tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73733097108887965502024-03-18T15:54:16.466-04:00A Mom Walks into a BarreAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.comBlogger129125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-40751573479659038392017-05-20T08:16:00.000-04:002017-05-20T08:16:05.289-04:00The Price of Freedom: On Library Fines and ResiliencyI owe money. To the mortgage company, yes, but I have another debt.<br />
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Before I share my story, let me tell you that I hate debt. I really believe that financial freedom contributes to heart freedom. I believe that the borrower is the servant of the lender. I believe in promptly paying my debts, should I incur them (which I rarely do.)<br />
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But I keep forgetting to pay this one. And it's nagging at me.<br />
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Friends, I owe 60 cents to the local public library.<br />
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I usually return my books on time, really! Our library system sends out email reminders two days before books are due, and that saves my bacon most of the time. But on this occaision, (<i>At Home</i> by Bill Bryson, if you must know) I just didn't get my act together, and now I'm a deadbeat debtor. If this were 1845, Charles Dickens would be penning my sordid tale of penury.<br />
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But you know what? I'm not going to be brought down by this. Later on today, I'm going to put on my big girl knickers, scrape together two quarters and a dime and get myself back in the black. I will not be undone by a sixty cent library fine!<br />
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Apparently, the same could not have been said for Harvard University students. Last week, <a href="https://www.wsj.com/articles/notable-quotable-stressed-at-harvard-1493766401">the Wall Street Journal reported</a> that the Harvard library system will no longer levy fines for overdue books. The fifty-cent-per-day fee was just too much for these bright young things. Not financially too much, but emotionally.<br />
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Steven Beardsley, the associate director for access services administrative operations and special projects (say THAT ten times fast) said the goal of the new policy was to "improve the student experience and embrace a 'One Harvard' approach for borrowing material across Harvard Library."<br />
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Ummm.... how is eliminating the accountability of an overdue book fine going to accomplish this? Won't students just hang on to books indefinitely, thus depriving their fellow students the opportunity to access to this material? I'm trying to figure out how Mr. Director of Access Services, etc. etc. thinks this is going to help with access...<br />
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The real corker, however, comes next. Mr. Beardsley adds, "We have witnessed firsthand the stress that overdue fines can cause for students."<br />
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NO. You didn't just say that. People, seriously, this is an elite university. Getting into Harvard is notoriously difficult, especially these days. Harvard students do crazy things, like invent Facebook. They can't handle the stress of overdue library fines?!?<br />
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A lot of people are using this as another platform to complain about millennials, but I'm not going to do that. I'm going to weep for them.<br />
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As we all know, life can be hard. Even in the age of flushing toilets, antibiotics and Netflix. Hard things happen. I'm not even talking about wars or natural disasters, I'm talking about normal hard things, like losing a job or a loved one. Financial reversals (greater than sixty cents), sick children, a neighbor's tree falling on your house, infertility, divorce... these are all normal hard things. ALL OF US will have to deal with some combination of these things at points in our lives. If people can't handle library fines, how are they going to handle life?<br />
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So in my quest to always be practical and helpful, here are a few suggestions to this conundrum:<br />
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<b>Return your books on time.</b> I hate to point out the obvious, but the stress of fines can be avoided this way. Note due dates on your calendar and/or set an alarm on your phone. If your library offers alerts as mine does, sign up for them. (Without those alerts, I'd probably owe $7,000, for real.)<br />
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<b>If you screw up and forget to return your books, just PAY THE FINE.</b> It's ok! Once you pay the fine, it will all be fine. (Maybe that's why it's called a fine? I don't know. It's a theory.)<br />
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But PLEASE--in our zeal to make life comfortable and friendly,<b> let us not eradicate a perfectly reasonable measure of accountability.</b> We are not helping young adults when we pretend that there are not consequences for their actions. Your student loan servicer is not going to be so tender with your feelings, nor will your credit card company, mortgage lender or your future spouse. We don't help them when we basically say your inability to return your books on time does not have real repercussions on other people. Get over yourself, think of others. They might want (or in the case of students, NEED) to read that book. Return it.<br />
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So, my friends, with that I can tell you that Bill Bryson's fascinating book <i>At Home</i> has been safely returned to the Minuteman Library System and is available for your reading pleasure. And thanks to my temporary amnesia, the system is sixty cents richer.<br />
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Everyone wins!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-60915645309163871652017-03-01T12:33:00.001-05:002017-03-01T19:08:00.245-05:00You Can't 'Cover Your Plate,' Thoughts on Wedding Etiquette and.... Lent?Not long ago, I was discussing wedding gifts with a group of people. Someone was asking what would be an appropriate amount to spend on a gift. Most of us urged the giver to consider her level of closeness to the couple, paired with awareness of her own modest means. A few others, however, urged her to try to 'cover her plate.'<br />
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I had never heard of this custom, so I inquired further. What on earth does it mean to 'cover your plate?'<br />
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It seems that, in some pockets of the country (apparently, not mine), a wedding guest is supposed to give a gift commensurate to the costs incurred by the host to feed him or her at the wedding. If the wedding is an extravagant one at a posh hotel or historic mansion, for example, you give a nicer gift than one being held at the VFW. The idea is to be a 'good guest' by defraying the cost of the wedding.<br />
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!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />
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Once I picked my jaw up off the floor, I asked how is one to know what is being spent? I got married years ago, so I have no clue how much it costs to have a wedding anywhere these days. Some people said you can make discreet inquiries, but generally you just guestimate. One person told me the mother of the bride at one wedding to which she was invited loudly broadcasted the cost-per-head so people would know what to pay. That was generally frowned upon by the cover-your-platers as 'really rude.'<br />
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Um. YEAH.<br />
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I tried to contain my shock and horror at this barbaric practice as I questioned further. What if your beloved sister is being married at the local Cracker Barrel? Do you get her a vegetable peeler, while giving a random colleague a KitchenAid mixer because her wedding is more expensive? I mean, really, I'm asking. Because this whole idea is, to me, abhorrent.<br />
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"Oh no, not necessarily. Cover your plate is a guideline. It's just good manners. It's, like, in Emily Post, you know."<br />
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No, I don't know, so I did some of my exhaustive internet research. As I expected, it is NOT a rule of etiquette. Emily Post (and her progeny who carry on her work) <a href="http://emilypost.com/advice/choosing-a-wedding-gift/">never advocated covering your plate</a>. Neither does Miss Manners, who is quite adamant that a gift is freely given, never <i>required</i>. The whole idea that you are expected to effectively pay for your food at a wedding is awful. And, <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/08/05/manners-mondays_n_3709116.html">according to one wedding planner</a>, it encourages brides and grooms to spend more on their weddings with the assumption that they'll recoup some of their losses in gifts.<br />
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My face is in my hands and I am weeping for the barbarism of humanity. Truly, this is so awful. Have we completely lost any sense of what it means to be a gracious host? If I am hosting a party, I do not charge my guests at the door. Do you know why? Because they are my GUESTS. Being a guest means you don't have to pay. (This is why I hate it when hotels and restaurants refer to paying customers as 'guests.' If you are going to hand me a bill when I leave, I am not a guest.)<br />
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Guests receive the hospitality of others. Typically, a guest will provide flowers or wine (or in one case, a melon) as a gesture of thanks, but even that is not <i>required</i>. I will think nothing less of anyone who comes empty handed, because it is my pleasure to have them. I don't expect them to do some back-of-the-napkin calculation on how much I'm spending to feed them.<br />
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Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the season in the liturgical calendar called Lent. It is the forty days (minus Sundays) preceding the high holy day of Easter, at which we celebrate the resurrection of our Lord. Lent has traditionally been a solemn period of sacrifice and reflection. Historically, Christians engaged in the practice of fasting during this time. Many people give something up--TV, chocolate, wine, sacrificing some pleasure that makes them more mindful of the sacrifice of Christ.<br />
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Many protestant denominations do not observe Lent, and some people even denounce it as a works-based vestige of medieval Catholicism. That's not a completely unfair association--indeed, the middle ages saw practices like Lent sorely abused. The idea that we give something up, then God 'owes' us is an easy seed to sow in the human heart. When you think about it, the death of God's only son hardly competes with giving up Facebook for six weeks! That's about how absurd the idea of owing God is, but it's an easy place for the heart to go.<br />
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All that said, my Presbyterian self loves me some good Lent, and I commend other Christians to explore it. Your Easter celebration is immeasurably sweeter--literally--when it is preceded by a season of restraint. It is humbling. We can't bring anything to gates of heaven. We can't 'cover our plates' at the celestial banquet. We can't even try. The work was done on the cross, and not by us.<br />
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One cover-your-plate advocate said, 'it's just about being a good guest.' And I can appreciate how, on the surface, it might feel that way. I'm not being a bother. I'm not putting the hosts out too much by coming to the wedding if I pay up. But in so doing, we cease to be guests. Being a 'good guest' means, in a sense, to humble ourselves. We have to receive. The only thing required of a guest is to respond to the gift with thankfulness and rejoicing. Gifts, by definition, are freely given. Grace is a gift, we can't cover it.<br />
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During my plate-covering research, I happened upon a very entertaining blog called '<a href="http://weddinghellsbells.com/">Hells Bells</a>.' (It seems to be dormant, the most recent post is dated September 2014.) It's basically a catalog of wedding etiquette misdeeds. I guarantee it will make you feel better about loudly blowing your nose during a friend's wedding in 1997 (not saying I did that, just conjecturing, really...) It can also make you feel deliciously superior for never having transgressed quite as badly as some.<br />
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And if while reading it, you are troubled by a smug self-righteousness bubbling up in your soul, fear not--there's always Lent!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-10350369937782639492017-02-23T08:54:00.000-05:002017-02-23T10:14:31.918-05:00Making Myself Redundant: On Raising Free-Range KidsI have long been a fan of journalist-turned-activist Lenore Skenazy, author of the book <i>Free-Range Kids</i>. She advocates giving our kids more freedom to roam, try things out, and even screw up from time to time. Her book is a fascinating exploration of what has led to denying our children the very freedoms we 1970's kids were given, and took for granted. It's also laugh-out-loud funny.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Free-range in a cemetery! <br />
We decided benefit of finding Easter eggs outweighed risk of zombies.</td></tr>
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Skenazy became somewhat famous about ten years ago when she allowed her 9-year-old to ride the NYC subway by himself. Before you freak out and call her 'America's Worst Mom,' as others have, know that Skenazy and her family live in NYC, ride the subway all the time, and the 9-year-old in question was itching to ride it all by himself. So Skenazy discussed it with her husband, and they decided to let him give it a try. Armed with a transit map, quarters for a pay phone and some extra money in case he needed it, the young man departed from Bloomingdale's in Mid-town and an hour later, arrived back at their home in Queens, feeling quite pleased with himself.<br />
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She wrote about the event a month later in her column in the New York Post, and a firestorm ensued. People were OUTRAGED and called her all kinds of terrible things, like 'worst mom in America.' (If only Skenazy <i>were </i>the worst mom in America.... Wouldn't that be great?)<br />
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So shocked was she by the outrage that she started a movement. She's on talk shows now and even had her own TV show (which I have not seen) in which she encourages helicopter parents to let their kids do crazy stuff like cut their own food (because if mom doesn't cut it for them, they might choke!)</div>
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One of the things I like about the book is, despite Skenazy's biting humor, she doesn't shame parents for their fears and worries. She explains how we got to where we feel like a 10-year-old can't cross the street by himself. She cites the media (of course), parenting books (while noting the irony that hers is, in fact, a parenting book) and lawyers (double of course) as just a few of the culprits who fill us with anxiety about the safety of our kids. </div>
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It's an interesting thing, this idea of turning our kids loose. In our Boston suburb, the vast majority of parents are unwilling to do it. Supervision, playdates and scheduled activities are the name of the game in this town, which, by the way, has been consistently named one of the best places to live in America. Great schools, close to the city with decent public transportation, and.... wait for it... very, very safe. The crime rate in our town (especially violent crime) is, mercifully, extremely low. We feel really blessed to have moved here during the recession, thus making it affordable for us. (That's the only negative--it's expensive. Great schools, the T and low crime doesn't come cheap.)</div>
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Yet rather than all the neighborhood kids taking advantage of this safety and filling the streets with games of kickball, our neighborhood is usually crickets in the afternoon. Practically no one is out playing, if they are, there is almost always a parent or babysitter close at hand. (That is, except for my child, who is running around in camo pretending to shoot imaginary Nazis with a hockey stick.)</div>
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My firstborn, also aged 9, is a very independent, adventurous sort of person. He likes freedom. And really, he's quite responsible, so I've been turning him loose for a while. When he was five, I let him scamper off ahead of me to the local park while I strapped his brother into the stroller and searched the house for my shoes. He'd typically arrive 5 to as late as 20 minutes ahead of me, playing with the kids at the school's aftercare program (where there was adult supervision.) A kind elderly neighbor once followed him there, sure that he had run away without my knowledge. When he saw me following behind, I assured him that the bigger little was rogue with my blessing.</div>
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Last year, he walked home from the barber shop alone. It's a good 15 minute walk from our house. He had gone with my husband on a Saturday morning, and after his haircut didn't want to wait for his father's, so my husband texted me that he was heading home on his own and to text back when he arrived. So off trotted our boy. A few minutes later, I got a call from his former preschool teacher, who lives on the barber shop route. "I saw your big little out walking by himself!," said she, in anxious tones. "He looks like he knows where he's going, and is crossing the street safely, but I wanted to make sure you knew he was out on his own!"</div>
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I thanked her kindly for her concern and assured her that he was, indeed, out with the blessing of both his parents. In fact, as we were talking, he arrived on the doorstep, still slurping on the lollipop he'd received from barber. (He was probably at the greatest risk of falling and impaling the roof of his mouth with the lollipop stick, but that's another story.)</div>
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I am very thankful for kindly neighbors and former preschool teachers. (I'm also thankful they talk to me directly rather than call the cops, as other parents of free-range kids have experienced.) That's the kind of nice community I live in, and I thank God for it. But I do think it's interesting that we're so afraid of letting our kids walk around in broad daylight by themselves. Is there risk involved? Could they be hit by a car or snatched by a nefarious stranger? Yes, they could, though Skenazy makes a strong case for the gross exaggeration of the latter.</div>
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Truly, bad things can happen. Very bad things, but here's the rub: <b>do we not see that NOT letting our kids spread their wings a little is, in itself, a bad thing? </b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>When we had kids, my husband and I decided that our job, in a practical sense, was to make our children independent of us. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>To make <i>ourselves</i> redundant.</b> </span></div>
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Yes, walking around alone is taking a risk--for all of us, child or adult. But we take risks all the time. We make risk assessments quite literally <b>all</b> the time. We decide the benefits of car transport are worth the risk of an accident, that the health benefits of exercise are worth the risk of an injury, that the pleasure of eating a donut is worth the risk of... well, eating a donut.</div>
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In keeping our kids indoors and/or constantly supervised, the risks include, but are not limited to, a profound lack of confidence in their own abilities, compromised health and motor skills from lack of outdoor play, and a want of general life skills they need to survive and thrive on their own. I have read copious articles about today's college kids hovered over by overprotective parents. I thought it was exaggeration, but many of my friends with children that age tell me otherwise. Crazy stories of legal adults who cannot function without the most basic aid from their parents. They can speak two foreign languages and milked a yak on an educational trip to Nepal, but they can't pick their own courses or cook a meal. </div>
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So I think there is a strong argument for being a little more free-range. Does this mean you need to send your 9-year-old on the subway? Or even on his own to the barber shop? Of course not. What level of independence your children have should take into consideration the many factors of your situation, but let's not let our own fear be the driving factor. Let's consider the whole picture--risks AND benefits, not just the imaginary child-snatcher around the corner.</div>
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I really don't want to be insensitive to fear--I have a couple of friends who have lost children to accidents, and it's awful. But I don't think we should allow fear to override rational assessment of risk to benefit. Fear shouldn't <i>rule </i>us, or our kids.</div>
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Recently, I decided to redouble my efforts to make myself redundant. Maybe I'll blog about that some more, but in the meantime, what do you think? Am I cray cray? The worst mom in Massachusetts? Let's discuss!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-87772290222317209052017-02-07T20:49:00.001-05:002017-02-07T20:49:43.702-05:00Ready, Steady, Cook! Using a Cook Up to Simplify Meal PlanningI've long been committed to avoiding processed food, making things from scratch and buying local. But by the time I prepped three meals a day for my family of four and the odd snack here and there, I felt like I was spending half my day in the kitchen. It was ridiculous.<br />
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Something had to change.<br />
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Lack of time is often a reason cited for not cooking at home, and I can appreciate why. It <i>is </i>time consuming to shop, chop and cook. And then there's the clean up... oy. But peeps, it's worth it! You can cook a great dinner for a <i>fraction </i>of what it would cost in a restaurant, and you know what's in it. You can control what goes into the pot and how much. Yes, it takes time, but there are ways to cook at home that won't require you chained to the sink well into the evening. One way is...<br />
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The cook up! Also called 'batch cooking,' and maybe a few other words I can't mention on my family blog, the cook up will take you some time, but only on the front end. It involves making different things all at once, then mixing and matching those foods to create a variety of meals you can have throughout the week. <br />
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Here's how it works in my house:<br />
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<li>Plan to make a soup or salad, at least two vegetables, and at least two protein sources. </li>
<li>Clean out the fridge and determine what needs to be used up, then shop for whatever else is needed.</li>
<li>Block off about two to three hours when you won't be distracted and gather all your ingredients and equipment (pots, pans, etc.) Try to reuse as many items as possible to make clean up easier.</li>
<li>Make sure you have plenty of leftover dishes for all your yummies.</li>
<li>Cook the items that need the longest cook time first, then work down from there. </li>
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Last Monday morning I did a cook up for the week. I planned to roast several different root vegetables, saute onions, peppers and broccoli, prep carrots and broccoli for a stir fry, cook chicken breast and ground beef, make a pot of rice and and a stir fry sauce. I budgeted two hours and targeted using only one cutting board, a knife, vegetable peeler, large saute pan and a roasting pan.<br />
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(I posted this on Instagram (@momsatthebarre) and most people were interested in whether or not I actually only used one cutting board, a knife, vegetable peeler, large saute pan and a roasting pan. Stay tuned for THAT...)</div>
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Here's how it went:</div>
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I started by preheating the oven for roasting. I washed four small sweet potatoes, pricked them with a fork and put them in the oven to bake whole on the roasting pan, which I had covered in aluminum foil.</div>
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While the potatoes were baking, I peeled a butternut squash and chopped it into cubes. I tossed the cubes in olive oil and sprinkled them with salt. I pushed the sweet potatoes to one side of the roasting pan and tossed the squash on the pan. </div>
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Then I peeled the parsnips, another sweet potato and the beets, and halved the acorn squash and scooped out the seeds. I chopped each vegetable separately, tossed them in oil and sprinkled with salt and roasted them--again, separately so I can use them how I want later. <b>I did use another roasting pan here, but I covered it in foil, so clean up was easy.</b></div>
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Next, I chopped up a few onions and some garlic and sauteed them in oil. I took out about half the onions and set them aside, then I added a bell pepper to the pan. While those were cooking, I chopped the broccoli stalks and added those to the pan. Finally, I added the florets and cooked them until they were just barely done. (This way, when I reheat the vegetables later, the broccoli won't be overdone.) </div>
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I also chopped up some carrots and broccoli and left them raw. </div>
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Finally, I cut up the chicken. I did this last so I wouldn't have to wash the cutting board before using it on the vegetables. I cooked the chicken in the saute pan, then I browned the ground beef. I made a gravy of sorts with the pan juices, which took all of two minutes. </div>
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While the meats were cooking, I mixed up the stir fry sauce, started some rice in the rice cooker and put the soup together in the slow cooker. I made the soup with the butternut squash. I put the roasted squash, the onions/garlic I had set aside, and some chicken broth I had made yesterday. I'll add cream later and puree with a stick blender later. (I LOVE my stick blender, by the way. I have a Cuisinart model. The blade detaches and can go in the dishwasher! Score!)</div>
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<b>So how did I to use these delights?</b></div>
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I made a stir fry, a shepherd's pie, a lentil stew, quesadillas, and a frittata. We had the soup as a side dish a few times. Last night I made some fish and we had what vegetables remained. </div>
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This cook up took about two and a half hours, including clean up. That's longer than I had planned, but I decided to assemble the soup. I also made a little mini pie with an apple that one of the little darlings had bitten into and left to die. Clean up took maybe ten minutes, tops. I planned this one pretty well so I was able to reuse the same equipment. Yay!</div>
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I can't take credit for this idea--I've read about it in a few different places. For me, it's been great, especially when my husband is traveling for work, which is often. My early attempts were not great successes (translation: HUGE mess at the end), but after a few tries, I've gotten more efficient. Each time, I learn something new. This time I wish I had made more of some of the vegetables. I used up most of them early in the week and had to make more, which was a pain.<br />
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Ah well, live and learn.<br />
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If you're a fan of the cook up, or want to be, give me a shout! I'd love to hear what works and what doesn't. Happy cooking!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-28651418491923886222017-01-26T18:40:00.000-05:002017-01-26T19:06:27.366-05:00If Step and Barre had a Love Child: Pure Barre Platform!Goodness gracious, so many months since I posted last. My computer died. I know, you were all hanging on by a thread, roaming through your lives bereft... well, I'm back. On the darling's computer. I'm wearing horse blinders to block out the mess that is his desk.<br />
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Anyway, I've missed sharing my spicy thoughts and opinions with you all. And believe me, I have a lot to say. Today, instead of prepping the overwhelming talk I'm supposed to give to my son's third grade class tomorrow, I'm going to talk with you about....<br />
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<b>Pure Barre PLATFORM!</b><br />
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Barre classes typically follow the same basic format--warm-up/arms, thighs, seat, abs, and stretch. It's a formula that works, but if you're a barre junkie like me, sometimes you want to... well, step it up.<br />
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Which is why I was delighted to see that Pure Barre, the nation's most prolific barre brand, offer up something a little different from their usual fare.<br />
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Pure Barre's typical class is not boring. They tend to go out of their way to make the exercises interesting, almost to the point (I find) some are a little awkward, but I appreciate the effort. There is a nice variety of movements in a typical PB class, but sometimes you want a change, so PB launched Platform a few months ago.<br />
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<b>What to expect:</b><br />
It's basically step meets barre. Platform uses what I'm guessing is about a 6-inch high, square step, along with the usual PB props of light weights, and maybe a tube and/or small ball.<br />
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The class starts out with a fast-paced warm-up using the step. You move on to combo work with the weights and step. Typical barre moves are interspersed with cardio bursts on the platform. You still work thighs, seat and abs, but the pace is FAST. Not a lot of breaks. A lot of sweat. Yay!<br />
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<b>What I like about Platform:</b><br />
Everything. Seriously, I love Platform. The class flies by. It is SO FUN! There are fewer reps than you do in a regular PB class, and the exercises change more frequently, so you're never bored.<br />
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You also sweat, sweat, sweat. I was definitely anaerobic at times, but there were sufficient intervals that I didn't find it overkill. You'll also clock some steps on the Fitbit, and that's always nice.<br />
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You also don't have any flat- or round-back abs. I hate those.<br />
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<b>What I didn't like about Platform:</b><br />
Ummm.... not much. There really isn't much I didn't like about Platform, and I've taken it quite a few times from several different instructors. There are a couple of funky moves that feel a little awkward to me. For example, we tend to bounce up and down on one leg with the other leg up around my head. I mean, it's not exactly functional fitness, that one. But it got my heart rate up so hey, not complaining.<br />
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Also, it's not offered that often at my local studios. I mean, just a couple times a week that I can actually make, but that's ok. I'll clear the calendar because....<br />
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I. LOVE. PLATFORM. 💗💗💗<br />
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Check out your closest local Pure Barre (or 'Pure Barry', as the guy on Google Maps likes to call it) at www.purebarre.com.<br />
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Next up on the blog--I'll review Bar Method Bar Move, and I'm going to talk about doing a weekly cook up! I posted about that on Instagram and Facebook the other day, so stay tuned! (and follow on IG @momsatthebarre). I'm lonely out here in blogger land after all this time, so talk to me. I'm back, peeps!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-11922982312133546172016-09-24T09:37:00.000-04:002016-09-24T09:37:24.804-04:00How I'm Paid as a HousewifeA couple of weeks ago, I watched <i>Churchill's Secret</i>, a made-for-TV movie about the late British Prime Minister's recovery from a series of strokes in 1953. Ramola Garai plays Churchill's plucky nurse. She delays her emigration to Australia to marry her sweetheart to care for Churchill. According to the movie, she loves her job and is having some angst at moving to Australia to become 'just a wife.' (Do we know Millie Appleyard was feeling this way? Or is this some feminist spin injected into the life story of a woman about whom, really, we probably know very little?)<br />
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Last year, I finally got around to watching the last couple of seasons of <i>Foyle's War</i>. You know, the ones that tragically did not include Sgt. Milner. Less eye-candy, for sure, but still a great show and worth watching. In these, the character Sam(antha) is now married, and at the end is expecting a child. As per the dictates of 1950's culture, Sam has to leave her job to be home full-time with her baby. She's not too happy about it, and makes some pretty disparaging comments about the horror of being 'stuck at home changing nappies all day.'<br />
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My firstborn is in a World War II phase. He's like his mother--he gets a topic in his mind and reads voraciously about it until his obsession is spent or he has read through all the books on it in the library, whichever comes first. So we're reading a lot about World War II, and invariably, the Rosie the Riveter chapters tell glowing stories of women thrust into the workforce during the war, and their GREAT, SEETHING DISAPPOINTMENT at having to go back home after the it was over. I mean, really, according to every book, every single woman absolutely *LOVED* her factory job and was severely disappointed at having to chain herself to her kitchen when the men came home. You can almost hear the 'clink' of the prison gates as she shuts her front door.<br />
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From all this, we can only presume one thing: housework is inherently dreary, oppressive and demeaning. You can't possibly be 'fulfilled' doing housework. No way.<br />
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But I'm going to let you in on a little secret: I'm 'just a housewife.' I'm 'just a wife,' 'just a mother.' And I love it. I thank God everyday that I can be home, and I have pretty much no desire to go back to work. I actually like cooking. I don't mind working in the yard. I get a little thrill when I can use up all the leftovers without anything spoiling. I get jazzed when I find a good deal on raspberries or chicken (I got a whole chicken for free once. For real!) I like making crazy birthday cakes for my kids. I feel immensely satisfied when a room is tidy, or I tuck my kids into beds that smell like clean sheets dried on the clothesline, or when order has been restored to the chaos that is the LEGO corner or our upstairs playroom. (That doesn't happen very often, but when it does, it's nice.) I like teaching my kids to vacuum and dust even though it's easier to do it myself.<br />
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I like doing letter worksheets with my five year old. I like reading World War II books with my eight year old. I like tying them into their train and pumpkin aprons and baking cookies, talking about fractions and macro-nutrients and yumminess as we pour things into a bowl.<br />
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I like paying bills and saving money and strategizing how we can pay off our mortgage early.<br />
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I couldn't do all these things if I worked outside the home. I'm just not that productive. And I don't think people should feel like they <i>have </i>to do all these things and work outside the home. Yes, some need doing (laundry), others are just for fun (birthday cakes.) There are only 24 hours in the day. Something has to give.<br />
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When people ask me 'what I do,' I tell them 'I'm at home.' No one has ever been snarky or rude about it. People are always very nice and polite, but the conversation usually stops there. There's typically a rather awkward silence. People just don't usually know how to engage me in conversation once I admit I'm not splitting the atom. Feeling the awkwardness, I usually end up saying things like, 'I do volunteer work.' Which is true. 'I help out at the kids' school.' Also true. 'My husband works crazy hours and travels a lot, so I don't even know how we would manage if I had a job.' 'I'm very involved with my church.' 'I have a child with special needs.' True, true and true. But it's as if I feel I have to justify being home. As if keeping house is not enough. Because although people are very nice and polite, I feel like they're thinking.... what does she <i>do </i>all day?<br />
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Sometimes I think I'm probably just projecting. That people aren't really thinking that. And they probably aren't. They probably aren't thinking about me at all. They're probably making their grocery lists in their minds. Or thinking about a work deadline. Or maybe they are thinking, how on earth do I relate to this dinosaur from the 1950's? How do I make conversation with someone who washes dishes and does laundry all day? Her house must be <i>so </i>clean.<br />
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Well, it's not. Right now the upstairs toilet is kind of nasty, but I'm procrastinating by writing on my blog. I lose my patience and my temper and my keys. And I'm certainly not the world's greatest mother. I lost my temper in a kind of epic way last week, and begged my firstborn's forgiveness with tears in my eyes. And he gave it so freely.... that I cried even more.<br />
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Whatever any family decides to do with paid work and housework is up to them and it's none of my--or anyone else's--business. But we <i>have </i>elevated paid work above the unpaid. Whether someone works a paid job all day or not, those household chores need doing. Whether you do it yourself or pay someone else to do it, it needs doing, and it blesses people when it's done. Just because you didn't receive a check for the doing, doesn't mean it isn't worth something. Betty Friedan told us we couldn't be fulfilled without paid work, and as a society, we believed her. The irony is that I now hear feminists complain that 'care-giving,' which is usually done by women, is undervalued. Ummm, yes. It is. And who started that, I wonder?<br />
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Yet no work is unpaid, not really. Last night, as my boys and I were supping on chips, salsa and olives after flag-football practice, my firstborn said, "Mommy, this is my refuge." I looked at him for a moment with alarm. He's not usually the introspective, mushy type, so I wondered.... Why does he need refuge? Did someone bully him on the school bus?!<br />
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"What do you mean?" I replied. He said, "You told me once that our home is my refuge. That no matter what happens in the world, this is where I can come for peace and rest, and it is."<br />
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And that was payment, larger than any check I could ever be given.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-77761334451193373732016-09-08T15:11:00.000-04:002016-09-09T06:17:24.016-04:00Quick! Fast! Learn How I Lost 15lbs. This SummerYears ago, when I was single, childless and living in low-maintenance, rented apartments, I was something of a mystic. I read Julian of Norwich and went on silent prayer retreats. I walked labyrinths and even made a pilgrimage to Taize, the French monastery known for it's moving chants.<br />
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That's what I <i>did</i>, but really, to be a mystic is more about what you <i>don't </i>do. In Christianity, the way up is often down. The way to salvation rests on someone else's doing, not your own.<br />
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I was led to try out some of the traditional Christian disciplines that have been almost totally abandoned by modern American protestants. I learned to sit in a verse (or even just a word) of scripture for a long time. I rested on the Sabbath, instead of stopping off at the grocery store on the way home from church. I made a Lenten sacrifice every year, and... I fasted.<br />
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The practice of fasting--that is, intentionally going without food for a period of time--is an ancient one, and it is not limited to Christianity. All the major religions have advocated fasting. Early Christians fasted, typically on Wednesdays and Fridays. It's a practice that's all over the Bible.<br />
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I'll be honest, I never really took to fasting. I enjoyed Taize chants a whole lot more. I found fasting profoundly difficult and uncomfortable. Of all the traditional practices that have fallen by the wayside since I've become a mother, fasting was probably the first to go.<br />
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However, I've recently learned how profoundly good for us it is! Contrary to modern advice, going without food for a day... or two or three... is <b>extremely </b>healthy. It is when we abstain from eating that our bodies can divert energy to the business of repair. By depriving the body of food for a time, our insulin levels drop. Insulin, the hormone secreted by the pancreas to deal with blood sugar, is a healthy response to eating. It is a storage hormone. Insulin scurries around, putting away all the glucose--first for immediate fuel, then into muscles as glycogen, then whatever is leftover is stored as fat. Without it, we're in big trouble, but over time, the constant eating advocated by the snack manufacturers can lead to insulin resistance, which is the precursor to type-2 diabetes. This nasty disease is so preventable--and, it turns out--reversible!<br />
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Fasting makes our bodies more insulin-sensitive. So does exercise. Going without food for a bit is not going to throw our bodies into 'starve mode,' that state in which the body cannibalizes muscle to survive. Most of us have plenty of stored fuel in our bodies to last us a few days... or weeks, even. And, contrary to other weight loss diets, people who lose weight by fasting lose far less muscle. One study found the average lost muscle in the fasting group was only one pound, compared with a 10lb. muscle loss average in the low-calorie diet group. And fasting is, in my opinion, much easier to stick with. You eat normally on non-fast days. It's not a free-for-all, but it's normal eating. It might involve ice cream. Or wine. You're not forsaking treats forever and ever. Just for today.<br />
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I'll admit, my renewed interest in fasting was not to get in touch with God in a deeper way, nor was it motivated by a desire to understand the suffering of the poor. I was driven by my growing weight gain.<br />
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As I've mentioned before, a couple of winters ago, I put on some weight. I was surprised to find that my summer clothes did not fit at all well after the long, harsh winter of 2015. I had gained 15lbs, which slowly started to increase to 20. I tried all my usual tactics to reign things in, and to my great surprise, NOTHING worked. I even went very low-carb for a few weeks. And I lost a pound. Way to much good stuff to give up for only a pound!<br />
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I eventually tried to make my peace with it. I had read that many women gain around 10lbs. during perimenopause, that this was a normal and healthy thing and not something to be feared, so I tried to console myself with that. Yet my weight continued to climb. Despite the healthy eating, despite the workouts, I was getting heavier and heavier. (And no, it wasn't muscle, but thanks for asking.) I went shopping earlier this summer and I could not believe what I saw in the mirror. I didn't even recognize myself.<br />
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The next day, I decided to fast. I didn't eat for 24 hours, then had a small, reasonable dinner. The following day, I ate normally. I alternated fast and feed days, and within the first two weeks, I had lost 6lbs. Whoa!<br />
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I continued the alternate day protocol for a total of four weeks, at which point I was getting a little sick of it. I transitioned to fasting two days a week,<br />
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Many people have taken an interest in fasting, so I'll try to answer my most frequently asked questions:<br />
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<b>Did you read any books about fasting?</b> Of course, because I'm a tool. The best book I read was <i>The Obesity Code</i> by Canadian physician Jason Fung. If you're interested in the science of weight gain and loss, this book is must-read. I really couldn't recommend it more highly.<br />
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I also read the<i> The Fast Diet</i> by Michael Mosely and Mimi Spencer (aka 'the 5:2 diet.') Mosley is a non-practicing English doctor who presents health-related documentaries for the BBC. The Fast Diet is basically what I'm doing now, though I don't strictly monitor my calories as they dictate. More on that later, but it's a good book that is easily readable.<br />
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Probably my least favorite book is <i>The Every Other Day Diet</i> by Krista Varady. She's a PhD nutritionist who has done numerous studies on fasting. Her schtick is eat 500 calories a day every other day, then eat normally on the feed days. Much of her research is interesting, and the 5:2 diet was influenced in part by Varady's work. It might be worth a read if you get it from the library, but the writing is terrible and she advocates a lot of processed frankenfoods. Yuck. I get that they're easier for the sake of compliance, but Lean Cuisine is gross and I have a hard time with a nutritionist advocating the consumption of frozen dinners with any regularity.<br />
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<b>Is fasting hard?</b> At first, yes. The first two weeks in particular were hard. At times, I was tempted to throw in the towel and tuck into a can of Pringles. If I hadn't been seeing such great results, I might have bailed. But I'm so glad I didn't! I'm actually pretty used to fasting now. I'm fasting today, and while I do feel a bit hungry right now, it's totally manageable.<br />
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<b>How do you get through the hunger?</b> The interesting thing about hunger is that it goes away. Seriously, it does. I find if I keep busy, out of the kitchen and I don't watch <i>The Great British Bake-off</i>, I'm fine. On fast days, I do things that keep me out of the kitchen. I run errands, work in the garden, clean out closets, whatever. Just stay out of the kitchen.<br />
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For me, the hardest time is the afternoon. I breeze through the morning. I'm seldom hungry for breakfast anyway, so mornings are easy.<br />
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<b>What does a typical day look like?</b> It sort of depends. Some days I will start my fast after lunch. I just won't eat dinner. Then I'll break the fast at lunch the following day. Usually, I'll go dinner to dinner. I do have coffee in the morning with heavy cream. Since heavy cream is just fat (no protein or carbs) it doesn't stimulate insulin as do other foods. Hard-core fasters would tell me I shouldn't even have that, but coffee is a non-negotiable for me, and it keeps me in the game. If I couldn't have creamy coffee, I would be a beast and I would hate life and everyone would hate me, so for the sake of world peace, I have the coffee.<br />
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Then I just don't eat. For the rest of the day, until dinner, at which time I will eat something whole, real and reasonable. Tonight I'm planning on a green salad with steak and a mustard vinaigrette. Ok, now I'm hungry. Let's move on.<br />
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<b>Do you exercise on a fast day?</b> Yes (you knew I was going to say that.) At first, I was doing a short, HIIT-type workout. I was afraid doing anything longer would make me ravenous, but now I just do whatever I want on a given day. (I'm trending towards shorter workouts anyway, but that's for another post.) Today I did a 30-minute Physique 57 video, and I felt great.<br />
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<b>Are you really strict with it?</b> NO. I'm really not strict at all. The 5:2 and Every Other Day diets say you should restrict your fast-breaking meal to 500 calories, but I don't bother. It's not that I hoover everything in sight (though I might have done that once or twice.) I just really, really hate weighing, measuring and tracking my calories. It feels really obsessive to me, and it makes me crazy, so I don't do it. I just stick to whole, real and reasonable. It might be under 500 calories, it might be over. I don't know and I don't care. What I'm doing seems to be working for me.<br />
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On non-fast days, I eat whatever. I might have breakfast, I might not. I might have ice cream, I might not. I really just eat normally, which for me is whole, real food with occasional treats. I am not very restrictive on those days, and I've still lost weight. I know some people still have to be fairly strict on non-fast days, but I just won't do it. To me, life is too short to be strict all the time! I'm still a few pounds over what I used to be, but it's ok. If I don't lose any more, that's fine.<br />
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<b>As for Christians fasting, is it commanded? </b>No! You don't have to do it, and I'd say most modern Christians probably never have. But I find there is great blessing to this and other spiritual disciplines. I find my mind does turn to other, deeper things on fast days. I do reflect more on the plight of the poor and others for whom hunger is not optional. I approach my fast-breaking with a more grateful heart than I normally have. It is not a burdensome requirement, but I wonder... in our post-Reformation fervor to avoid legalism, are we missing something very precious when we jettison these old practises? I think we do. The traditional disciplines are good for both body and soul.<br />
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I do hope this is helpful for some of you. If you have other questions, please post a comment below! I'll write a follow-up if there is interest.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-29402137114020976582016-08-24T11:30:00.000-04:002016-08-24T11:30:01.440-04:00Nine Tips to Reduce Food WasteThis summer, the bigger little and I have been studying World War II together. He's all jazzed about the tanks, battles and bombs, and I, of course, am fascinated by... the food. While he maps out his tactical maneuvers, I'm reading about ration books and victory gardens.<br />
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Food scarcity was a big thing during World War II. Britain, for example, imported a whopping SIXTY PERCENT of it's food in the 1930's. The looming threat of war, with it's inevitable shipping blockades and shortages, meant the British government had to scramble to provide sustenance to it's nearly 48 million inhabitants. Flower gardens were turned over to vegetables, every patch of available land was plowed for cereal crops, and Women's Institute members relieved countryside bushes of their berries and fashioned them into jam. Rationing was immediately enacted and persisted until 1952.<br />
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Food waste was curbed dramatically. Any remaining scraps that couldn't be eaten were composted, or thrown in the scrap bin to be fed to pigs. Wasting food became a crime. Literally. In August 1940, wasting food became a prisonable offense.<br />
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Rationing and shortages existed in America, too, but since we are a significantly larger country with a far more varied landscape and climate, conditions were not so desperate here. Oh yeah, and we didn't have bombs raining on us every night. That helped, too.<br />
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Fast forward seventy years, and we have lost all sense of wartime thrift. Watch this (FYI, there are some bad words):<br />
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Whoa. FORTY PERCENT. We're wasting forty percent of the food produced in this country. This hurts my heart.<br />
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This is insane, especially when you consider one of the big justifications for GMOs and increased pesticide use is 'the need to feed our growing population.' We're told tinkering with plants will make them more drought-resistant and enable farmers to grow more food on less land. Well, that <i>sounds </i>just super, but how about we start by actually EATING the food we're growing now??? Does it strike anyone else as utterly ridiculous to spend millions of dollars developing frankenplants that use less water, while we use MORE water to grow plants that get thrown away? Anyone? Beuller?<br />
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Then there is the complicity of our own government in this. My friend Dietitian Deb, whom you may remember from the chocolate milk post, sent me<a href="http://reason.com/archives/2016/08/06/dumped-cherries-a-reminder-of-awfulness"> this article</a> about millions of beautiful cherries sacrificed for the sake of 'market regulation.' Insane.<br />
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<b>What can we do about this?</b><br />
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On the grand scale, I don't entirely know. I'll work on that, but I do know there is plenty we can do at home. <b>We can make a concerted effort to eat whatever food we bring into the house. </b>I don't want to sound braggy or anything, but I've got our food situation down to <i>almost </i>no waste. Here's how we do it:<br />
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1. <b>Clean out the refrigerator every week.</b> Years ago, I happened upon a blog that had a weekly feature called 'food waste Friday.' The blogger cleaned out the fridge every Friday and posted a picture of whatever she had to throw away. The idea was to hold herself accountable to waste less food. It's a good practice and it inspired me to do the same. I actually peruse the fridge every couple of days to see what needs using up, then do a weekly clean-out to make sure nothing has fallen through the cracks. It only takes a few minutes!<br />
<br />
2. <b>Simplify your cooking</b>. I read that all the great chefs of the early twentieth century had specialities--only about 10-12 dishes they would simply cook in rotation. In the past, I've done a lot of experimenting with cooking and making different recipes, and I've ended up with cupboards full of obscure ingredients. I'm working on using all that up and just sticking with a skeleton menu. Yup, we're becoming a 'Tuesday is spaghetti night' kind of family.<br />
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3. <b>Eat leftovers</b>. I know this seems obvious, but a lot of people don't like leftovers. I don't fully understand why. Plenty of food is actually <i>better</i>-tasting the next day, but I can appreciate sometimes you're sick of whatever you made, or it seems pointless to hold on to just a little bit of this or that. However, you can re-purpose those bits and bobs into new, exciting meals! Quesadillas, frittatas, everything-but-the-kitchen-sink chili, fried rice... they're all great ways to use up little bits of things, and you might even be able to postpone a trip to the market.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YQJksnbMZXQ/V729KnVp3GI/AAAAAAAAAuM/tQ6zJNoXYdk2vmOzeuF8t1OQwgS-za3fQCLcB/s1600/quesadilla%2Bnathan%2Bat%2Bthe%2Bbarre%2B001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YQJksnbMZXQ/V729KnVp3GI/AAAAAAAAAuM/tQ6zJNoXYdk2vmOzeuF8t1OQwgS-za3fQCLcB/s320/quesadilla%2Bnathan%2Bat%2Bthe%2Bbarre%2B001.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some random leftovers we made into quesadillas one night</td></tr>
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4. Eventually, you need to go, and when you do, <b>shop with a list--and stick to it</b>. When people don't use a list, they buy more things they don't need. A friend of mine turned me on to a great iPhone app called <i>Wunderlist</i>. It has a share function, so you can create a list and share it with your spouse, roommate, whomever, so if anyone else is going to the store, you don't end up with duplicates. You buy only what you need.<br />
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5. <b>Ignore 'best by' dates.</b> If you watched the video above, you now know that those dates are completely arbitrary. Just because something is 'expired' doesn't mean it isn't still perfectly edible. A better guide is your nose. Even if it smells 'off,' you might still be able to use it. We use soured milk in baking or pancakes, I make banana bread from over-ripe bananas. Use common sense--if meat smells rotten, well, don't eat that. But fruit with a little bit of fuzz? Just cut off the fuzzy part and eat it. It's fine.<br />
<br />
6. <b>See if you can use things you didn't think you could</b>--like bones. We save bones from meat, for example. I collect them in a bag in the freezer and when I have enough, I make bone broth. I never buy broth anymore. It's healthier, it's easy, and it's basically free.<br />
<br />
7. <b>Preserve what you can</b>. Greens can be chopped and frozen, herbs can be dried or preserved in ice cube trays, lots of things can be canned. That's a bit of a process, but I'm learning. I had a tutorial from my friend Kelli last year. I'm a little intimidated and afraid I'll screw it up and kill my family, but Kelli says my cans will tell me before they kill us, so that's a comfort.<br />
<br />
8. Let things rot--on purpose. <b>Fermenting food</b> is a great way to extend it's fridge/shelf life AND improve it's nutrient profile. Foods actually become <i>more </i>nutritious when you ferment them. Pickles and sauerkraut will last for weeks in the refrigerator, buying you more time to use them up!<br />
<br />
9. Lastly, <b>compost</b>. Fruit and vegetable peels, corn husks, coffee grounds, grass clippings.... they can all be tossed together in a compost bin (either purchased or of your own making) and over time, they will become beautiful, nutrient-rich soil for plants. Do I compost? Umm, not yet, but I'm working on it. Our town sells bins at a reduced rate to residents, so I'm planning to get one soon and get started.<br />
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One of the best parts of not wasting food is the money you save! We pre-pay for our weekly farm share box, and we buy half a grass-fed cow every year, but apart from that, I spend $50-$75 a week on groceries. That includes lunches I pack for my husband and small people. That's milk, cheese, baking supplies, fish, chicken, tortillas, grains like rice and oats and most of our fruit (since we don't get much fruit in the farm box) for $50-$75 a week. We save a lot of money by not wasting food.<br />
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I know, I have a real bee in my bonnet (that I would put to work making honey for me, by the way) on this topic. I'm probably on the more extreme end of this issue, but whatever you can do... it helps! I don't want to be preachy, but I really, really encourage everyone to think about how we can reduce food waste. It just makes sense! (cents?! I'm slapping my own knee.)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-40213263186609906362016-08-10T07:16:00.000-04:002016-08-10T07:16:37.113-04:00Fire and Water: American Arrogance Outside the PoolLike most of the rest of the world, I'm glued to my TV in the evenings, watching the Olympics. Every two years (Winter and Summer games alternate) my bottom grows roots while I delight in the heroic physical feats of the world's best athletes. They're sweating and suffering and I'm just chillaxing away. Sometimes I foam roll while I watch, just to break up the sloth.<br />
<br />
Last night, Michael Phelps won his 20th AND 21st gold medals. The man is a machine. The 200m butterfly competition included a side dish of intense public rivalry and trash talk outside the pool. Yummy! South African Chad le Clos has been goading Phelps over this particular race. He bested Phelps in 2012 to win gold in this event. Apparently avenging this loss was part of reason Phelps came out of retirement to swim again in Rio.<br />
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For some insane reason, le Clos thought it was a good idea to stir the pot with Phelps, to rub it in that he won last time and challenge Phelps to another duel. Yes, challenge the greatest swimmer (athlete, maybe?) of all time.<br />
<br />
People, this is never a good idea. Michael Phelps is an amazing physical specimen. I'm sure he trains very hard to be as good as he is, but he is also genetically gifted. His wing span is ridiculous. He is a machine.<br />
<br />
But sports at this level is not just about the body, it's also about the mind, and Phelps is all about the mind game. I remember he sat down with Bob Costas during one of his previous four Olympics and talked about how he psyches himself up before a race. He explained to Costas that he imagines slights from other athletes. Another swimmer might glance in his direction, and Phelps will take affront in his own mind and nurture the 'grievance,' for hours, days, weeks, months before the race. He will work himself up into an embittered frenzy and unleash his fury in the pool. Seriously, he said he does this. Yikes.<br />
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Phelps won last night's race decisively, earning is 20th Olympic gold medal. He relished in his victory, perched atop the lane divider, he urged the crowd to bring on the praise.<br />
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As for le Clos, he finished fourth, and NBC commentator Rowdy Gaines offered sage advice--"Don't poke the tiger." Words to live by.<br />
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Sadly, and unsurprisingly, Twitterland erupted with heaping shame and humiliation for le Clos. We Americans do many things well, but increasingly, tact, kindness and graciousness are nowhere on the list. We've always been chided as an arrogant people, and it seems to reach new heights everyday. Honestly, I fear for my country. Phelps has earned the right to be proud and maybe a little smug, but the rest of us? The armchair/foam roller athletes? No. Sorry.<br />
<br />
Of course, I'm happy for Michael Phelps, but I can't help but feel sorry for le Clos. Poor guy. He's eating a massive slice of humble pie, and apparently BOTH his parents have cancer?! Good grief. Let's all give the guy a break. I just don't have the stomach or the steely heart for great athletic feats, let alone the physical capacity.<br />
<br />
I'll just go back to my foam roller.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-42909821387680619482016-06-05T20:46:00.000-04:002016-06-05T20:47:46.562-04:00Barre Crawl: barre3 RevisitedLately, I've been taking classes at barre3.<a href="http://amomwalksintoabarre.blogspot.com/2014/10/barre-crawl-barre3.html"> I reviewed one class </a>I took there when it first opened, but I did so with some trepidation. I really don't like reviewing studios with only one class under my belt. Somehow, it doesn't seem quite fair. You need a few swigs to get a really accurate perception of a barre, and at the time I was in the tank for the Bar Method. I still really like the Bar Method, by the way. They're tops for form corrections, and the carpet... oh my. But I gave up my membership there last summer. My wonky bits were acting up too much for me to get enough use out of it, and I was ready for a change.<br />
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So color-me-happy when my local barre3 had a sale on ten class packs. Yippee! A sale on barre classes is to me what a sale on shoes is to other women.<br />
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Here are five things I'm loving about barre3:<br />
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<ol>
<li><b>I sweat</b>. This is not usually that hard for me,<a href="http://amomwalksintoabarre.blogspot.com/2013/12/how-im-spending-my-christmas-vacation.html"> as I've mentioned before. </a>I tend to be a sweat-er. But not all barre classes will get you more than misty. Barre3 is a full-on sweat. This is because b3 always includes a set of compound exercises. You're working upper and lower body together, and it's intense. </li>
<li><b>They use large range of motion exercises</b>, along with the up-an-inch-down-an-inch isometric contractions for which barre is famous. Usually, a set of tiny pulses is followed by some big movements. Honestly, this just feels good after the tiny pulses. And it gets your heart rate back up. See #1.</li>
<li><b>It's different</b>. We all know how I feel about barre. I *heart* it to the moon and back, but sometimes it's nice to do something a little different from the standard barre workout format (arms/thighs/seat/abs.) The layout of a barre3 class is not like a classic barre class. Everything is all jumbled up. You know, in a good way. Not like my kitchen gadget drawer. Anyway, moving on...</li>
<li><b>They are all about modifications</b>, and that makes my heart sing. After my year of 1000 injuries, I need modifications, and I love that I am encouraged to modify up the wazoo if I need to. Every studio I've ever been to sanctions modifications if you need them, but sometimes it feels a little less-than if you are doing them. Not at barre3. They're all over making the workout work for you. And that leads me to my fave aspect of b3....</li>
<li><b>The vibe</b>. It's very supportive, and very non-competitive. You won't hear any of that 'see if you can get one inch lower than your neighbor' nonsense. You know what? Some people could maybe get a little lower in wide-second, but maybe they shouldn't. Not everyone's body is designed to get the femur parallel to the floor. For some people, that's an injury waiting to happen. I've now taken classes with five different instructors, and they are all about making the class work for you. On that day. Even if you're normally an amazon, if you're just not feeling it that day, that's A-OK. And that, peeps, is really nice for recovering badasses like me. </li>
</ol>
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The only thing I'm not loving about barre3 is the floor. It's hard. And the mats are rigid so you can't just fold one up and stash it near your spot for when releve is hurting your bunion. But that's ok. I can work around that. barre3 is getting two thumbs up. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-64862855658644177492016-05-02T11:12:00.001-04:002016-05-02T13:03:03.772-04:00The Biggest Loser is STUPID<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cdn2-www.realitytea.com/assets/uploads/2015/09/two-celebrities-join-new-season-of-the-biggest-loser.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://cdn2-www.realitytea.com/assets/uploads/2015/09/two-celebrities-join-new-season-of-the-biggest-loser.jpg" height="310" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">image: realitytea.com</td></tr>
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I used to watch the reality show Biggest Loser from time to time. I liked watching the challenges, and I'll admit I got a little choked up at all the transformations, heart-wrenching stories, etc. I was cheesier when I was younger. <br />
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In fact, BL was on the TV in the birthing room when I had my first child. I suppose I enjoyed seeing other people grunting and not looking cute and fluffy, because Lord knows, I was not so cute and fluffy at the time.<br />
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Anyway, there were always things that bothered me about that show, and the more I learned about diet and exercise, the more I grew to despise it, and now I officially can't stand it. I can't even watch it for five minutes. If you like, me no judgey, but I'm going to tell why:<br />
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<b>I hate how they make exercise look like torture.</b> You do not need to vomit to have a good workout. You do not need to walk on treadmills for hours on end. There is almost no joy in movement communicated to the participants on that show. They seem to do the same old same old all.the.time. Why not water aerobics? Ballroom dancing? Or even... barre?! (You knew I was going to say that.) Really, there are so many different ways to move your body. I don't understand why they persist with rope slinging, kettlebell swinging and treadmilling over and over and over. Not to mention the fact that many of these activities are really tough on the joints, and when you're dealing with the morbidly obese, joint issues should be a huge consideration. Not to mention all the emphasis on processed diet food and calorie counting. It makes me crazy.<br />
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But today I read an article in the New York Times that made me hate this show even more. It's called '<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2016/05/02/health/biggest-loser-weight-loss.html?hp&action=click&pgtype=Homepage&clickSource=story-heading&module=photo-spot-region&region=top-news&WT.nav=top-news&_r=0">After <i>The Biggest Loser</i>, Their Bodies Fought to Regain Weight</a>.' The article is heartbreaking. It chronicles the punishing regimes to lose weight fast, and the regain experiences of contestants on the horrible show's season 8, nearly all of whom regained almost all the weight they rapidly lost this stupid show.<br />
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And it's not just the season 8 contestants. If you search 'where are they now' type articles, you'll find many, many, many BL contestants have regained all or most of the weight they lost. It's just that the season 8 contestants were studied by the National Institutes of Health. They found that all the contestants had significantly slower metabolisms after participating on the show. This means they now burn far fewer calories at rest than they did before. This means they MUST eat FAR fewer calories than would be expected for people their size.<br />
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Also, since they lost so much weight so rapidly on The Stupid Show, their hormones are messed up. The contestants were found to have almost no leptin, which is one of the hormones that governs the hunger response. After regaining some weight, their leptin levels increased, but not to the previous levels they had enjoyed before The Stupid Show. This means these poor people were HUNGRY ALL THE TIME. Of course they gained the weight back! Who can resist the siren song of HUNGER?<br />
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Ok, I really need to go do some laundry, but could we please just get over the number on the scale? Please? It is SO NOT THE MOST IMPORTANT THING. SO NOT. These people would have been so much better off if the emphasis had been on small, sustainable changes, like moderate, enjoyable movement. Like eating WHOLE REAL FOOD. Like focusing on other health markers, such as blood pressure, blood sugar, heck, just ENJOYING LIFE MORE.<br />
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Even this article reveals that people are still hung up on weight, even though the maniacal focus is what seems to have permanently damaged their bodies.<br />
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The only winners of The Stupid Show are Bob Harper and Jillian Michaels, who have become household names and made money hand over fist from yelling and screaming at people. It certainly wasn't the contestants, nor the millions of people who have watched this show and tried to emulate the results. Enough.<br />
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Can we please finally get this stupid show off the air?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-81553318920790712672016-04-24T15:33:00.002-04:002016-04-25T12:48:45.955-04:00Five Tips for Getting #sweatyin30When I was a child, my brothers and I loved watching <i>The Jetsons</i>. The antics of the eponymous futuristic family were highly entertaining. I distinctly remember the episode in which Mrs. Jetson had to be treated for 'button pushing disease.' Everything in her life was performed by the push of a button. We laughed uproariously! Can you imagine? Button-pushing disease! Hahahahaha!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jane Jetson doing Jack Lalane-esque finger exercises in episode 1 of<br />
The Jetsons, which first aired in September of 1962.<br />
image: smithsonianmag.com</td></tr>
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Well, here we are, fifty years later, and 'button-pushing disease' is an actual thing. It's called 'carpal-tunnel,' the repetitive stress from pushing buttons. This, coupled with the deleterious effects of simply not moving around much, have left us in sorry shape.<br />
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We now live in a world of unprecedented comfort. We can have pre-cooked food delivered to our homes with the push of a button. Vacuuming was the last vestige of moderately strenuous housework. Now you can buy a Roomba and (he? she? it?) will do it for you. This may be convenient, but it's not good for us.<br />
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Peeps, I know it is hard to carve out time for exercise, but we have to do it. We were born to move. It's essential.<br />
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We just got home from a week long visit with family. We did a lot of sitting. Sitting in the car. Sitting to visit. Sitting to eat (which we did a lot.) But we kicked off the trip with a drive-by visit to Physique 57 in New York City. As you all know, I *heart* Physique 57 and go whenever I can. I took a deliciously spicy Signature class with a delightful instructor. Later that day, Ashley Perez, another instructor I follow on Instagram, posted a picture of Jacqueline Nickelberry, long-time Physique 57 client, completing a #sweatyin30 challenge she had designed.<br />
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The goal of #sweatyin30, according to Ashley, is 'thirty minutes of exertion with a side of sweat.' That's it. No do-this-activity-on-that-day. No over-thinking it.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just do some movement for thirty minutes, everyday for thirty days, working hard enough that you're getting at least a little misty. </span></div>
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The blissful simplicity of this directive really struck a chord with me. I've been a fitness buff for a very long time. I've read countless articles on exercise and sifted through differing opinions over the years on the 'best' or 'ideal' way to get in shape. Some of that information is interesting and helpful, but it's easy to get caught in a kind of analysis paralysis. Fear of 'not doing it right,' or not doing 'enough,' can keep us from doing anything at all.<br />
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Over the past eighteen months or so, I have struggled mightily with injuries, aches and pains. Consequently, I have become significantly de-conditioned and I've put on weight. Every time I've tried to complete a rotation, I've gotten sidelined by something. Something with my body, something with the small people. And then I'd lose my momentum. It's been frustrating and discouraging.<br />
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But this idea of just 30 minutes... Anything for 30 minutes... I could do that.<br />
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<b>And so I started. That day.</b> That Physique 57 class, from which I was quite sore for several days, that was day 1. None of this 'I'll start tomorrow' nonsense.<br />
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I'm now on day 9. I've done my #sweatyin30 while traveling. I've done it after being up in the night with sick kids. I've done it on only five hours of sleep. I've done it with soreness. I'm<b> not </b>saying I've killed it and dragged it home on some of those really hard days. We've gotten this idea that exercise has to be punishing, but it doesn't! In fact, we really <i>shouldn't </i>kill it and drag it home everyday. On rough days, I've taken fairly gentle walks, I've played around in hotel pools with my kids, I've climbed stairs, I've jumped on a trampoline. The point is to do something. Anything. Just move.<br />
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And so with that verbose introduction, here are five tips I can share (you know, from the vast wisdom I have acquired in nine days of working it):<br />
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1. <b>Do it in the morning. </b>I know morning exercise doesn't work for everyone, but there is a lot to be said for doing it in the morning. (I don't necessarily mean the minute you get out of bed, just early in the day.) When you give it the first fruits of your day, it is far less likely to be crowded out by other things. I find if I wait too long, it becomes a chore--something hanging over my head that has to be done. I don't like thinking of exercise that way. I don't want it to become a chore, so I usually get it done in the morning.<br />
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2.<b> Do it with other people.</b> Personally, I like exercising alone. I'm an introvert and I enjoy the solitude, but exercising with other people has some distinct advantages. It can be more fun, motivating, and it holds you accountable. It's also efficient--catching up with friend, check! Workout--check! All at the same time.<br />
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3. <b>Tell people about it!</b> I committed to my #sweatyin30 on Instagram by commenting on Ashley's post. I don't even know Ashley, but I said I'd do it and that was enough to get me up and going on those rough days. There's a burgeoning #sweatyin30 community out there. Join us!<br />
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4. <b>Accept limitations, and find creative ways to work around them.</b> We all have limitations. Some are physical, some financial, and all of us are constrained by 24 hours in the day. I know if I wait for all the planets to be properly aligned, I'll never do it. This is my life and I have to work with what I have. Sometimes I play tag with my kids, sometimes I dance around the kitchen for thirty minutes. I prefer a dedicated workout, but it can't always happen.<br />
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If money is tight, check out the library or YouTube for free material. On my day six, I streamed a free barre workout and did it on my parents' deck. BAM! Thirty minutes. Sweat like a mad beast. Check!<br />
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<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BEeI0IIqknd/" style="color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; text-decoration: none; word-wrap: break-word;" target="_blank">I got #sweatyin30 day 6 done with a free #barre workout I found on YouTube! Whoa, sweat like a mad beast. And this is why I love barre--all you need is a sturdy surface (like my parents deck railing shown here.) It's amazing what you can get done with your own #bodyweight ! #noexcuses And now I can enjoy the blissful #postbarrelalalas</a></div>
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A photo posted by Stephanie Hsiang (@momsatthebarre) on <time datetime="2016-04-21T17:36:04+00:00" style="font-family: Arial,sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 17px;">Apr 21, 2016 at 10:36am PDT</time></div>
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5. <b>Recognize this <i>is </i>going to cost you something.</b> The Internet is rife with articles about how to do things in 'quick and easy' ways. It doesn't have to be punishing, but it might not be 'easy.' We have to get over our love affair with comfort and convenience. It's going to cost thirty minutes. It's going to cost some energy, but you'll get it back in spades.<br />
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We're not asking for blood or tears... just a little sweat.<br />
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Are you ready to get #sweatyin30?<br />
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Follow me on Instagram @momsatthebarre to see how I'm getting sweaty!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-82713533387479449452016-03-29T21:18:00.000-04:002016-04-07T07:34:27.909-04:00Should You Fire Your Maid? And Other Lessons from the Era-HouseThe older little and I have gotten hooked on the era-house reality shows that were made around the turn of this century. They typically involve a modern family (or three) 'going back in time' to simulate life in an earlier period. The first of this genre is <i>1900 House</i>. A British family moves in to a restored late-19th century London semi-detached house and copes with all the inconveniences of life in that period, including a woefully inadequate stove, far too infrequent baths and a marginally helpful mangle.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">image: wikipedia</td></tr>
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Finally, the housewife snaps under the strain of housekeeping and employs a 'maid-of-all-work,' one of the lower members of the late-Victorian/Edwardian servant class. This type of maid was, as the title implies, responsible for taking on all manner of chores, from cooking to cleaning to laundry. This freed up the housewife to pursue other interests, such as the burgeoning women's movement and other social causes of the time. She becomes so burdened by the plight of women servants (through her research, not actual interest in the woman she's hired) that she decides she can no longer square her conscience with hiring a maid, and promptly sacks the young woman.<br />
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In a letter. Because she was too chicken to do it face-to-face.<br />
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Of course, the only reason she does this is because there is only a week left on her social experiment and she really doesn't care how dirty the house gets because they're out of there. But I couldn't help but wonder.... what would have become of such a woman? (The maid, not the housewife.)<br />
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In fact, these maid-of-all-work positions were a lifeline for poor women of the period. Uneducated and ill-trained, maids-of-all-work were pretty much one job away from the gutter. For a lower-middle-class woman to let go a hardworking maid was to consign her to a miserable fate, unless she had an excellent reference and another job lined up right away. So I'm naturally thinking, 'just give her a job and treat her with dignity!'<br />
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It's very easy to get preachy when you watch these shows from your comfortable, well-heated 21st century living room, but I find that we might be in a similar position without even realizing it.<br />
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Ever since I began my household purge using the KonMari Method, I have been pitching things left and right. How wonderful! Less stuff! YAY! The first week alone, I donated over six huge bags to charity. I have less stuff, a tax deduction, and poor people... somewhere... have the blessing of all my cast-offs, right?<br />
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Well, maybe not. Right after I finished my clothing purge, I happened upon a documentary called <i>The True Cost</i>. It focuses on the abuses perpetrated by the garment industry, specifically a segment of it called 'fast fashion.' This is the low-quality, mass-produced stuff you find at Walmart, Target, H&M, Forever 21, Kohl's and the like. Fast-fashion is a huge segment of the garment industry, and it's growing rapidly. The clothes are produced in third-world countries in what are basically slave-labor conditions. The toll this takes on the workers, local economies and the planet is nothing short of staggering.<br />
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The plight of these workers was highlighted a few years ago by the fire that swept through a Bangladeshi garment factory. Unsafe working conditions resulted in the deaths of over 1,000 workers. While it may be tempting to lay the blame at the feet of the factory owners (and they deserve some of it), they are trying to compete with other factories to secure the contracts of western companies.<br />
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The movie is incredibly depressing and hard to watch. And it has, in my opinion, some problems. The filmmaker blames fast-fashion for everything from environmental destruction to farmer suicides in India. I'm not saying there isn't a link, but the scope of the film is so broad, it lessens it's impact. It's like drinking from a fire hose. After a while, you just shut down.<br />
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It's also long on problems and short on solutions. Clearly, avoiding mindlessly buying stuff from Walmart just because it's cheap is a start, but even better retailers outsource their manufacturing to these countries. I started checking labels on my kids' clothes, and my son's L.L. Bean sweatshirt was made in Cambodia, one of the places garment workers have clashed with police over wage disputes.<br />
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I remember when I first read 'made in Bangladesh' on a clothing label. I felt really glad. Knowing what a poor country it is, I thought how great that my t-shirt is providing a job for someone in Bangladesh! Awesome! It was the same feeling I had when I'd donate clothing, but as the film reveals, many western clothing donations end up in landfills, and these donations have gravely affected the local economies of the countries to which they are sent.<br />
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So what are the answers? How do we help with this?<br />
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One thing I know I can do is to...<br />
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<b>Stop buying cheap clothes.</b> I am very sympathetic to the fast-fashion buyer who is cash-strapped and just needs something to wear, especially the parent who is trying to keep her kids in clothes that fit. The siren song of cheap is very alluring, particularly when it comes to children who outgrow things in a hurry. But even then, I find the cheap stuff doesn't last. I discovered holes in the knees of both my littles the other day. I'm resolving to buy better quality clothes. The L.L. Bean knees remain intact (even if they are made in Cambodia), while the pants from Target have to be patched before they can even make it down to the little darling. It's not cheap if I have to replace it for the younger child. I'm better off in every way if I just buy the good stuff the first time around.<br />
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Another is to...<br />
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<b>Fix things!</b><br />
A maxim of World War 2 Britain was 'make do and mend.' Fabric was in short supply during the war, and housewives were tutored by a fictional character called Mrs. Sew-and-Sew. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://paperdressvintage.co.uk/vintage/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/mrs-sew-587x600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://paperdressvintage.co.uk/vintage/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/mrs-sew-587x600.jpg" height="320" width="313" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">image: paperdressvintage.co.uk</td></tr>
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She provided lessons in how to extend the life of garments and other textiles, lessons which were sorely needed. Food, clothing and household supplies were rationed into the early 1950's. Patching and mending are easy and inexpensive ways to breathe new or longer life into clothes. Recently we had a pair of torn trousers fashioned into shorts for my husband by a local seamstress. The fact that we supported a local business was a bonus.<br />
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<b>Stop Shopping for Recreation</b>.<br />
Really. Shop when we need things, not just to 'see what's on sale.'<br />
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<b>Share.</b><br />
We've been immeasurably blessed by hand-me-downs, and we love passing them on when we're done with them.<br />
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But as for the Bangladeshi worker, I don't know the long-term answers. I don't know what regular people like me can really do to make an impact on this lamentable situation. Yes, I can refuse to buy clothes with the 'made in Bangladesh' label, but am I really helping the garment worker there who has to leave her children with relatives so she can work for starvation wages? Or am I just making her plight worse, like the 1900 housewife firing her maid?<br />
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What I do know is the gluttonous consumption of the west is not helping them, and really, it's not helping us. We're drowning in things. We're not happier with more things. In every single one of these era house reality shows, the participants say they are changed. That they now enjoy having less. They acknowledge how overwhelmed we are with things. A boy in the series <i>Frontier House</i>, emphasized how he enjoys having fewer toys after his experience, and the children in <i>1940s House</i> (the best of the genre, I'd say) returned home with no interest in their PlayStation. They were more entertained by a homemade board game.</div>
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We've been deceived into believing that more is always better, and it isn't true. Often, more is just... more.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-33221661983156735532016-02-13T18:10:00.002-05:002016-02-13T18:18:03.416-05:00How to De-Stress Your Socks: The KonMari Method<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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About a year ago, I first heard of the KonMari Method of home organizing. It's the brainchild of Marie Kondo, a very successful Japanese organizing consultant. Kondo's first book, <i>The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up</i>, was published in 2014 and has become an international best-seller. Kondo and her method have gotten a lot of press, mostly because Kondo's ideology is.... well, a little different.<br />
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You see, the KonMari Method runs pretty contrary to most standard home organizing advice. Rather than tackling your home room-by-room, or chipping away at it little-by-little, Kondo wants you to wage war. Instead of endorsing complicated organizing systems for your stuff, she wants you to start with a purge.<br />
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Lots of people suggest you declutter, but Kondo employs a completely revolutionary criterion: joy.<br />
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Joy? Seriously? What does joy have to do with my socks? Or my potato peeler? Of course, it's 20 degrees out, so my Smartwool does make me pretty happy, but I still can't say I'm giddy about it. The whole thing just seemed waaaay too touchy-feely. Plus, the method calls for doing everything in one fell swoop. You're supposed to dump all your clothes out on the floor--all at once--and assess whether or not they 'spark joy.' This is not something you can knock out during nap time. (Obviously, Kondo didn't have little kids when she wrote this book.)<br />
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Still the most controversial aspect of the book was the talking. Kondo says you should talk to your stuff. Oh my word. Or no words. No words for my stuff.<br />
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So I dismissed the KonMari method as 'not for me.'<br />
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Fast-forward a year and my recent epiphany that I want to throw out all our stuff and move my family to an ashram, and I decide to give the KonMari method a read. I really shouldn't judge a book by what I read about it on Facebook, after all.<br />
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She begins by telling us her recidivism rate is basically zero. Apparently scads of Japanese people have taken her course, but no one needs to take it again. Her approach, which has been cultivated from her earliest OCD life experiences, is <i>that </i>effective. It completely changes your relationship to your stuff. But first, you must purge. Which she calls 'discarding.'<br />
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Yes! I'm thinking. I'm in!! Let's discard!! Yay! She encourages us to start with clothing. If that's too overwhelming, she suggests you break it down by category of clothing, starting with tops. Well, that's still too overwhelming, and I don't have a lot of time here, so I figure I'll start with socks. I hadn't gotten to the sock part of the book yet, but there is only one drawer of socks. I should be able to knock that out before <i>Bob the Builder</i> is over. Can we build it? Yes! We can!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 'before'</td></tr>
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The Darling Husband is packing for a business trip. He's watching me dump all the balled-up socks, packaged stockings and other flotsam and jetsam out onto the bed.<br />
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Then I start reading to him. About socks. She says, "Let me state here and now: <b>Never, ever tie up your stockings. Never, ever ball up your socks</b>."<br />
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She goes on:<br />
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"Look at [your socks] carefully. This should be a time for them to rest. Do you really think they can get any rest like that?</blockquote>
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That's right. The socks and stockings stored in your drawer are essentially on holiday. They take a brutal beating in their daily work, trapped between your foot and your shoe, enduring pressure and friction to protect your precious feet. The time they spend in your drawer this their only chance to rest. But if they are folded over, balled up, or tied, they are always in a state of tension, their fabric stretched and their elastic pulled. They roll about and bump into each other every time the drawer is opened and closed. Any socks and stockings unfortunate enough to get pushed to the back of the drawer are often forgotten for so long that their elastic stretches beyond recovery. When the owner finally discovers them and puts them on, it will be too late and they will be relegated to the garbage. What treatment can be worse than this?"</blockquote>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We felt the socks needed a session... you know, from all the stress</td></tr>
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At this point the Darling Husband has picked his chin up off the floor and is now doubled over laughing. He thinks Marie is looney tunes.<br />
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<b>As Long as They Don't Talk Back...</b><br />
The anthropomorphism makes KonMari a tough sell for many, especially considering the socks are just the tip of the iceberg. By the end she has you greeting your house when you come home from work and thanking all your stuff for serving you. She empties her handbag at the end of the day, you know, because it needs a break from schlepping her stuff around. She thanks it for having done such a great job and tells it to have a good rest.<br />
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As cuckoo for cocoa puffs as this all sounds, I actually don't mind it. Kondo practices the Shinto religion. In fact, she was an attendant maiden in a Shinto shrine for five years, so 'Shinto' is not just a box she checks on forms. Shintoism teaches that objects have a <i>kama</i>, or spirit. So talking to her things is just taking this belief system to it's logical conclusion. If that sounds off to you, I'd suggest taking it up with Shintoism, not just writing Kondo off as crazy. For her, it's an authentic expression of her beliefs.<br />
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For Japanese people, this concept of <i>kama </i>is understood, even if it is not necessarily believed by everyone. Since Shinto has been a dominant religion in Japan, it has influenced the culture and so Kondo's message is not as strange to them as it may be to us. I wondered how much harder it might be for people to 'discard' things they believe to have feelings and a soul. Turns out, anthropomorphizing objects is a common trait among hoarders in the West, but not so much in the East.<br />
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For me to talk to my possessions would be inauthentic and a violation of my beliefs. So no chitchat between me and the socks. I do appreciate the idea of gratitude that permeates the KonMari Method, but I'll be thanking the Giver of the things, not the things themselves.<br />
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<b>And so, back to the socks.</b><br />
Which ones spark JOY?! Well, my barre socks. Joy joy joy joy, down to my feet! Smartwool, fer shur. I mean, as joyful as I can get about socks. I kept a few fuzzy ones I wear in the evenings with my Fuzzy Blue Robe, which is the greatest joy sparking item in my wardrobe. Fuzzy Blue Robe means the SMALL PEOPLE ARE IN BED, baby!<br />
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However, the sock discarding starts to get hard when I come to the six pairs of stockings I still have in their packages. (Leaving the tags on/stockings in packaging is a big no-no with Kondo. After all, how would YOU feel if you were left in a box??) Stockings do not spark joy. Maybe if I had lived through World War 2 rationing and had to draw a seam up the back of my legs while rolling bandages for the Red Cross I would feel joy at the sight of brand-new stockings in the box, but no, not so much.<br />
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In fact, I don't even wear stockings anymore. No one does. That's why I was able to score them dirt-cheap. I figured some day I might use them, but I think I bought them ten years ago and I still haven't. Even so, I'm having trouble putting them in the donation box. Brand new stockings remind me of a time when I was poor, living in New York City making a pittance. I carried a bottle of clear nail polish in my heavily burdened handbag to stop runs because I couldn't afford new ones (cue stirring music.) How could I possibly 'discard' perfectly good stockings?! I got so stressed out over the dumb stockings that I had to take a break and do a <i>Physique 57 </i>video.<br />
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Finally I returned to my job and finished my sock drawer. I folded all my socks into little rectangles as Kondo recommends. See?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ok so it's sideways, but you get the point</td></tr>
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Now I can see all my sock options when I open the drawer! They're all just hanging out, chillaxing in there. It's nice.<br />
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Later in the week I moved on to the rest of my clothes, and I must say, I'm loving it. I gave away six huge bags of clothes and shoes. I kept only the things I really like and actually wear. I'm not a huge clothing person so I had to branch out a little from outright joy. I mean, I need more than just barre socks, my wedding dress and the Fuzzy Blue Robe, you know?<br />
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It is interesting how tied we become to our possessions. I was surprised by how many memories I had attached to my clothes. Some I might have kept, but one of Kondo's directives is to<b> think of the person you are becoming, not the person you were.</b> Clothes that no longer fit or remind me of high school are not going to help with that. Kondo has a very guilt-free way of looking at these things. She says not everything is meant to be worn to the point that it's threadbare. Some things served you for a time, but they don't anymore. Better to let them go than to keep hanging on in your closet.<br />
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The delightful part, now that I'm through all the hand-wringing over the stockings, is now I have plenty of space in my closet and drawers. In fact, I was even able to move some things that I had squirreled away in other parts of my house into my closet. And still, I have extra room! Delight!<br />
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And so, yes, I'll admit....<br />
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I'm a konvert.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(pssst... I kept the stockings.)</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-83311849738439039002016-01-27T20:11:00.001-05:002016-01-27T20:11:13.081-05:00Lose the Stuff, Find the PeopleLike many people in the Boston area, I live in an older home. By 'older' I mean we don't have walk-in closets, a dedicated mudroom or a custom built-in study area for our children like you'll see in fancy new construction. <div>
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Our house was built in the 1930's. The original house consisted of a living room, small kitchen and dining room, two bedrooms, a bathroom and a screened-in porch. One of the bedrooms is a good size, but the other is pretty small. <div>
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Over the years, different owners have made modifications to the house. The footprint hasn't changed, but the attic space was enlarged to accommodate two more bedrooms, a bathroom and a small sitting room, so it is not an uncomfortable size for our family of four. </div>
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Still, I love peeking in the downstairs bedroom closets. The larger room we use for guests, and this is the closet:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As you see, I'm using it mostly for pillow storage (which is ridiculous, I know. How many pillows do we need?!) But when I consider the fact that this little closet stored ALL the hanging garments belonging to a married couple, it blows my mind. I am no clothes horse, but you couldn't fit my workout-wear alone in this little number. I'm guessing Mrs. Originalowner must have had three dresses--two she rotated during the week and a nice one for Sundays. </div>
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I've been trucking along little by little in the <i>A Bowl Full of Lemons</i> 14-week organizational challenge, and I've made some nice progress. I found a great way to organize our deep freezer, which is such a relief. It's too cold to be digging around in that thing trying to find the bacon. And I finally figured out a way to keep our food containers tidy.</div>
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But the more I 'organize,' the more I realize a key thing: we have too much stuff. The reason organizing is hard is because we have too much to organize. It's not that our house is too small. It's that we have TOO MUCH STUFF. We can't even use it all. It's ridiculous. </div>
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And I know I'm not alone. The size of the average American home has nearly tripled since 1950, while the size of the average family has halved. Certainly, bigger homes mean some degree of increased comfort, but they also spell bigger closets, more cupboards and, at the very least, more floor space to fill. Stuff comes at a cost--not just what you spend to buy it. You have to maintain it, power it and store it, not to mention the relational cost. </div>
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A <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5525283">2006 story about big houses on NPR</a> notes the following: </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 1.70588;">"The big house represents the atomizing of the American family," says [</span><span style="line-height: 46.3999px;">John Stilgoe, a professor of landscape history at Harvard University</span><span style="line-height: 1.70588;">.] </span><span style="line-height: 1.70588;">"Each person not only has his or her own television — each person has his or her own bathroom. Some of these houses are literally designed with three playrooms for two children. This way, the family members rarely have to interact. And the notion of compromise is simply out one of the very many windows these houses sport."</span></span></div>
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Recently I came to the painful realization that a <i>significant </i>amount of my time is spent managing our possessions. I spend a lot of time washing things, cleaning things, looking for things, organizing things and putting things away. I'm exhausted by it. Many days I spend more time with our stuff than I do talking to, or playing with, my children. And that, people, is sad. </div>
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I joined the <i>A Bowl Full of Lemons</i> challenge group on Facebook for a little inspiration and motivation. There are lots of pictures of clean, beautiful, organized spaces, and more than a few posts lamenting the perceived deficiencies of the posters' homes. But today, I read my favorite. A woman posted a picture of her darling little nugget holding a half-eaten cookie. She wrote,<span style="font-family: inherit;"> "<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">I am really starting to notice that I have more time in my day now that I'm not always shuffling around my clutter. Now that my kitchen, pantry, and dining area are clean and clutter-free I finally had the time and patience to let my 2 year old help bake cookies with me today."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.32px;">I can tell you from vast and painful experience that a tremendous amount of patience is required to bake with a two-year-old. And yet this mother found it... when she lost the stuff. Hurrah!</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-50712151379563048482016-01-16T08:32:00.001-05:002016-01-16T08:32:29.722-05:00Organizing the YUM!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I know I said last time I wasn't going to talk about food for a while, but the first stop on the <i><a href="http://www.abowlfulloflemons.net/">Bowl Full of Lemons</a></i> organization challenge is the kitchen, so it's a little tough to <i>not </i>talk about food. Actually, week one is the kitchen, week two is the pantry, but I don't really have a dedicated pantry. So I'm combining weeks one and two.<br />
<br />
This week I organized my food. See?<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cZy897AkQ7A/VppDHl91sEI/AAAAAAAAAqw/WW8lQ9YQVN0/s1600/IMG_0125%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cZy897AkQ7A/VppDHl91sEI/AAAAAAAAAqw/WW8lQ9YQVN0/s320/IMG_0125%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laundry room/pantry/mudroom combo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rSZ8jPwuPXQ/VppCSs8DpQI/AAAAAAAAAqE/eYqnDMYv1IM/s1600/IMG_0123%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rSZ8jPwuPXQ/VppCSs8DpQI/AAAAAAAAAqE/eYqnDMYv1IM/s320/IMG_0123%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can see the paleo thing didn't take--a whole shelf of grains and beans!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kXK_VFzrU6o/VppCcEgpzRI/AAAAAAAAAqM/xsViZ14kSRE/s1600/IMG_0124%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kXK_VFzrU6o/VppCcEgpzRI/AAAAAAAAAqM/xsViZ14kSRE/s320/IMG_0124%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baking items grouped together</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O8fTaGJ8_3E/VppCnEkz8UI/AAAAAAAAAqU/DE_YuJFA1z0/s1600/IMG_0121%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O8fTaGJ8_3E/VppCnEkz8UI/AAAAAAAAAqU/DE_YuJFA1z0/s320/IMG_0121%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fridge</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eHamTlqfNTA/VppCw3qn9jI/AAAAAAAAAqc/Qeu8NWf31MI/s1600/IMG_0122%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eHamTlqfNTA/VppCw3qn9jI/AAAAAAAAAqc/Qeu8NWf31MI/s320/IMG_0122%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This wasn't too difficult for me because I always clean out my fridge. I believe in regular management of the refrigerator because I *hate* to waste food. Every few days I'll poke around and look for things that need to be used up. I very rarely have to throw anything out. Any amount of leftovers that can't be used in school lunches is re-purposed into quesadilla or frittata fillings. Last night we had sausage, peppers, onions, greens and broccoli for dinner. Usually we polish off the whole pan, but on this occasion there was about a half-cup left, so this morning I put it in a frittata. Yum, easy, no waste.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wvovswGbWc4/VppD0QKPeCI/AAAAAAAAArE/TPVQTIIXtLI/s1600/IMG_0120%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wvovswGbWc4/VppD0QKPeCI/AAAAAAAAArE/TPVQTIIXtLI/s320/IMG_0120%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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However, one item did get the old heave-ho. Over the years I have acquired some odd ingredients that were called for in recipes. Some have become staples, some have been tolerated until they were used up, but every once in a while I purchase a read dud, and one of these was....<br />
<br />
Cocoa Nibs<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-85KkGfWgDNc/VppBdLqbrbI/AAAAAAAAAqA/a7RuBMMIgvs/s1600/IMG_0131%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-85KkGfWgDNc/VppBdLqbrbI/AAAAAAAAAqA/a7RuBMMIgvs/s320/IMG_0131%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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According to the box, which claims 'yummy super food' status, cocoa nibs are, "cocoa beans that have been separated from their shell and roasted to perfection." Apparently they are "naturally rich in vitamins and minerals, and a great source of antioxidants."<br />
<br />
They're also utterly revolting. And I'm saying this as a chocolate lover. Not yummy in the least and very hard -- as in, break-your-teeth kind of hard. They were also insanely expensive, so I kept trying to use them, but they ruined everything I put them in. I kept holding on to them, mostly because they were expensive. I'd offer them up for any local who wants them (a long list, I'm sure, after my glowing recommendation,) but they're 'best by' date was January 2015. They were looking past their prime, so today I decided to let them go.<br />
<br />
<b>And I'm publicly vowing not the buy anything crazy for another recipe ever again. Amen.</b><br />
<br />
Speaking of buying, I know I said I was going to try not to buy anything, but I realized I needed a better means of can storage in my two pantry-like shelves in the basement. Stacking the cans was not working, so I went to The Container Store and bought this very nice little wire rack.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-04yw9X-INBc/VppDWt4XdeI/AAAAAAAAAq4/E0JASx3MQXg/s1600/IMG_0126%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-04yw9X-INBc/VppDWt4XdeI/AAAAAAAAAq4/E0JASx3MQXg/s320/IMG_0126%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">$15 at The Container Store</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
A couple of years ago, we bought these pull-out<i> elfa </i>drawers for the very deep lower shelf. Although you lose some real estate this way, things kept getting lost in the back, so these were definitely a worthwhile purchase.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SCJgC0v5i9Y/VppDaw1xdiI/AAAAAAAAArA/3xXuD7dAMfQ/s1600/IMG_0127%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SCJgC0v5i9Y/VppDaw1xdiI/AAAAAAAAArA/3xXuD7dAMfQ/s320/IMG_0127%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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The real sticky wicket in my food storage world are spices. That's a whole saga that probably needs it's own post, so I'll leave you on what I'm sure are pins and needles waiting for that one.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-79437873490878957422016-01-15T12:56:00.000-05:002016-01-16T06:41:50.175-05:00When Life Hands You LemonsA couple of Advents ago, my older little asked me THE QUESTION:<br />
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"Mommy, is Santa Claus real?"<br />
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At the moment he asked this, I was in the throes of my harried Christmas preparations and was tempted to respond, "Yes. I AM SANTA! I make your Christmas happen! I make YOUR LIFE HAPPEN! If it weren't for me, you'd be eating a TV dinner on Christmas Eve with a nothing more than a Nike sock hanging on the mantle!"<br />
<br />
I didn't say that, but I wanted to. I get kind of stressed out during Advent. The blessed season when I am supposed to be reflecting on the Coming, I am more focused on figuring out what I'm going to get everyone, what we going to eat, and managing everyone's dizzying social calendar. Somehow it all seems to come together, but by Christmas Eve, I'm spent. Every January, I vow I'm going to do better, but I never seem to manage a low-stress holiday season.<br />
<br />
I think part of this is due to lack of organization. I am a somewhat naturally organized person, but since I had the small people, I've lost my way. Anyone who knows anything about small people knows you don't get chunks of time to do things. So for the past eight years, I've just been stuffing things in closets and drawers to reduce clutter, but the result of that has been... more clutter.<br />
<br />
The littler little started preschool last year, so I have tackled a few closets, but there is still plenty more to be done, and some of my 'organized' spaces are not so organized anymore. This means my system was not good, so I have decided to branch out on the blog to chronicle my home organizational projects. I'll still talk about exercise from time to time, but I'm kind of done with talking about food, and I think you are all kind of done with me talking about food, too.<br />
<br />
<b>When life hands you lemons...</b><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vfp6bPAQftQ/Vpkxsok4uuI/AAAAAAAAApo/VoA6T0caG7I/s1600/IMG_0117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vfp6bPAQftQ/Vpkxsok4uuI/AAAAAAAAApo/VoA6T0caG7I/s320/IMG_0117.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">... and limes... and an orange...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I've decided to do a modified version of the 14-week Home Organization 101 challenge that is outlined on the very orderly blog called <i><a href="http://www.abowlfulloflemons.net/">A Bowl Full of Lemons</a></i>. The Lemon Lady has also recently published a book, which you can find <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Complete-Book-Home-Organization-Projects/dp/1616289570/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1452879492&sr=1-1&keywords=a+bowl+full+of+lemons">here</a>, but I think I'm going to forgo the book because I am really trying to reduce the amount of stuff in our house. I'm also being super cheap these days. (December was a <i>very </i>expensive month.)<br />
<br />
<i>A Bowl Full of Lemons</i> is a very pretty blog, with very pretty pictures of a very pretty house. My house will never look like that. I think I will have to go off the lemon grove to some extent, because I will never be <a href="http://www.abowlfulloflemons.net/2013/06/home-organization-101-week-4-the-office-season-3.html">storing my books by color</a>. Seriously, she does that. She has a Paula Deen cookbook next to a Harry Potter book because they're both orange. I mean, it's pretty, but not super practical.<br />
<br />
<b>Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa, and I am he.</b><br />
<br />
In addition to having a lower-stress December, I also realized that the Santa question brought up a real truth that scares me a little. I DO make it all happen in my family. My darling husband earns the paycheck, does the taxes and handles car and many household repairs, but I keep pretty much everything else humming. In fact, I even file the car paperwork, organize the taxes and pay all the bills. I'm also the one who does all the shopping, the cooking, the cleaning, and anything that pertains to the children, including medical stuff. Since we have a child with disabilities, that stuff can get very complicated.<br />
<br />
I'm not saying all that to sound like a martyr, or make my husband sound like he isn't involved (because he is), only to point out that I keep all the plates spinning, and I have a lot of information in my head. What if something happened to me? If I died (!) or were incapacitated, life would be hard for my family.<br />
<br />
So, with that long-winded pre-ramble, my goals over the next 14 weeks are not just to organize, but to label everything so other people know where the spare batteries or extra laundry detergent is hiding. Also, I'm planning to make up a binder with pertinent information, especially regarding all of the little little's medical stuff. Yes, my husband or others could dig around and find what they'd need to know, but wouldn't it be nice to have it all in one place?<br />
<br />
Lastly, I'm going to try to do all of this without buying anything, or at least, not buying very much. I might even do a nice spicy rant on my love/hate relationship with The Container Store! Goody!<br />
<br />
I might not be able to do all of this in 14 weeks, but I'll try. What's more important to me is developing systems that work. Let me know if you want to join in on the 'fun'!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-15918525460228645382016-01-10T10:23:00.000-05:002016-01-10T10:23:10.277-05:00My First Trip to LuluLast Christmas, I received a lululemon gift card. (I can't believe blogger doesn't recognize that as a word. Yes, there is a red, squiggly line under it.) Of course, I said thank you very much to the giver, but I received it with mixed feelings. I know many, many women who *LOVE* lulu. I see it's little trademark all over the other women at barres all over town, but I've never gotten into it.<br />
<br />
My Darling Cousin gave me a lululemon shirt a few years ago for Christmas. She gushed effusively about it's wonderfulness, so the following Christmas I set foot for the first time into a shop with the intention of buying her a gift. I took one look at the $58 price tag on a plain t-shirt and walked out. Lulu is just too rich for my blood. I was afraid if I tried anything on I'd fall in love with it and then I'd go broke. With Physique 57 and Bar Method, I really don't need another expensive obsession. And really, how good could lululemon be?? Is it really better than all the other purveyors of high-end fitness wear? You know, the ones that are also expensive, but at least run decent sales? It just seemed highly over-rated.<br />
<br />
But lulu devotees swear by the lusciousness of their clothes. I've been promised they'll make my bottom look irresistibly cute. I've been told they will last for years and years. A dear friend was hit by a car last year while she was out running. A horrible accident that left her in the hospital and a rehab facility for weeks. Once we got over the 'oh my, thank God you're alive!' part of the story, she said, 'yeah, they had to cut off my running tights. I was pissed. They were lululemon!'<br />
<br />
And yet still, even with that most remarkable testimonial, I resisted. The little gift card sat in my wallet for exactly 380 days. Today I finally decided to do something with it.<br />
<br />
I walked into the shop and was immediately accosted by loud music. This gave me a sickening feeling of being far too old.... like this was the workout-wear equivalent of Abercrombie & Fitch and I should only be shopping here with a sullen teenager in tow. But the gift card kept whispering, 'spend me.' I reminded myself that there were plenty of women my age at the barre wearing lulu, and so, I persevered.<br />
<br />
I wouldn't mind something that would make my bottom look irresistibly cute, so I headed over to the pants. There were nice, firm plastic mannequins wearing all the different styles, which were stacked according to size--lots of 2s, 4s and 6s, a few 8s and only a handful of 10s and 12s. (It seems, <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/tony-posnanski/abercrombie-plus-size_b_4320704.html">like Abercrombie,</a> they don't want anyone bigger than that wearing their clothes.)<br />
<br />
A friendly saleswoman helped me pick out a few styles suitable for my workout of choice, then led me to the very cramped fitting room. She introduced me to the girl working that part of the floor. "This is Stephanie. She does barre."<br />
<br />
I tried on a few pairs, and meh.... for $128, these did not light me up. They were just regular workout pants. For that price, I need something to sing to me. So I dropped them off with fitting room girl and told her none of them worked for me. She said, "Is it the style? The fabric? The fit??" I replied, "Honestly, they're just really expensive and I didn't think they were anything special."<br />
<br />
Well, she asked. (Actually, I read <a href="http://www.wsj.com/articles/SB10001424052702303812904577295882632723066">an article in the Wall Street Journal</a> a few years ago that said,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Chronicle SSm', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 28px;">Lulu also trains its workers to eavesdrop, placing the clothes-folding tables on the sales floor near the fitting rooms rather than in a back room so that workers can overhear complaints." </span></blockquote>
So really, by being straight with her I was able to save her the subterfuge.<br />
<br />
After the pants fail, I perused the workout tops, t-shirts and hoodies. I liked one of the hoodies, but not for $128. They like that number, 128. They also like the number 58, which was the price of the t-shirts and workout tanks.<br />
<br />
Finally, I saw a scarf I liked. It's actually quite versatile! It has snaps and you can wear it a number of different ways, including all the way open, like a blanket. The other friendly saleswoman said, "A lot of people like this option. You can use it like a blanket on a plane!" Well, this was a nice selling feature, since jetBlue now charges you for blankets. So I settled on the scarf.<br />
<br />
I still had $27 left on my gift card, so with a little kick in from my wallet (because nothing is only $27!) I bought over-the-knee grippy-soled socks. Apparently they'll keep me warm during savasana. And now I can look like Jane Fonda. See?<br />
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<br />
And with that, I departed lululemon. I like my scarf. And my legwarmers, but I won't be rushing back. In fact, if I never go back, that will be just fine. Don't get me wrong--I'm thankful for my gift card. I fully intend to enjoy my purchases.<br />
<br />
But I stand by my original suspicion--to me, lululemon is highly over-rated. And for that I am glad. My wallet, and my children's college funds, are safe. At least, for now.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-22048000841683528912015-12-31T11:15:00.001-05:002015-12-31T11:18:05.795-05:00Sometimes We Eat Frankenfoods, and Live to Tell the TaleThere is Gatorade in my fridge.<br />
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See?<br />
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<br />
A couple of years ago<a href="http://amomwalksintoabarre.blogspot.com/2014/08/the-scam-that-is-gatorade-and-other.html"> I ranted about how gross Gatorade is</a>, and now I have it in my fridge.<br />
<br />
We don't consume Gatorade with any regularity. I stand by my rant that as a casual beverage, it's yucky, but the pediatrician told me to give it to one of the littles because he was very, very sick and they were worried about his electrolytes. I know I provided links in my Gatorade-is-gross rant for homemade electrolyte-replacement drinks, but when your precious small person is sick and you're worried and exhausted, the last thing you want to do is whip up a batch of anything, so I gave him the Gatorade.<br />
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Does this make me a hypocrite? Am I poisoning my small person? Am I losing any sleep over any of this? I'm going to go with 'no,' 'no' and 'no.'<br />
<br />
Here's the thing--I really believe it's what we do MOST of the time that matters, not what we do SOME of the time. Yes, Gatorade is full of sugar and artificial stuff, but if we only have it once in a while, I think we're going to be ok.<br />
<br />
I also had some Diet Coke when we went to see Star Wars last week. Is Diet Coke yucky? Yes. Yes, it is. I think there are a lot of problems with soda in general and diet soda in particular, but somehow slurping down half of the Darling Husband's monster cup felt sort of festive. (And he didn't mind. No. Not at all.) A Star Wars movie only comes out once every few years, at most, so I think I'll be ok.<br />
<br />
There are all kinds of crappy stuff out there. Lots of things rob our bodies of precious nutrients. But you know what? So does exercise, and pretty much no one tells you to stop doing that. But even exercise needs to be accompanied by moderation.<br />
<br />
I just wanted to tell you all about the Gatorade. I know I write about healthy stuff, but I hope I never come across as perfectionist-y about food, or exercise, or anything else. I fear that I might have from time to time, and I'm sorry if I've done anything to promote the perfect-health dogma that exists in stark contrast to the SAD (<b>S</b>tandard <b>A</b>merican <b>D</b>iet.)<br />
<br />
What really gets my knickers in a twist is when these highly processed, frankenfoods are marketed as health foods. I think the frankenfoods can be fine from time to time, but let's not pass them off as healthy while we demonize real, whole foods like butter or red meat. Let's face it: the frankenfoods are convenient, and dare I say, some are even yummy!<br />
<br />
Life happens. Little people get sick. Best laid plans go awry. A new Star Wars movie comes out. You drink a Gatorade, eat at McDonalds or schnarf down a couple of handfuls of toxic cinema popcorn.<br />
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And it's OK. It's what we do MOST of the time that matters.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-47038103062777553322015-12-09T09:02:00.001-05:002015-12-09T09:02:58.786-05:00What Christmas is All About, and It's NOT SHOES<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">enjoystyles.com</td></tr>
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One of our local radio stations is playing non-stop Christmas music. You know, the pop-y kind. The small people absolutely love it, so I've <a href="http://amomwalksintoabarre.blogspot.com/2014/10/why-all-about-bass-is-rude.html">relaxed my commercial radio ban</a> for the duration of Advent.<br />
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Today we were driving to school and on came possibly the stupidest Christmas song EVER. It's called '<a href="http://www.lyricsfreak.com/a/alabama/christmas+shoes_20167308.html">Christmas Shoes</a>.' It tells a schmaltzy story of a ragged little boy trying to fork over pennies to buy shoes for his dying mother, because he wants her to look pretty because.... wait for it.... she's DYING. She might 'meet Jesus tonight.' It's sung in this croony country singer-type voice, a la 'Butterfly Kisses.'<br />
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I know the concept of dirty, threadbare child buying a present for his dying mother is supposed to tug at my heartstrings, but it doesn't. Sweetheart, if you mommy is dying, please go be with her!!! She doesn't need shoes! I'm guessing if she might die tonight, she's not even walking around. Seriously, no need for shoes.<br />
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So I start ranting in the car a little bit.<br />
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(Just a little.)<br />
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Me: Cuteface, are you listening to the words of this song?<br />
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CF: No, not really.<br />
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Me: It's about this boy whose mommy is really not well and might go to heaven, and the little boy is spending all his money on new shoes for her. I want you to know that if I get really sick the last thing I want is new shoes. I want you to come be with me. I want you to read to me or play Uno with me. None of this spending time at shops buying me stuff I don't need, ok?<br />
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CF: Yeah, that's dumb. It's not like she can use them anyway. We're all going to be running around barefoot in heaven.<br />
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Ha! Take that, Country Crooner!<br />
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I think the reason this song set me off is this horrible American Christmas notion that we make people happy through stuff. That buying stuff is what Christmas is all about. NO. It's about God Incarnate. It's about being with our people. It's not about leaving dying mother's bedside to buy her SHOES.<br />
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I drop off the small people and pull into my driveway. Guess what's playing now? Mariah Carey--'All I want for Christmas is YOU-OOO-Baby!'<br />
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I never thought I'd say it, but Mariah Carey hit the nail on the head.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-369572923062466062015-11-27T21:28:00.000-05:002016-02-13T06:48:09.303-05:00A Guide to 'the Holidays'Recently I participated in a discussion on 'how not to go overboard on holiday indulgences.' Lots of 'tips' were bandied about, as well as differing opinions on how to regard these strange times in which we live. By 'strange' I mean we live in an age of unprecedented culinary abundance, and from late November through early January we are caught in a swoon of even more abundance. It can be a bit overwhelming, to say the least.<br />
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My little contribution to the discussion was to point out that 'the holidays' are actually not six weeks of non-stop party. There are actually relatively few 'holidays' within that time frame. I think we get into trouble (and by 'trouble' I mean having absolutely nothing that fits by January 7th) when we frolic about as if we were living in Charlie and Chocolate Factory for forty days. So, as a public service, I would like to recap what actually constitutes a 'holiday' this time of year in the good old U.S. of A.<br />
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<b>Thanksgiving:</b> fourth Thursday of November and YES!! Bingo! This is a holiday, people! Totally <i>bona fide</i>. A harvest festival. All about it. Eat, drink, and give thanks. We had a great feast yesterday. I didn't even need dinner last night. YUM!<br />
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<b>Black Friday</b>: NO. This is not a holiday. I know it's hard to believe it, since it is heralded with more fanfare than Thanksgiving, but it's true. It's a Madison Avenue manufactured event. It annoys me that it even has a name. I know you may feel like you deserve a treat because you did battle for that Darth Vader Pez dispenser and had to wait in line for an hour at Kohl's, but it's still not a holiday. You're probably hungry and tired, though, so just have leftovers from yesterday.<br />
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<b>Cyber Monday</b>: Lord, have mercy. This is even less of a holiday than Black Friday. And you don't deserve any treats because you didn't even have to walk around to do your shopping. You planted your bottom on a chair and pressed buttons. No treats. Sorry.<br />
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<b>December 1st</b>. Well, this is the first day of Advent. This is a beautiful time of reflection and thinking about Jesus being the reason for the season, etc. If it helps you to think about Jesus, then go ahead and have a square of chocolate everyday for the next twenty-four days. If it becomes a little too habit-forming, don't worry. Lent is right around the corner!<br />
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<b>December 6th</b>: This is the feast of St. Nicholas, aka 'Santa Claus.'If you grew up calling your grandfather 'Opa' then this is a big deal for you. Enjoy that orange in your shoe!<br />
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<b>December 8th:</b> Nope. No holiday. It's just Tuesday. Put down the cookie.<br />
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<b>December 6th-14th:</b> This is Hanukkah. I'm not Jewish so I'm not really clear on how much treats factor into Hanukkah, except for the <i>gelt</i>, which is chocolate shaped into coins with gold foil wrappers. Personally, I have never had chocolate coins that were worth eating. They are never made from good quality chocolate, so I'd give it a pass. I mean, if you're going to have treats, have the good stuff, right?<br />
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<b>December 14th</b>: I'm going to rant for a second:<br />
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THIS IS NOT THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS! OH MY GOOD GRIEF. Every year some marketer tries to sell us stuff--literally--for the twelve days preceding Christmas day. DON'T BUY IT. I mean, seriously--don't buy it.<br />
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Lord knows I love America as much as the next daughter of a veteran, but I really, really despise how American marketers will try to make a buying opportunity out of every cotton pickin' thing they can. In this case, it is SIMPLY WRONG. The Twelve Days of Christmas start on CHRISTMAS. They end on Twelfth Night--January 5th. I'll get to that later, but please, do not think that the 14th is a holiday because it ISN'T. It's just marketing. Grrr!<br />
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Moving on...<br />
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<b>December 24th</b>: Ding ding ding! Yes! Holiday fer shur!! Bottoms up!<br />
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<b>December 25th</b>: WHOA! HOLIDAY!!! Holy-day! Which is where the word 'holiday' comes from, you know. Eat, drink, be merry, etc.<br />
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<b>December 26th</b>: Boxing Day. If you're from a commonwealth nation, yay! Totally qualifies as a holiday. For the rest of us it means going out to buy wrapping paper at 50% off.<br />
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<b>December 26th-January 1st</b>: This is Kwanzaa. I actually didn't realize this was a multi-day event. I also didn't realize it was invented in 1966. Kind of makes me wonder, how many people actually grew up celebrating Kwanzaa? I don't know, is this is a holiday? If you are of African decent, please write and tell me what you eat. I thought Kwanzaa might have involved jumping over brooms, which sounds like a nice activity after all the eating at Christmas, but apparently that's just at weddings.<br />
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<b>December 31st</b>: New Year's Eve. Holiday. I'll be tucked in by 9.30 in my fuzzy blue robe, but if you're a fan, this definitely qualifies.<br />
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<b>January 1st</b>: New Year's Day. Win!! Enjoy a nice brunch rich in vitamin G.<br />
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<b>January 5th</b>: As previously mentioned, this is Twelfth Night. You can party it up. Definitely. Especially if you managed to find a yule log that actually burned for twelve days.<br />
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<b>January 6th</b>: The Feast of Epiphany, or Three Kings Day. This is a holiday, especially if you call your grandfather 'abuelo,' Spanish kids actually get their presents on January 6th. The Three Kings bring them. There is a traditional cake for Epiphany made in France called a 'galette des rois.' It's yummy flaky pastry with an almond paste filling. If you can find one, enjoy!<br />
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After that, the party's over. Yes, there are a lot of holidays in this brief period, but really--unless you're a Jewish Scandinavian Christian Spanish African, you're probably not hitting everything on this list. Then again, maybe you are? In which case, you are indeed an American! Just don't call December 14th the first day of Christmas, ok?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-89893177319648167282015-11-13T13:31:00.001-05:002015-11-13T15:23:52.530-05:00College is a SCAMI haven't written in a long time, for various reasons. I'll spare you all my whining and instead treat you to the spicy rantings for which I am not famous.<br />
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One of the crazy things going around the internet these days is an interview by journalist Neil Cavuto of a young woman who is agitating for this mysterious '1%' to fund college for all AND forgive student loans. This poor benighted soul believes she and her friends should be given a free ride. Honestly, the whole thing is painful to watch, because this poor girl (womyn?) comes across looking like a complete idiot. She should either, a.) not be in college at all or b.) spend a whole lot more time there to learn to develop a cogent argument.<br />
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I really feel quite sorry for her. Just like the poor fool at Yale, who is presumably reasonably smart because she got into Yale in the first place, but has absolutely no sense or emotional control. She screamed at one of her professors about Halloween costumes. Yes. Halloween costumes. I would love for her to go attend one of the groups at the little darlings' school that helps the littles determine what is a 'big problem' and what is a 'little problem.'<br />
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These events make me even more thankful that I am old enough to have done the vast majority of my young stupid stuff before the internet. These women's actions will live in perpetuity, just a click away. Lord help them!<br />
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Anyway, the point of this post is to share my deep thoughts about college. For the record, I went to college, but I'm here to say:<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I think college for the masses is a scam.</b></span></div>
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Before everyone gets their knickers in a twist, I'm not suggesting college should only be for the economic elite. Certainly, there are plenty of people from working and middle class families who have gifts and motivation to pursue career fields that require college and maybe graduate degrees. And they should go! College should be more affordable so people of all walks of life, whose gift mix suits them to professions that require that type of training, are able to pursue it.<br />
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However, not everyone fits that criteria. In fact, most don't. Plenty of kids in America today are graduating from mediocre public high schools with mediocre grades and absolutely no clue what they want to do for a living. So what do they do? They borrow pots of cash and go to college.<br />
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Some go to college and spend time taking REMEDIAL classes. Yes, people. Remedial. They're staying at the dorm, partying and screwing around, taking basic math, reading and writing. Stuff they should have learned in high school, but didn't. I don't know why they didn't learn it in the FREE and COMPULSORY k-12 American system, but they didn't and now they are PAYING through-the-nose to learn it in college. This is insane. Why are they even being accepted into college if they can't do college work? Why are the colleges not saying, 'hey, God knows we need your cash, but you're really not quite up to snuff here, so why don't you brush up on a few things and come back next year? We'll hold a place for you!' It strikes me as totally insane. And wrong.<br />
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And it's not just America. I earned my master's degree at a British university. They loved non-EU students because they could charge us more. I met a sweet Korean guy who COULD NOT SPEAK ENGLISH. Seriously, I could hardly even have a conversation with him, his English was terrible. I managed to get out of him that the University had required him to complete a six-week English immersion program in Newcastle before he started, but he still couldn't hold a conversation with an easy-to-understand American (his words, not mine.) Let alone read 16th century texts on the British Reformation... I ran into him a few months later and things were 'very bad,' he said. The whole situation made me crazy. It was WRONG to take this guy's money. Wrong.<br />
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According to <a href="http://time.com/3419263/college-tuition-costs-expensive/">this article</a> from Time magazine, part of the reason students are graduating (if they're graduating at all) with so much debt is because it's taking them longer than the traditional four years to finish. This is partly due to the remedial courses they need, and partly because THEY DON'T KNOW WHY THEY'RE THERE. They don't know what they want to study. They don't know what they want to be when they grow up. So they switch majors and need to take additional classes, or can't get into the ones they need.<br />
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I'm sorry, do students not get advisers anymore? When I was in college, I had an adviser who... you guessed it... ADVISED me. She told me what courses I needed and made sure I was on track. I had to get my course sheet signed by her. My college was pretty hands-off, but they still made me go through an adviser. Is this no longer required? Seriously, I'm asking.<br />
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We have to stop convincing people that they absolutely need college or they will live a life of misery. Yes, college graduates tend to earn more than non-graduates, but I'm betting if we teased out those statistics, we'd find the very super high earners and the minimum-wage earners probably skew the results. There are plenty of people who don't go to college and do just fine. Managers of restaurants, retail, plumbers, electricians and others who learn a valuable trade. They don't necessarily NEED college. If they want to go, great! But need? Maybe not.<br />
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We also have to get over this whole college-as-rite-of-passage thing. A friend of mine is Canadian. She's married to an American and she almost had a fit when her husband said he'd be happy to pay for room and board for their kids to go to a local school, so they could have 'the college experience.' My Canadian friend thought it absolute madness that they should pay thousands for their kids to basically drink, party and hook-up when they could live at home for free.<br />
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And sadly, I think that's what college boils down to for many. I'm not saying college shouldn't be an option for anyone who really wants to go and has the ABILITY to GET ACCEPTED, DO THE WORK, GRADUATE and GET A JOB. But we need to stop making it a requirement--be it an employment requirement or a social one--when it isn't <i>really </i>required.<br />
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I totally agree that the cost of college is insane. It just gets more insane by the year. Many of my friends are doing the college visit thing with their high school children. The stories I hear of the luxury and opulence at some of these places is unbelievable. I hear tell of 24-hour sushi bars in student centers, dorm rooms with private baths, student gyms with amenities rivaling any posh Manhattan sweat spot. The dorms are like hotels! It's crazy. And for what it's worth, the really good schools don't tend to do this stuff. They don't need to. Yale has enough screamers clawing at their doors, they don't need to fluff up their facilities.<br />
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So I think we need to ask our kids, do you really need to go to college? Is there a profession you really want to go into? What interests you? Do you even like school? Or are we just looking at college because that's what's expected? Are we willing to value work--ALL WORK that is good and honest and decent? If a high school kid really loves Snap Circuits and really wants to be an electrician rather than an electrical engineer, can't we be ok with that? Electricians can do very well. Believe me. We've had our house rewired. We <i>know</i>, you know?<br />
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Sigh... there's so much more I could say, but I need to empty the dishwasher, which is also good, honest work, by the way.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-39044921671177218522015-08-23T08:42:00.001-04:002015-08-23T08:54:48.123-04:00This Chick and her Eggs: More Thoughts on Aging <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Recently I was talking with a friend about my injuries. I have my torn rotator cuff, which I've mentioned before, but I also have something going on with my hip. I think it's to do with my psoas. It's annoying, and both force me to modify my life more than I would like. I joked with her that it's my 'mid-life crisis.'<br />
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And it's true. I'm realizing my injuries have really brought on a mid-life crisis of sorts for me. They're forcing me to recognize that my body is changing. My hair is graying, my skin is thinner. I've put on a few pounds that reasonable effort will not remove. I get a little stiff and creaky. I can no longer do some of the high-intensity exercise I enjoy, or at least, not as often. And my cycles have changed--a lot. I'm pretty certain there will be no more little darlings pattering about the house.<br />
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Some of these changes are fine. I have no particular longings for more darlings. The two I have occupy my time and affections quite thoroughly. I don't even mind the aesthetic changes... at least, not too much. And my darling husband loves me just as I am... he's a true Mark Darcy in all the best ways, and for that, I am thankful.<br />
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I do miss the workouts. I miss the daily lala fix. I don't like being stiff and creaky, and I struggle with what to do with it in my mind. Is this the 'new normal?' Or can I get back some of that youthful vitality with lifestyle changes? If it's the former, then that's fine. I could make my peace with it, but I struggle. Not knowing if improvement is even possible makes me long for it.<br />
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But a funny thing happens when I discuss it with others. When I point out to people the obvious: that I am no longer a 'young woman,' that I am firmly within the stage of 'middle age,' they often react very strongly. "You're still young! You're not middle aged!"<br />
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Seriously, I've had people say that to me. Um, yes, I am a middle-aged woman. I am no longer young. I may be '<i>younger than</i>' plenty of people, but if life expectancy has me living into my eighties, then my mid-forties puts me firmly in the <i>middle </i>of life.<br />
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Yet as a culture, we seem to be terribly uncomfortable with that truth. A young woman is vital, sexy, full of life and fecundity. A middle-aged woman... even the sound of it conjures an image of a frumpy woman past her 'prime.' We worship youth, we pursue it at great cost. The anti-aging industry is enormously profitable, and they have made it such at we deny the <b>fact </b>that youth is fleeting. The simple <b>fact </b>that we reject the reality that youth has passed reveals our ambivalence about it.<br />
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Years ago I stumbled across a very interesting and entertaining blog called<i> <a href="http://chickandeggs.com/">A Chick and Eggs</a>.</i> It was written by a woman who was trying to conceive using donor eggs. (I found it because I was facing up to the fact that at thirty-eight, I had been diagnosed with 'diminished ovarian reserves.' In short, I was running out of eggs. The doctor told me the best he could do for me was IVF with donor eggs. We were not interested in that, and happily I found out a few weeks later that I was already pregnant with Darling Son #2.)<br />
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Anyway, this blogger wrote a somewhat controversial post speculating about reproductive technologies used by celebrities. She had no inside knowledge as to how these stars had conceived their children, but based on their ages and other circumstances, she guessed who might have used donor eggs. Realistically, a 45-year-old woman bearing a child has almost certainly not used her own eggs. By our mid-forties, our chances of conceiving on our own are pretty slim. (Maybe you know someone who did, but that's not the norm.)<br />
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Many of the comments criticized the blogger for digging into these people's personal lives, that they were entitled to some measure of privacy. While that's true, the blogger held her ground. She pointed out that many celebrities have nearly unlimited funds to pursue the latest in assisted reproductive technologies, plastic surgeries and other enhancements. They live in a world where failing to avail themselves of these opportunities means career suicide, but in doing so, they promote the myth of eternal bloom and fertility. She felt they had a moral obligation to own up to the extreme measures they took to extend their youth and fecundity well past the age when it would naturally be gone.<br />
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We live in an age of possibility, and particularly for us Americans, we tend toward relentless optimism. We're told with hard work and hard cash we can extend pert freshness indefinitely. But when we try to tap into all these possibilities, we lose something... that quiet contentment that can come from just... accepting. We're all aging. Time is moving on, and with it's passing we gain some things, and lose others.<br />
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Over the last few months, I've been grieving these changes I see in myself. And I'll be honest, all the assurances I get from people that I'm still young! do not help me. <b>The more we deny this reality, the more we entomb the idea that middle-age is this terrible, terrible thing. </b>One that must be denied and battled and beaten into submission. It reminds me of a commercial I saw for face cream years ago. The woman said, 'People talk about aging gracefully. Not me! I'm going to fight it every step of the way!' Good grief. Does this strike anyone else as silly?<br />
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I can't help but think I have more important things to do than deny reality and fight the inevitable. Even though I struggle, I must say, for all the vim and vigor I had in my younger days, I realize I wouldn't go back for all the world. I was a neurotic mess at twenty-five! No, thank you. I'll keep my wit and wisdom, and leave the fast-paced burpees to the young.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-41927101847709505462015-08-17T16:05:00.000-04:002015-08-17T17:29:16.498-04:00The Myth of the Ideal DietI'm currently engaged in a most interesting discussion about the merits, or lack thereof, of animal foods with a vegan and a really-limit-your-animal-foods person on Facebook. I've never met either one of them, but they're delightful, interesting and the whole conversation is civil and respectful. So it can happen. I know we often only hear about the mud-slinging, but rational, polite discourse can occur online and I think we should shout 'hurrah!' when it does.<br />
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So hurrah!</div>
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Anyhoo, as you all know, I'm not a vegan. In fact, I recently bought half a grass-fed cow from a rancher in Maine. As a former vegetarian, I've been converted to the moo-side, but I think it's important to note that there is no one ideal diet for everyone. Our nutritional needs change, and our dietary habits shift based on a number of factors. </div>
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A few months ago, I read a most interesting book, <i>Nutrition and Physical Degeneration</i> by Dr. Weston A. Price. I know, snappy title. Sounds like a real page-turner. I'll own that it's a bit dry in spots, but the premise is fascinating. </div>
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Dr. Price was a dentist from Cleveland, Ohio. He noticed that dental health was declining in his practice with each subsequent generation. He wondered why this might be, so with his wife, Martha, he embarked on a lengthy tour of the world in the early 1930s. The Prices visited remote areas of the globe, tracking down isolated people groups to study their teeth. They started in the Swiss Alps, visiting a village that was not yet connected to the modern world by road and traveled through Europe, to arctic regions of North America, islands of the South Pacific and remote African tribes. </div>
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As you might imagine, the diets of these different people were as varied as the landscapes in which they lived. The Swiss lived on raw milk, cheese and a type of sourdough bread, the Inuits of the arctic ate only fish, meat and a little seaweed, the Masai of Africa ate meat, milk and animal blood, the South Pacific islanders ate mostly fish, fruit and vegetables, and so on. In short, the people ate what was available. Foods that were difficult to digest were prepared in ways to aid digestion. The prized cuts of meat were <i>always </i>the fattiest, particularly the organs. Our now expensive tenderloins would have often been fed to the dogs. </div>
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Instead of finding people riddled with cavities and heart disease, Dr. and Mrs. Price found the opposite. In these communities, the people who consumed their traditional foods enjoyed remarkably good dental and physical health. <b>The only ones who suffered were those who had adopted the sugary refined foods of the modern diet. </b></div>
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One picture Dr. Price took from an isolated island in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland is particularly telling:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image: nourishingourchildren.org</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.0" style="color: #141823; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.0.$end:0:$text0:0">The island had only recently been connected to the mainland via ferry service, and with the ferries came all the modern foods--refined flour, sugar</span></span><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3" style="color: #141823; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$text0:0">, jams, Crisco and tinned foods. The brother on the left worked at the ferry dock and enjoyed the modern foods. His teeth began rotting and the father said this son struggled to get out of bed in the morning. The brother on the right ate the traditional food the islanders had been eating for centuries--mostly codfish and oats, traditionally prepared. He had no dental decay and excellent health. Not a varied diet, but whole food and no 'displacing foods of modern commerce,' as Price called them.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3" style="color: #141823; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$text0:0" style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3" style="color: #141823; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$text0:0" style="background-color: white;"><b>These men are brothers. Same genes, different food. </b></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3" style="color: #141823; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$text0:0" style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3" style="color: #141823; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$text0:0" style="background-color: white;">Dr. Price found the same tragic effects in every place he visited. These 'displacing foods of modern commerce' resulted in rampant tooth decay and illness.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3" style="color: #141823; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$text0:0" style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3" style="color: #141823; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$text0:0" style="background-color: white;">As I've been discussing the meat/plant debate on Facebook, I'm struck by what a luxurious age we live in. We are no longer constrained by what is seasonal, what is available wherever we live. We can get pretty much any food, any time. This tremendous liberty is, in some respects, a blessing. I'm guessing oat-stuffed codfish gets pretty old after a while. But the dark side is navigating our way through this sea, both literal and figurative, of food options we have set before us. There is so much choice. And not all of it is to our benefit. </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3" style="color: #141823; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$text0:0" style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3" style="color: #141823; line-height: 16.0799999237061px;"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".3b.1:5:1:$replies10153642754336383_10153645783191383:0.1:2:$comment10153642754336383_10153645787131383:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$text0:0" style="background-color: white;">There are many lessons to be learned from Dr. Price's research, but one key take-away is this: a steady diet of sugar and refined foods is not good. For anyone. Apart from that, there are many, many ways of eating that can be good for us. Take your pick!</span></span></span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7373309710888796550.post-63678814621355835152015-08-03T22:00:00.000-04:002015-08-03T22:00:19.576-04:00What to do when you gain weight Over the winter I put on some weight. I truly did not notice this was occurring. Probably because I was too busy shoveling.<br />
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I discovered this most inconvenient truth sometime in late May, as I was digging out my summer clothes. Back in October, I had bought a very cute skirt with the little shorts underneath, a most convenient garment for the mother-of-small-people. Loved this thing. Very excited to wear it. Fir back in October, so assumed it would fit in May.<br />
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But it was tight. Way tight. Thanks to the Lycra contained therein, I could get it on, but it looked.... Not good. And it felt even worse. So I got on the scale and whoa.... Nearly 15lbs.<br />
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Oh dear. I try not to freak about weight. As I've mentioned before, I don't think it is the most important thing. It's a thing, but not the most important one. But the fact that all my summer clothes were tight was a most depressing development.<br />
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I started doing some detective work and discovered that part of my problem was the anti-inflammatory I was taking for my torn rotator cuff. I am not sorry I took it, but meds can absolutely affect these sorts of things. I gradually went off and and boom! Nearly 5lbs. Gone. That still leaves with 10 extra, but hey, every little bit helps.<br />
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You know what else I did?<br />
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I bought some new clothes. Not a whole wardrobe, just a couple of skirts and two capris. I honestly cannot account for those 10lbs. I eat a healthy diet and move around a lot. I'm going to explore some other things that might be contributing, but I'm not going to starve myself or engage in punishing exercise, both of which I suspect would be counter-productive anyway, but I'm also not going to walk around in too-tight clothes feeling lousy about myself.<br />
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Which leads me to my point. (I always get ther!) you know why people have muffin tops? Because their clothes don't fit. Maybe they need to cultivate some different habits, but first stop is a new pair of jeans. Because life is too short to walk around feeling like. A polish sausage in a hot dogs dress.*<br />
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*thats a good one! Hugh? Credit goes to my old roommate Amy.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06141946094101529553noreply@blogger.com3