Well, I got my test results back today for Biology. . . 66.  Ouch!  So much for my dream of an A in Bio.  Ahhh, that was a pipe dream anyway.

I did feel much better during class today when we were informed that the average grade was 60.  There was one A, two Bs and the rest were D and below.


 As I continue to learn, this journey seems to be about much more than losing weight and change my lifestye.  It's about facing my fears head on and defeating them.  I may lose a battle now and again, but in the end, I will win.

Short post tonight. . . I need to go study Biology!

Sunday Mornings

I'm sitting here on a quiet Sunday morning.  I like quiet Sunday mornings, they are the perfect time for thinking and reevaluating.

My life is so different now from what it was a year ago.  I don't even know if I would recognize the me that I was then.  I can tell you one thing, I feel lighter.  (not necessarily weight wise)  I am feeling like I can meet any challenge now head on, without worrying that I am going to fail right out of the gate.

I have realized, especially in the last week that I am slipping again on my eating plan.  With things moving so fast, it has been hard to stick to a good eating plan.  I have been 'slipping' a lot lately!

When I started this, I had so much drive and passion for what I was doing.  Then as new things came along, my focus split.  I have taken my eye off the ball.

Ultimately, this whole journey is about making me healthy, happy, and able to meet my grandchildren someday.

I guess I have to put my eye back on my original goal and not 'slip' anymore. I don't want to to go back to where I was.

Quiet Sunday mornings are a good time for reflecting and reevaluating.

Sorry that it has been a few days.  This whole week has been a whirlwind!  I survived the Algebra test.  Yea me!

Then this morning, there was the Biology test. Understand that I have come to love this class!  It is so interesting and fascinating that I am actually willingly getting up early to make sure I am there!

But this morning, was testing day!  I thought I was fine and ready.  Until I sat down clutching my #2 pencil and was handed my packet  of questions and the scan tron sheet.  I took one look at that white sheet, with all those empty little bubbles, and promptly had a panic attack. 

My heart felt like it was going to bounce right out of my chest, the butterflies in my stomach somehow morphed into B-52s.  I started to hyperventilate!  It was a nightmare.  The young lady next to me asked me what was wrong, and for some odd reason I wanted to laugh!

What was wrong?  Did she not see how ridiculous this picture was?  I am a 40+ year old woman, sitting in a room full of college jocks and teeny-boppers with a scan tron and a number 2 pencil in my hands.  What the  %#$*_)*&$ was I thinking??

I took some deep breaths and calmed myself down a bit.  Taking one last huge gulp of air, I opened the test booklet.  Did you know that testing booklets are now written in some obscure Latin dialect?  That must have been it; because I did not recognize any of those words on the page!

I did pull it together enough to complete the test.  How much of it was correct remains to be seen.

One thing is for sure.  I came face to face with one of my lifelong terrors today, and came out with my head held high.  I think I can do this after all!

Testing

I have to tell you . . .I HATE TESTS!!!

A huge part of the reason I left college in the first place was testing.  I'm sorry, but really, how much information can you get from someone by asking them a bunch of questions, in a high pressure situation in a limited amount of time?  No seriously?  Couldn't someone just give me a written exam and tell me to bring it back in the morning?  That way I could go home, pour myself a glass of wine and impart my vast store of knowledge on some paper!  That sounds like a plan!!  (I guess its a good thing I don't want to be a emergency room doctor!)

Alas, some things in the halls of higher education never change.  I swear though, that there were blue books at the inquisition!

Algebra was last night.  I actually survived it!  Surprisingly enough, I actually told the instructor that I was enjoying the class!  No, I was not kissing up!  For the first time ever, I am having fun in a math class!  Does that make me some sort of geek?

Friday is Biology and next week is computers.  I think I may live through this!

Old memories

I found an old television show online that I used to love.  It was sweet and romantic and always spoke to me of what true love, real, unselfish love should be like.  I smiled as I clicked the play button, but there was a tear in my eye as the theme music started to play.

You see, there was always a tear in my eye when I watched this program.  when it went off air and into syndication, I used to stay up late into the night, every night, to watch it.  I'm sure that back then I had every episode memorized.  And at the end of every episode, I was always in tears.

Okay, I know that sounds rather nutty.  After all, if a television show affects you that much, you should probably not watch it, right?  Wrong.  I was in tears every night because I was watching something that I desperately wanted and was quite sure I would never experience!

I had had many examples of love in my life.  My grandparents were a solid rock that was the foundation for our family.  My mother and father still held hands and kissed in public right up until the day he died.  Even my great-aunt, who was single taught me about love.  You see, she had met someone during WWII, when she was a WAVE.  She fell in love, and then discovered he was married.  She left him, but never married.  She told me once that no one else ever measured up to him.

I know that when he died, my grandmother made my grandfather take my aunt to the funeral home.  My aunt had insisted on going and grandma didn't want her to be alone.

Yes, I had many examples of love in my childhood, and as I grew up, I came to believe that I was not good enough, not pretty enough, or skinny enough for anyone to truly love me that way.

So, I would turn the television on every night and cry for what I could see on the screen, but felt was way out of my reach.  Then I ran into my love while bleeding from the head in a National Park.  It was no glass slipper, but it was perfect!

It was the most glorious feeling in the world.  No holds barred, no secrets, and no conditions.  It was amazing.  I felt like a princess in a fairy tale.  Meeting him was the beginning of a long process of self examination.  I was good enough for someone.  He loved me no matter what my weight was, no matter what silly thing I had done, or whatever crazy adventure I had cooked up.

I finally had someone who would take my hand and go with me on the journey.  Our life has not been easy, I don't think life is supposed to be easy for anyone.  But through it all we have each other.

He has taken on this new journey with me.  Encouraged me in every way possible and cheered me on when I succeed.  When I fail, he helps pull me up, brush off and move one.

So yes, there was a tear in my eye as I hit play.  Not because it reminded me of what I used to want and believe, but because it reminded me that all fairy tales, true fairy tales, have a happy ending.  You just have to be willing to slay a dragon or two along the way.

Pressure

School conferences were last week for The Boy.  I had class, so hubby got to go on his own this time.  Here is something you need to know about The Boy; no one is harder on him than he is.

The funny part is that every time conferences roll around, we always seem to end up with one teacher who has never had our wonderful child before.  Now, this teacher is totally enamored of our son and thinks that we are truly evil and horribly strict parents.  They think that we ride him really hard and punish him for grades that we think are unacceptable.  Please understand that this is a false impression.  The teacher normally changes their tune after meeting us.

Because, the truth is, that hubby and I spend a lot of time trying to get The Boy to lighten up on himself!  He expects so much of himself that I am often afraid he is going to become neurotic!  My job, as I see it, is to try to get him to give himself a break and celebrate his successes and not dwell on mistakes.

It seems that I need to learn to take my own advice.

During lunch today, I was reading a People magazine.  It was the issue that they call "Half their Size", featuring people who have lost a significant amount of weight.  I, of course, felt compelled to look it over.

The articles were very uplifting and affirming.  You know what struck me the most?  The length of time it took these folks to lost the weight.  One lady had started in 2007, another in 2005.  Yes, they lost over 100 pounds, but they did it slowly.  It didn't happen all at once, or even in a year!

I've been beating myself up lately because I am still at a bit of a standstill.  I had a year in my head when I started this venture and that year is almost up.  I have been feeling like a bit of a failure.

I need to learn to take my own advice!  I need to give myself a break!  Who ever said there was a time limit in which I needed to be at my goal weight.  Okay, so I did!  What do I know?

Just because things are not moving along as quickly as I like, that does not mean that I have failed.  Apparently, I'm just human.

Huh, imagine that!  Me and They Boy - human through and through!

Snowy Wednesday

I feel like a little kid right now.  Snow day!!  No school, no work!  No going anywhere, I hope we don't run out of milk?

What is the deal with milk and bread and blizzards anyway?  The minute people heard there was  a big snow coming, everyone ran out to the store to get bread and milk.  Does milk have some sort of magical effect on snow?

If you don't usually drink milk do you run out and stock up when you hear a snow storm is coming?

These are the things I ponder as I sit here and drink my . . . .smoothie!