Thoughts After 3 Weeks on Medication

It's been a little quiet here. It's been a little quiet in my reading life. It's been a very quiet in my Scrivener document, where I write my novel. I have been laying low, for many reasons. One big one? I started medication for generalized anxiety disorder, and I've been sleeping. A lot.

I had a physical three weeks ago, and it happened to fall right in the middle of a Very Stressful Time. We had just accepted an offer on our house, and we had a small window of time to find a new home. You know, the home we expected to meet our family's needs for the next thirty years? That one. We needed to find it in a matter of weeks, while working full time with little to no childcare for ANY non work hours. Our family rhythms had also shifted in January, with Ben home during the day and working nights and Saturdays, and it was hard. Hard on the (bored) kids, hard on Ben and I. Add in evenings and weekends being dragged to look at houses where you weren't allowed to touch anything, and our family was...raw. Snapping at each other. We were in survival mode.

What a beautiful problem to have, right? Touring potential new homes? I don't fail to recognize that only privilege of a special kind can turn this opportunity into something to be endured. House worries were not my only anxiety, though. Over a stretch of several months, I had found myself getting into something that I would describe as "thought loops." I would say something at work or write something on the internet and then obsess over my wording, terrified that I had offended someone or that my words would be taken the wrong way. I would think of a possible worse-case scenario involving one of my students, and then perseverate on it until I had to hide my phone so I wouldn't call and check with parents at three in the morning. For all my talking about myself, I'm a terrible self-reflector, but I'm fairly certain these were recent personality developments. I used to be good at shrugging things off, or at least as good as the average citizen. These new worrying behaviors were making me miserable.

So at this well-timed physical, I checked off "nervousness" on the form where you talk about recent symptoms. The chatty nurse came back to the room with another mental health form, rolling her eyes. "Sorry, but you checked off one of the no nos, so you have to fill this one out. Circle all zeros and they'll leave you alone." Yeesh. I answered honestly, marking off how many times in the last month my nervousness had made me feel sad or unmotivated, how often I was unable to stop thinking about something upsetting, how often I had mood swings. When my doctor came in, she read the form, checked her schedule, and said that because she had no appointments after me, we were tackling this today. We talked about coping strategies, meditation, regular physical exercise, and therapy, all things that I have tried and some of which had been extremely helpful to me in the past. Very quickly, though, we arrived at medication, and I was surprised at how easily it was brought up an how much it was encouraged. I thought she would push other methods of handling my anxiety and ask me to come back. The thing that really got me was her description of it as a tool that could get you through tough times (house buying, legal paperwork, moving with toddlers?) and her insistence that we could constantly revisit whether I wanted to stay on it.

I left with a birth control renewal, a directive to take a women's one-a-day, and a prescription for an anti-anxiety medication.

This was about a month ago, and things have changed. In fact, it is a whole new world in our family. This new medication has altered our home life in a way that I could not predict. See, I knew my worries were making me upset, but I had no idea how much they affected my moods. Whenever I am scared or unsure, my knee jerk reaction is to get mad- I've been this way my whole life. So when I was worried a lot, I was mad a lot. When I am mad in public, I tamp it down. I am a Libra, a diplomat, and I make sure everyone is happy. When I am mad at home, my anger is loud and quick and huge. No one outside of my family is privy to the way I can fall apart when I lose my temper. It's big. Big decisions make me fight or shut down altogether. Until now.

A week or so into my new med, Ben and I had to decide what offer to put in on a house that we were fairly certain was The One and The Only One For Us. Ben wanted to offer low, very low, figuring that the house needed a lot of work and it was the opening of negotiations. I felt that we were buying someone's family home and I didn't want to insult the owners. We went back and forth, explaining our sides. I was nervous, but Ben insisted, "They'll just counteroffer! This is the right move."  I nodded. "Okay." He looked at me weird. It took him three more cautious days to admit it, but he told me, "I've known you for 12 years, and you have never stopped in the middle of an disagreement with an 'okay.' In fact, the entire process of putting in that offer would have caused huge blowouts a month ago." I realized he was right. Moving into our first home had been incredibly stressful, resulting in huge fights that I am humiliated to recall. My fear and worry about the big changes in our lives had translated into little microbursts of rage. I was blamed "my temper." I never ever realized that medicine could affect these unpleasant emotions that I just figured were an unwelcome part of my personality.

In the past month, I cannot recall one single outburst that felt like a loss of control. I have been able to face challenges and stressful scheduling and minor family emergencies without spiralling and taking out on my husband or berating myself mentally. It has been truly life changing.

I don't want to sugarcoat this experience. There have definitely been drawbacks. As the medicine builds up in my system, I can feel myself getting more and more sleepy during daytime hours. I'm a person who has always loved waking up early, but in the past month, that has gotten harder and harder. Sometimes my eyelids flutter shut even as I'm drinking my coffee. I've had an incredibly difficult time getting to the gym in the evening, which used to happen at least three times a week- these days, I'm just too tired, even with extra sleep in the morning. The gym is my number one reading time, so as that time has dropped away, so has my interaction with books, something that greatly improves my mental health. I've had trouble getting into any book lately, and I can't tell if that's because of the medicine or just where I'm at right now. And my writing has taken a huge hit. I can usually sit and have a post come flying out of my fingertips, edit it up and have it published within an hour. This post has taken me three days four days a solid week to write, not because I'm unsure about sharing, but...sentences are harder to find. Words are more jumbled. And it's easier to just save what I have and drift away, where leaving a post unfinished used to really bother me.

The best way I can describe it is that everything feels like it's turned down. Like before I was at eleven, and someone clicked me back to five. 

There are ways to tweak this. I have an appointment tomorrow to discuss my progress on the drug and I am going to ask if I can try a lower dosage. I can also flex my willpower muscles a little more for the things that are truly important to me. I used to use my willpower to try and keep from blowing up over little things. If I failed, I yelled at my family. If this new normal means I exercise willpower to keep my hobbies in my life, and failure means a missed day of writing or one less chapter of a book, my more pleasant home life is worth it. For my husband and my kids and myself.

I want to make sure to stress that I am not a doctor and I am SURE that this course is not the best for everyone. This is definitely not a tacit endorsement of medication for all. It's a little spooky to realize that a small pill has so much control over my life and my emotions, but for me, it's also comforting to have help quieting a part of me that keeps me from feeling like the woman I want to be. I may not feel this way forever, but my doctor assured me that the conversation about whether this is the best for me is always open, and that, too, is comforting. 

I've always shared about my health on this blog, mostly because I overshare and talking about myself is one of my favorite hobbies. I also felt drawn to write this down after reading this great piece by Veronica Roth, a popular YA author who shared her story to encourage others who are struggling with mental health. Nothing is too small or silly to go unnoted- talk to your doctor about how you're feeling. If they dismiss your concerns, find another doctor. I have built a really special relationship with my primary care provider by being blunt even when it's uncomfortable, and she, in turn, listens to me and guides me. I trust her.  If your doctor doesn't make you feel safe and cared for, find another. You deserve a positive health care experience, no matter who you are or what symptoms you're struggling with. 

I would be happy to answer any questions you have about my personal situation, building a relationship with a health care provider, or anything at all that crosses your mind. Take care of yourselves as best you can, accept help whenever you want to, and never let anyone question the way you choose to live in your glorious body.

Some links for further reading:

http://fatfriendlydocs.com/ A list of fat friendly doctors listed by state and region, a great starting point for finding an open minded health care professional.

https://findtreatment.samhsa.gov/  Behavioral Health Treatment Services Locator- completely anonymous, let's you find the help you need in your area.

Both of the above links are from the indispensable resources page put together by The Militant Baker. 

Word of the Year 2016: Finish

I love the week leading up and the month following a new year. It's a dreamer's paradise. SO many I'm-going-tos with zero harsh realities busting bubbles. That's for February.  I also love the best-of lists that recap the previous year. I've read about the best books, best movies, best pictures, biggest highlights, most important news stories. I adore every second of it. 

I went back and looked at my own 2015 and realized that I really lived the life last year. For the most part, it was a constant party (especially during the months of September and October, when I was literally celebrated for huge chunks of time) and I spent a lot of time doing exactly what I wanted to do. I traveled alone. I devoted hours and hours to myself and my hobbies. The amount of pleasurable adult time I was granted kind of blows my mind- I can't believe I was able to pull that off with a 2-year-old and a 3-year-old. I was selfish. It was good.

But it's not sustainable for a life. I'm considering 2015 The Year I Celebrated Adulting (turning 30) By Acting Like A Teenager. As a result of that, 2016 has become The Year I Buckle Down.

Naming this year turns my stomach,

I don't want to buckle down. I have had a taste of a life that I should have been pursuing much earlier, and I am frankly hooked. I got married young and started my career young and did not spend enough time reading until dawn, drinking on the beach, writing stories for the fun of it, and going to themed events as I should have. I spent a lot of 2015 turning to Ben and saying, "What the hell did I do with my hours of free time before I had kids?!" The honest answer is I ate a lot of junk food, smoked cigarettes on our crappy back porch, and struggled with depression. So I'm glad I'm finally hitting my stride, even if it's a little late.

Despite my whining, I'm ready to Adult a little harder this year, because there is work to be done. I used a lot of logic to pick my word of the year, but honestly what got me started was realizing that two of the TV shows I obsessed over this year are languishing, unfinished, in my Netflix queue (I have one season left of Buffy and two seasons left of Doctor Who). I have stopped SO many important conversations with my friends because they don't want to spoil the Slayer's final battle. I will finish the shows I start.

Other things need to be finished, too. Ben and I just spent some time with a realtor friend and we are going to put our house on the market. (Another sentence that turns my stomach. Teeth clench emoji goes here) We've tried this before, but things are looking more hopeful this time. Also, my kids have grown out of their crib-sized mattresses and new beds don't fit in their room, so we don't really have a choice! Our biggest job in getting the house market ready is to GET RID OF STUFF, and my biggest challenge is sorting through things without spending 3 hours rereading my college notes from Child Psychology. I have inexplicably saved them, and about 1000 other stacks of paper/old greeting cards/ticket stubs. I'm going to have to be focused to get through this process, and focus is not my forte. I will finish getting this house ready to sell, and fast.

Lastly, I have some medical issues that need to be addressed. Blood work that hasn't been done since the last time I really focused on my health (when it was a goal for 2013), an issue with my foot that I keep ignoring (which I know is the worst possible reaction), decisions about my birth control which actually become much larger family planning decisions which bring us back to the whole house issue.

I buried my head in the sand about all of this for all of 2015. It was more fun to follow authors on Twitter and put nips in my iced coffee.

In 2016, I will finish. I will be more decisive and focused, even if it means talking to a doctor about the bigger reasons behind why I can't seem to focus. I will pour a little more of myself into my family, and let myself get into deeper conversations about where and how we will live without hiding behind my phone. I will honor my children and husband by talking frankly about my health with a doctor. I will finally finish Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

What are you tackling this year? (If you like pop culture at all, the predictions/resolutions episode of Pop Culture Happy Hour was particularly satisfying to me.) Happy 2016, lovelies. 

In My Next 30 Years

I remember listening to this Tim McGraw song when I was younger. I thought it was pretty clever, all about the things he was going to do in his NEXT 30 years...watch his weight, hang out with his family, drink less beer. I think he might have alluded to finding God again. It made 30 seem old. Ancient. Hang up your hats, guys, your fun is over, time to settle down.

I've been thinking a lot about ten years ago. I spent the last night of my teens crying. I was living in a little apartment on Highland Avenue with an older guy and I loved the novelty of being his teenage girlfriend. I liked being younger than all the people I went to college with. I wanted to do everything quickly, so I could do it YOUNG- get married, have kids, start my career.  Last night, in the last night of my twenties, I made my grandmother's banana bread, kissed my kids goodnight, and pretended to work out while I read a book on the treadmill. I thought about my full, full life and how glad I am that it's impossible to get your 19-year-old wish of staying "young" forever.

I'm 30 today. I kind of hoped I'd wake up with some blast of maturity and knowledge, but I fell asleep on the couch watching The Fly when I snapped to at 3:50 am, curled into a weird position with drool drying on my chin, I thought, "HOLY SHIT, I'm 30!" and went to bed without washing my face. I guess it's going to take the legwork to keep getting awesomer, but I'm definitely finding it easier with each passing year.  Here are a few things I figured out so far.

GIRLFRIENDS ARE KEY

I've sucked at this for most of the first third of my life. I could blame it on losing my dad (I've tried to justify it in this way) but in all honesty, I know that my personality craves attention, and male attention most of all. Especially in high school and my early college months, I would often go after relationships with guys, romantic or platonic, at the expense of my female friendships. I never claimed to be one of those "girls who gets along better with guys" [I heavily side-eye this statement from anyone], but I was a crappy friend to lots of people who deserved better treatment. I'm sorry.

At this point in my life, I'm finally in relationships with several women who are EVERYTHING to me: therapist, confidante, mentor, hilarious entertainment. Home. These are the people who diagnose my symptoms when I can't tell if I should call the doctor, indulge me with hours of talking about young adult literature, tell me when I need to get over myself and apologize to my husband, suggest gymnastics camps for my toddlers, leave love notes on my desk at work, text me articles about my favorite fandoms, or show up with Thai food on the night before my birthday. Some of these women I see every day, and some of them are only a text or a call from me, but all of them make my life SO much richer. I wish I had realized how much better I could be if I invested in the female friendships that I was so lucky to have in high school and college. WHATEVER AGE YOU ARE, GIRLFRIENDS ARE KEY.

SLOW DOWN

To a sloth's pace. I'm not going to reference two country songs in one post, but there's an Alan Jackson song called You're Gonna Miss This, and now I've done it. STOP RUSHING. There is time, and if you allow yourself to have it, you might come to a better decision. Lots of what I did in my twenties is because I thought it was what was NEXT. I'm dating someone. Next is getting married! I'm in an apartment. Must be time for a house! I've graduated college. QUICK, get a job with a ridiculously high level of responsibility that directly affects LIVES! 

I want to be clear that I love my husband and I'm fond of my house and I'm proud to be in my 9th year of teaching. But I did things without thinking. I was lucky that Ben turned out to be such an incredible husband and father, because I married him after knowing him for two years, one of which was while I was a teen and legally brain dead [I actually think teens are legally brain dead, at least all the ones like me who AREN'T inventing things and solving major social problems]. I got into teaching because someone said I was good at with kids, and I never thought much about my own personal goals at any point during college or afterwards. Right now, I'm fairly certain that I would like to explore a career working with books and writing. Maybe teaching at a higher level, or the ultimate goal- LIBRARIAN? But I am going slllloooowwww. Gathering information. Feeling myself out. There's no need to rush.

TAKE CARE

of your butt. I have reached (at a somewhat early date) the point where I am literally exercising for no other reason than to stay alive. Actually, I just want to be able to go on amusement park rides and not have to replace my beloved brown autumn jacket. As much as I want to love myself and my skin and I firmly believe that my worth is not equated to my size, I know that I have a family history of health problems and I want to stick around. I wish I had spent a little more time on fitness FOR THE RIGHT REASONS. It would have been less depressing and easier to stick to. 

I spent lots of time in twenties waiting to become someone else. I pictured her- she was gorgeous, ultimate, ideal, skinny, funny, quirky with no uncomfortable weirdness. She had a perfect wardrobe of boyfriend tshirts, converse sneaks, and bright dresses. She kept a clean house, an organized desk at work, read all the most literary titles, and was never afraid of the obscure horror movies her husband watched. The saddest part of this is that I really thought all I had to do to unlock her was lose weight. I had to remind myself that THIS BITCH WAS NOT REAL. And I wouldn't even like her if she was.  Now I READ WHAT I WANT (fantasy princesses and love triangles?) and WEAR WHAT I WANT (mostly what she would have worn, in plus sizes) and I MOVE WHEN I WANT (so I can stay alive). I want to take good care of myself because I deserve to feel healthy and my family deserves to get me for as long as I can torture them by hanging on. That's what fitness is going to be in my next 30 years.

FOURTH AND MOST IMPORTANT: PLEASE RECOGNIZE THAT YOU KNOW LESS THAN NOTHING. I spent most of my early twenties thinking I knew a lot. I was wrong.

In my next 30 years I'm going to finish my book and maybe the trilogy. I'm going to decide on my next career- or maybe retire from teaching first before starting round 2. I'm going to go on trips with my sisters. I'm going to make taking care of myself a cornerstone of my life. I'm going to cement some family traditions. I'm going to get more tattoos. I'm going to make a million more mistakes. I'm probably not going to stop writing about them.  Any advice for this new decade? I'm all ears!

(image credit)

Pros/Cons of Losing Weight

Reasons I Want to Lose Weight:

• I want to go on roller coasters until I'm 70
• I want to be able to climb to the top of the big slide on the hill at Davis Farmland for as long as the boys want to, and not have to stop because I'm worn out.
• I want to wear jeans more often.
• I want to deal with times when I eat my feelings and gain more control over myself in those moments.
• I want to ride any amusement park attraction and never have to worry about fitting in the seat.
• I want to be able to climb the ladder and get onto a floating dock in the middle of the lake.
• I want to be healthy enough to watch my grandkids and greatgrandkids grow up.
• I want more energy. I want all the energy.
• Sometimes I look at a picture and the girl I see is not actually the girl I'm seeing in my head.
• I want good blood sugar.
• I want to feel proud of myself.
• I want to feel good.

Reasons that I Don't Want to Lose Weight:

• I'm already good enough the way I am.
• I live in a society that demands women find their worth by shrinking.
• I have clothes that I love, cute dresses and swimsuits and jeans, and I don't have to lose weight to live out the style that I love.
• I think diets are demeaning.
• Nothing that I struggle with emotionally will change if I look different than I do now.
• People will congratulate me (obviously) and that will feel so good (obviously) and I'm scared to define my worth through this process.
• Most weight loss tools are condescending and shitty. The fitness chatter for men is "You're going to get so cut!" and the fitness talk for women is "You're going to look so good in your bathing suit!"
• It's taken me 30 years to like myself. I really like myself. I'm scared that admitting I need to lose weight will confuse that message that I have finally pounded through my thick skull.
• It's hard.

This is an accurate representation of my brain, every day, trying to reconcile body acceptance and feminism with my biological need to have less weight on my body. For me, it's medical- a report to me about my personal situation from a doctor.  If I want to live a long time, I have to lose weight. I have done it before. I know that it's possible (even though post-kids and at 30, it's harder than ever).  But it's work, and I'm struggling with it. I know a lot of my heartfelt reasons that I don't want to lose weight are really important, legit things- I don't want to mess with my own hard-won self confidence, for instance- but it's also legitimately important that I take my health in hand and take care of myself.

It's kind of tiring.

I wonder if I would have such fiery values about loving myself if losing weight was easy for me, or if I've built up this gorgeous wall of feminism because I don't fit the typical mold of societal beauty. I think it would have still appealed to me, this radical message that you don't have to be constantly pursuing a stick-thin body and you can beautiful at any size, in any outfit of your choosing, showing as much or as little skin as you please, wearing full make up or nothing at all. I've been all sizes, and it's never made me happy. Healthier maybe, and probably (ick) a little more self righteous. 

It's all part of a cycle; this pros/cons list will be my negotiation for the rest of my life. Weight was my focus last summer, and it's rearing it's head again. I will always have to work a little for optimum health. I will always be extra critical of the messages that the media and society perpetuate about what is healthy, what is pretty, what should be loved. I will always have to balance those two things to embrace self acceptance and my own personal health.

What do you think, ladies and gents? How do you balance your feminist values with personal health? Any leads on workout/weight loss programs that aren't...awful? I'm using Pinterest as a tool right now, looking for images of confidence and health tips at the same time, but I'd love to hear what has worked for you! Much love, xoxo.

Image credits: 1, 2, 3

On diets and health food and feminism and power

This sticker is on the scale in the nurse's office at work,
where I weight in weekly for a weight loss challenge.

 It's coming up on one year since I publicly declared my mission to get healthier, and I wanted to check in and talk about all the icky sticky things: weight loss, dieting, donuts, and the way it all links in with being a feminist and keeping my own sense of worth.  Some of you are already squirming in your seats, and I'm with you.  This is not a simple intersection of ideas.

As a human in a human body, I struggle a lot with weight.  I know that it is harder for my body to lose weight than other humans.  Partially because of my genes, partially because I've literally spent my entire life gaining and losing weight, and as a result, have a really weird relationship with food and exercise. It is straightforward for me to tell people that I love them or complete a degree program or make time for things that are important to me.  It is not straightforward for me to lose weight, no matter how simple the formula.

I've overloaded my brain with information.  I've done Weight Watchers, I've counted calories (my entire adult life, starting around age 15), I've tried high protein and low carb.  I've done the 21-day-fix, made shakes, skipped meals. I've taken kickboxing, tried running, joined Curves, gone to classes, lifted weights.  I've tried to eat no sugar, I've tried to eat no meat. I've had SO MANY fresh starts that I even laugh at myself now when I say "starting on Monday!"  I've joined endless weight loss challenges.  I've made promises to myself. I've lost 20-30 pounds at a time.  I've gained it all back.  I know some of you are shaking your heads. I'm typing out the story of half the population.

So it was a huge relief when I really started identifying myself as a feminist, reading empowering manifestos about defining your own self worth and breaking free from the restraints of a corrupt society.  It's obvious to me that girls and women are judged too heavily (and more than their male counterparts) on their physical appearance.  Watch Kristen Schaal discuss the "dadbods" celebration in this perfect Daily Show piece.  Further evidence?  I was recently in a room of mostly women at a breakfast meeting.  A visiting male commented on our lovely spread of bagels and fruit and followed it up with "You'll have a beautiful weekend to go work off all these calories!"  I was instantly annoyed.  Would he have said that to a room of mostly men?  I highly doubt it.

For awhile, I was getting a kick out of it.  Hollywood starlets saying "eat the damn cupcake!" and we all applaud, and I want to applaud that sentiment!  It sounds good, feels good, tastes good!  I am able to dress my overweight body in adorable clothes, put on red lipstick and feel pretty no matter my size.  I have had people hit on me at every weight (and I've run the gambit in my adult life). I've had days where I felt powerful & lovely and days where I've felt gross & icky regardless of the number on the scale.  I'm past being completely ruled by I weigh.

AND YET. 

I sometimes get winded walking up the stairs.  My blood sugar is MUCH better than it was at this time last year, but it is not completely stable.  When I let healthy habits slip (particularly moving my body and chugging water), I feel like Monster Ashlie and get extremely grumpy/mildly depressed. I have weight loss goals and I really want to reach them and sometimes that makes me feel like I'm living a double life.  Female-solidarity-down-with-diets-don't-let-the-magazine-tell-you-you're-not-beautiful Ashlie who will NOT eat a carrot when what she really wants is a piece of cake, and Jesus-you're-so-close-to-that-first-milestone-so-put-down-the-chips Ashlie, who breaks foods into "good" and "bad" categories as a knee jerk reaction.  Pass the carrots.

This piece about a dieting feminist really resonated with me.  I loved the honesty about how weight loss was about both health and appearance. I thought it was funny that it was peppered with ads for articles about the workout plans of swimsuit models (Thanks Elle.com).  At the end, when the feminist was proud of her weight loss, albeit secretly, I was happy for her.  It made me think a lot.  

I've decided it comes down to choice and language.  If I'm trying to lose weight because I want to be healthy and strong and what I consider to be my best self, I think that still falls into the "girl power" camp I want to be in.  I can honestly say that being on course to lose weight is something that makes me feel good, and when I use the "damn the man, your beauty standards can't keep me from ordering a third double-mocha syrup drink!" excuse, it's usually to justify a decision that I honestly don't think is best for me.*  For the record, I never feel guilty when going out to the dairy bar for ice cream, and I think it's because  it's a conscious choice, because I realize that I will never be on a eating plan that doesn't make room for that.  The knowledge keeps me from overeating ice cream.  Because I'm comfortable that it will always be there.

Language is also HUGE. When I say I'm going to the gym or going for a run and Milo asks why, I tell him it's because I want to be stronger.  I never speak disparagingly about myself in front of my children, students, or friends.  Not to my husband.  Rarely even to myself.  I have trained myself away from being the butt of my own jokes, and I have cut completely mean comments about my looks.  This doesn't mean I pretend I'm not overweight or I ignore the size of my clothes.  I can comfortably admit that I'm planning a tattoo that is large because my upper arm is large and I want to the proportions to be appropriate so it looks right. It should be okay to say "I'm big" the same way I would say "I'm short."  

That's where I am these days.  Trying to love myself at every size, make choices that are thoughtful and goal-oriented, and use loving, supportive language about...everything.  No good foods, no bad foods, no "I'm not allowed to" at lunch time.  I recently went back and reread this love letter I wrote to my body after having Elliott.  Our bodies are RIDICULOUS, doing miracles like creating children and running marathons and holding hands and kissing- WHO INVENTED KISSING- and being the vehicle for these big, beautiful brains that are making up songs and jokes and lullabies and grocery lists and telling little ears where babies come from.  Our bodies.  They come from these awesome bodies.

If you take anything away from this, just be reminded that you do have a choice, and you reflect it in your language.  Doing what's best isn't always fun, but try to find something that clicks for you- a recipe, an activity, a solid comeback for any body-negative comments you might be exposed to- and hang on to it.  And tell me what you think: can diets be empowering? Do you have an awesome comeback for crappy negative comments? Where do you fall in the tricky place of balancing body love and body management?

Please just love yourself.

*These are the choices that are best for me, made after talking to doctors and evaluating what feels good on MY body and for in MY life.  This is not a license to fat shame, to use health as a reason to judge others.  There are healthy people of every size.  Unless you're a doctor, you're not a doctor, so you don't get to tell other people how to eat/dress/exercise/ live.  Ever.

Further reading:

Jes from The Militant Baker is a body advocate and her blog is empowering.

Victoria from The Disaster Poodle wrote about diet culture- on point.

Mara Glatzel wrote about holding the framework and self care as self love.

Image credits: tape sticker by ModernGirlBlitz, Weigh Beauty, Wonder Woman

at the moment no. 10

at the moment, I'm...

freezing and numb. Actually clutching the warm sides of a candle in a metal tin.  The heat is never on on the porch where our office is.  There's an electric baseboard heater, but I'm usually the only one out here, and the electricity prices just went way up.  So I bundle up, wear wool socks, and wrap my hands around cups of coffee and lit candles.  It's still my favorite place to be. This morning I spent too much time reading about the upcoming book releases in my favorite guilty pleasure series (SHADOWHUNTERS FTW) and didn't do as much writing as I wanted, but it was still time in the dark and quiet and it was just for me.  I'm so greedy about it.

losing weight.  But only technically.  I spent a good deal of money to be part of a 21-day-fix diet plan and I got a month's worth of Shakeology with it.  I like the idea behind all of this.  I use the protein shakes to keep from eating everything in sight when I'm starving after school and I still have to pack our lunches and make dinner. The 21-day fix gives you workouts (that hurt, and that's good) and portion controlled containers that train you to eat healthy.  I like that, too.  But this week I've felt restless and weird (winter blues?) and I'm only stayed on plan about half the time.  It was Elliott's birthday and I had cake. I went out with friends and had a beer and some wings.  I laughed enough that I think I might have negated the extra calories I ate.  I don't know.  I like myself so much that losing weight is not something I want desperately.  Maybe that's just an excuse.  I joined a weight loss challenge at work, too, and the pot is $560, so maybe my self-confidence can take a backseat for awhile.

stepping it up, ya hear? I've had my fitbit for awhile, but tons of my friends and family have also gotten one recently, and this adds a whole new layer to the way this tool helps me move.  There are challenges that you can participate in with your friends- most steps in a week, most steps in weekend, most steps in a day.  It is so damn motivating.  I love that my sister in Florida has one and we daily check in, chat on the challenge board, inspire each other.  I love that she works until 7 and then comes home and slaughters her step goal before bed.  I find it incredibly inspiring, and it also lets you creep on people's lives (omg, they just got 3,493 steps, where ARE they?  oh, the gym, that's annoyingly healthy and wonderful), and the competition pushes me.  I love my weird little fitbit tool, and now I'm lusting after the newest model with a heart rate monitor built in.  Plus, cute wristbands at Target.

maintaining my bookworm status. Last year I kept track of all the books I read in a list on the sidebar of the blog.  I read 29 books (one of which was actually a long ass serial fanfiction piece that I'm counting because I think it's much longer than any published novel and it's more well-written than half the published stuff I read) and some of them I never finished.  About a third of my reading was done in the last two months of the year, when I let go of any "intellectual" aspirations and let myself read young adult fiction like I was a 16-year-old with a crush.  I read a ton of Mary Higgins Clark when I was a preteen, so maybe I've overdue, you know?  

This year I've already read four books, many in one sitting by staying up way too late.  I want to branch out and read some stuff for adults (Anita Shreve, who wrote my favorite book I read in high school, The Red Tent, has a new book called Boston Girl) and reread some of my soul-crushing favorites (The Little House series, followed by the autobiographical Pioneer Girl, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Anne of Green Gables)  I might be ready to reread a few books about death that I love and terrify me (The Lovely Bones and A Widow For One Year), and I have some good nonfiction queued up (#girlboss and somehow I've resisted reading Amy Poehler's Yes, Please.  I'm saving it like a good bottle of wine).  There is still plenty of YA I'm waiting for, particularly Hollow City.  I'm terrible at keeping up with my goodreads page, but here the link: BOOKS YO.  Recommend something to me!

I'm getting lost in all this book talk and there is breakfast and swimming lessons to think of.  Be my friend on fitbit.  Tell me the books you love.

(image credit)

The Word of the Year 2014: A Move Update

I'm starting my new year late in 2015.  I still feel like I'm tying up muddy ends of last year, which was good and whole and bursting with so much that it didn't end on time.  We just rolled in from a family vacation yesterday.  I'm easing into all the new, and I'm not done remembering the old.  Let's talk about our word for 2014.

The word of the year was always Move, and when we found out we couldn't actually move into a new house, we were initially let down.  I know Ben still struggles with our small house and a community that doesn't feel like home for him, but we're making changes in here and it's leading to a much more comfortable life.  One thing we really needed to do was decide what we wanted to accomplish in each room.  This sounds deceivingly simple, but we had to strip away expectations and make our house work for us.

We started with the living room and realized that we needed to plan for play and toy storage more so than adult entertaining.  With this in mind, we carpeted over our hardwoods with extra soft padding and rugs that can take a beating, got rid of almost all art, bookshelves, and coffee tables, and brought in the train table.  We went out and got a huge cubed storage piece from Ikea (it used to be Expedit and now it's something different but it's still amazing) and keep all toys, a good chunk of the kid books, and the kid DVDs in this unit.  This room is much safer and much more fun than it ever was before.  

Another big problem we had was no personal space for Ben and I.  Kids stiff was everywhere.  Ben's desk was shoved into our tiny bedroom, where small people were constantly climbing up to press buttons and scribble on the bank ledger. I had a laptop balanced on an end table in the living room, and usually a cup of coffee too close to the electronics. We wanted some adult space, so we looked to our trash-heap storage dump of a three-season porch.

It is appalling how we were treating this space. Ben was pumped about the clean up.  Then the entire summer was hanging out with the worker guys as they took down the walls and put them back up again.  Milo and Elliott loved it.

Ben took the charge on this project and completely brought it to life.  It was a year of securing a loan, hiring contractors, managing the work, ordering carpet, painting (a color he picked)- I feel like this room is the best present he's ever given me.  I don't have many pictures of it out here, because this is not where I come to hang out with my family.  This is where I come to write, and be quiet.  Ben and I are just starting to put up posters and bring our books and DVDs to fill in the space. I did all my National Novel Writing Month work at the little desk on the left.  After dinner, sometimes we let the boys dance in the big empty space in the middle.  This room is true love.

Another aspect of Move was moving our bodies, and I made some strides this year.  I ran, a lot.  My FitBit helped me figure out when I needed to get off my bum, and when I was powering through just fine. I used the Couch 2 5K running program all spring and summer, and ran two 5K races.  I consistently went to the gym in the fall, walked on the treadmill at least 3 times a week in November, and we did a five mile Turkey Trot as a family.  I definitely slacked off in December, which I feel might be my national duty, but all in all, I felt proud of the moving I brought into my life in last year.  There's more work to be done, but habits are being worn in to my beautiful brain grooves.  

Move was a good word for our family in 2014.  It was something that we were actively pursuing well past January, even when our original plans were firmly derailed. I'm not sure if the 2015 word will represent our whole family or something I personally want to work on, but I'm down to pick another word for another year.  It worked. 

I'll be back later this week to do a little personal reflection about 2014 and what my intentions are for the coming year.  Things are lovely and bright!  Do you have a word for this year? How did 2014 treat you? If you're willing to share, I'd love to hear.

oh, hello.

Part of being your own lady is being honest, and honestly, I miss some of the diary-style entries I used to post on the regular.  I love Be Your Own Lady, and I love sourcing interesting content, but I feel like I'm holding back a little.  I'm also noticing that I have less interaction with readers when I write about Twitter feeds or share interviews than when I'm free associating about family life (poop on the train table?) or my own self esteem (Leslie Knope for President!). I don't care as much about the number of readers- I'm very proud of my content and I love putting together weekly link pages, even if no one reads them- but I do miss the connection.  I want to tell you about Milo's new habit of muttering "Oh. my. gosh." in a drastic voice 254 times a day, and all the words Elliott is copying, and how our "Move" year is going, and how my blood sugar is back on track as of August.  And so I will.  

1. Ben and I set ourselves a health goal for the month of September.  We agreed to cut out sweets of any kind to reduce our sugar intake.  We went to Kimballs and ate clams while the boys had ice cream, we went to a wedding and politely declined the cake (no one noticed, I was hoping for a scene that would possibly shame us into nibbling).  Honestly, it's not the hard, and we get to pick out some sort of reward if we make it all 30 days.  I'm thinking a new band for my Fitbit, or a cute shirt from Modcloth.  I've also been using my Planet Fitness membership 2-3 times a week.  

2. School started with a vengance and I slipped back into the routine so quickly.  I credit an awesome daycare provider, boys who LOVE going to daycare, and being on a really great teaching team.  We're in the third week and I'm finding that going in super early is really refreshing, even if it means giving up some of my morning reading&writing time.  The hours before school when it's quiet are amazing, and starting the day annoyingly prepared makes my day 254 times better than if I settle for "basically ready."

3. This fall is full of things to look forward to, and plenty of trips that have seemed like they were 254 years away until now.  Ben is going away for a few days and I'm actually excited to have one-on-one time with the boys for awhile.  I have a little surprise planned that I'd like to accomplish, and I'll probably order some very bizarre takeout and watch bad TV.  Then, a few weeks later, I'm going to Chicago to watch my sister run the Chicago Marathon!  A lot of my family will be meeting up to cheer her on, and I'll see my baby nephew, and I'll be in a city I've never visited before, and the whole thing is dreamy.  I can't wait.

4. I've finished a bunch of good books, and am planning to take the boys back to the library today to get another set.  I like to read on the elliptical (I'm aware this probably means I'm not working out hard enough but you can hush it) and spent 25 minutes after my workout had completed because I was sucked into a good plot last week.  Books for the win!

That felt good.  I have to go and get into work super early.  Book recommendations, Chicago must-sees, and general encouragement are welcome.  Have a lovely day!

ashlie runs a 5K

So, I did it.  I ran a 5K.  It's just the latest in accomplishments that I'm crossing off my birthday list, but this one is a little more special.  It represents all sorts of weird things for me: getting healthy, and reaching a goal that I've blabbed about for years, and doing something that doesn't come naturally to me, because running does not come naturally to me.  And I think about that sometimes, if I get a compliment about writing or having patience with young kids, that it's almost like cheating because those are natural gifts that I'm somehow lucky enough to have, but it's not something that I really created.  It doesn't exist out of sheer will.  Running 3.1 miles on a July morning at the weight I am is something I could only do out of sheer will, and for that reason, I'm seriously proud.

I remember being whatever age you are in 4th grade (9?) and having to do the Presidential Fitness Test, which, for a girl like me, was truly a course in humiliation.  We had to try to do pull ups and push ups and sit ups and then, oh my god, the mile.  At the risk of painting a pathetic picture, I'll admit that I was easily the worst at every single section and I dreaded gym class with a passion.  It might have been the reason I tried to go home sick every single day of elementary school- I'm not sure.  But I remember huffing and puffing and HATING myself and hating the stupid mile around the stupid track, and always being the last one.  I remember- will never, ever forget- the kindness of my patient, encouraging gym teacher, who I doubt wanted to force little bookworm girls with glasses to run a mile four times a year (thanks, President Clinton), and who always clapped, and told me I could do it, and kept impatience out of his voice when I was still going, still the last one on track.  His name was Mr. Howard, and I think he might have been friends with my dad, and he is always the teacher I think of when people ask about the pivotal figures from your childhood, even though he taught my least favorite subject of all time.

So today, when I ran 3.1 miles of my own volition and crossed the finish line and grinned at the strangers who told me good job and felt like a rockstar when Milo patted my leg a good five minutes after I was done and said, "You did a good job, Mama," it was really Mr. Howard that I was thinking of.  I don't waste time worrying about the kids in my class who were bored waiting for me to finish.  I think about Mr. Howard talking to me like an athlete, telling me to pace myself and cautioning me to keep walking, even after I was done ("Are you kidding, Mr. Howard?!) to ward off muscle cramps, and never letting me feel less than any of my classmates.  I realize that I extended that same kindness to myself today, when people would pass me or I needed to walk or wanted to sip my water- I knew I could take those breaks and still treat myself like a serious athlete, because I had been taught how to be kind by a serious athlete.

Today I did a run that is shorter than most people's rest day workouts, but I feel like I won the Boston Marathon.  I said I would do something, stuck with the training, and beat the imaginary goal time I put in my head.  I'm not going to lie and say that I'm a runner now- it's not my favorite form of exercise.  My knees hurt.  But I'm so happy that I took this THING that I've been remembering crappily from my childhood and then obsessing over in my adult years, and finished it on my own terms.

Thanks for putting up with Facebook updates and Instagram pictures and my years of saying, "I want to do a run!"  I don't care if it sounds silly, but the encouragement that I get from old friends and far-flung family members on the internet strengthens me, and I'm so grateful for all of you.

at the moment...no. 8

This picture was taken on the last day of school last week.  Right now its June 30th, and the perfect time to organize and evaluate before my only work-free month of the year!  At the moment I'm...

...celebrating.  On the last day of school, once all the kids are safely home and our classrooms are packed up, we have a big staff party at someone's house.  It's always a really fun time, but this year I arranged for a babysitter until Ben got home from work and a safe ride back to my house, so I really enjoyed myself.  Fast forward to a few days later and I was headed to the cape for a weekend of bachelorette fun for a close friend.  I've had so much uncharacteristic fun (out late, quite loud, cigars and shots, etc) and tried so many new summer drinks.  I'm loving Leinenkugel Lemon Berry Shandy, Shipyard Melonhead, and Newman's Lemonade with strawberry vodka, preferably mixed by Ben, my personal bartender.

...rededicating.  The one downside of all this nonstop partying is that my healthy living focus is pretty much scrapped.  The past week had us so far out of routine that I was eating all sorts of crazy snack foods and calling it meals, not tracking, and even sometimes not hitting my step goal.  It was worth it for a fun transition to summer, and I had a great time, so I'm not going to beat myself up.  I did, however, spend an hour or so last night making vegetable soup and chopping fruits for snacks...I'm ready to dive back into a healthy routine this week.

...adjusting.  It's the first full week of vacation and we have play dates and family outings planned every single day.  I have a loose schedule I'd like to follow about morning activities- trips to the library, crafts, working on words with both boys- but if someone wants to interact with us, that's always going to be the priority.  Two of our great summer traditions are taking place this week: the summer reunion with Cait and Vedder, and our yearly trip to Gloucester for the July 3rd Horribles Parade.  I'm practicing getting up and getting dressed without dragging out our mornings.  We're getting into the habit of taking a morning walk as a family.  We're getting into the summer spirit.

...overdue.  For a pedicure, for some time with Laurel, for a trip to Florida, for a reading update, for a major list session, and for a couple of other things.  If the boys nap this afternoon, I'm going to play secretary and get our family calendar/to do list organized for the month of July.  I'm so lucky to have a life so full.

What are you up to at the moment?  I'd love to hear!  These posts are inspired by Kerri from Your Wishcake, and I highly suggest you check her out.

Current State of Affairs

One of the bloggers I've been following the longest is Danielle from Sometimes Sweet.  As a former high school English teacher, she used to have Journal Days and give the students writing prompts.  Now she gives her prompts to the blogging world, and many people link up and answer.  This is the first time I've ever wanted to participate.

The prompt: 
This week, write a "State of Me" address. Write about how you're really doing- what you've been thinking, what you've been up to. What have you accomplished lately? Where is there room for growth? Where are you right now in life and where are you headed? Current joys, currents sadness...write it all out. Discuss the current state of YOU. 

The State of Ashlie is pretty dynamite.  I often use this space to voice fears or share insecurities or just vent in general, but I don't have quite as much practice tipping my head back and celebrating.  I'm putting some hard work into my life right now, and I'm getting back as good as I give.  I think it's the perfect time to recap some of my success and the things I'm looking forward to.  

I laid it all out on the line when I shared about how I wanted and needed to lose weight.  The ashlie gets fit post was met with a lot of love and understanding and support, and a little weirdness (I heard some "Geez, are you okay?!" but most people got the message).  I've been making taking care of myself one of my biggest hobbies, and moving super slowly so that the changes can stick.  I'm keying in to the fact that if I can link it social media in some way, anything I try will be successful.  I use a few different apps and pieces of technology to keep track right now, and I'm loving it.  Things I find indispensable include: a digital scale, my Fitbit, the myfitnesspal app, the MapMyWalk app, and the Couch-to-5K app.  For all the apps, my username is ashlieelizabeth, with the exception of the Fitbit app, where I'm Ashlie E. 

I'm going to go deeper into how I use my Fitbit in another post, but it's a huge motivator.  It gives me a good sense of when I'm most active (which you would think would be obvious, but I'm usually surprised), and right now I have it linked to myfitnesspal, where I track my food, so I'm getting an accurate reading of calories in versus calories out in a 24-hour period.  That is my most valuable tool at this moment.  Right now I'm burning around 3000 calories a day and eating around 1900- my "goal" is 1540, but I almost always go over, and as long as I'm seeing a healthy calorie deficit, I don't let that worry me.  I am also using the MapMyWalk and Couch-to-5K to keep track of my running.  I actually use both apps when I run because I like encouragement I get from my "real" runner friends on Map, but I use the prompts on Couch-to-5K to train properly.

The proof is in the numbers.  I've been paying close attention to eating and exercise for about a month.  I've lost 10.4 pounds and am able to run up to 30 minutes without stopping to rest or walk.  I've come to this success very slowly, I feel, but I'm also not beating myself up AT ALL, and taking this stance very consciously.  I know that I can drink shakes or restrict calories or cut out food groups and lose weight a lot faster.  There are days I run and days I opt to walk or dance in the kitchen instead.  I've had ice cream every weekend this month.  As soon as I start turning this into means to an end, it will truly be over.  I'll gain all the weight back and be stuck in a cycle I don't like.  I'm really trying to teach myself to have a new kind of life, one that includes rest days and dessert and also mindfulness and vegetables and knowing that I have to work up some sort of sweat every day to keep this body healthy.  There might come a time when I need to use something more strict to get me through a plateau but for now I'm focusing on burning more than I eat and staying happy.

I had a suspicion that something deeper than exercise vs. calories might be holding me back from weight loss, and my primary care doctor suggested that I add therapy to my plan for tackling my weight.  I absolutely tried it- I went for a month, which ended up being three sessions.  I didn't stop because it was bad or painful or weird, but I honestly had such an improved mood from eating right and the endorphin high of exercising that there was less malaise in my life, and I felt like there wasn't much to talk about.  I still often feel overwhelmed and I'm messy and I have deferred goals, but when I'm taking better care of myself, those things are less likely to completely depress me.  I don't want to say, "Oh, I jog a few times a week and suddenly everything is rainbows!" because that's not the case.  I just feel more able to take things in stride lately.

As I take better care of myself, I'm realizing that, for me, self-care is something that needs to be directly taught.  I have to force myself to schedule hair cuts, order contacts, or dress in something other than yoga pants.  In preparation for summer I've reordered my contacts so I can stop wearing my frumpy glasses on sunny days and practiced my headscarf game to add flair to my simple summer outfits.  I've put aside some money that I hope to use to flesh out the tattoo on my left leg- I want to add two foxes that represent the boys.  It might seem silly or frivolous, but these are things that make me feel more in control of my life.  I look like this because I consciously choose this style, I own it, this is me.  That's something I've never really gotten the hang of, but I feel on the cusp of it.  I'm not waiting for my goal weight to look cute again. 

It helps that I'm back into the swing of reading.  I've been careful to not conk out on the couch so I can wash my face and read before bed, and I'm carrying my books to school with me so I can read when my students have their silent reading time.  I even read a few chapters snuggled with the boys the other night while they were enjoying their Friday night movie.  When I read, I feel more in touch with who I actually am.  It sounds silly but it's something I keep going back to as I feel more and more "adult" in the world.  

I'm going to spend my summer reading, meeting friends, getting dressed, and moving it whenever I can.  I'll brew some iced coffee and tie my hair up in a headscarf and force myself not to break out in hives if I get invited to do something last minute.  We'll have campfires and I'll see my family in Florida and buy a pretty dress to wear to summer weddings.  I'm feeling proud and hopeful and confident, totally in love with my little family and ready to spend a little time on myself.  I'm pleased with the current state I'm in, and realizing that things are only going to get better from here.

Play along and tell me the State of YOU!  You can link up at Danielle's post, too.