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Apr 29, 2011

Anglophile

April 29, 2011 By

Yes, I’m watching the royal wedding this morning. Well, I’ll be recording it this morning, since work and taking Mira to preschool will be cutting into my royal TV time.

I know some people can’t wait for the wedding to be over with, but I’m giddy with excitement. Truth is, when storks were dropping off babies in the 70’s, my stork clearly read the address wrong and brought me to Ohio when I should have been delivered to some family in the British Isles.

I’ve been an anglophile for many, many years, appreciating nearly everything about the British people, culture and government. I spent a summer in London in college, and during my time there I felt more “at-home” with my surroundings than I ever have in my life. I considered skipping my flight home to pursue citizenship, but came to my senses when I realized I had no money and still no college degree yet. I left that country vowing to return again someday.

When Diana Spencer walked down the aisle to become Princess Diana? I watched it. I was proud that her first-born son, William, was born on my birthday. (Although a few years later than me.) During my time in England, I lived in a dorm in Kensington and remember playing soccer on the green just outside of Diana’s primary residence, Kensington Palace.

Many years later, when Diana was in the car accident that took her life, I watched the story unfold on CNN. I wished and prayed that she would survive, and then sobbed when they announced that she had died. I watched her funeral from start to finish, stunned that this stunningly beautiful humanitarian – a woman who used her power and influence to bring notice to those who suffered and needed help – would be taken from us so young.

And now her son is marrying his college sweetheart, and I couldn’t be happier for them. The royal family may seem like an out-of-place establishment in the modern world, but I think it still has relevance. They provide a living connection to the history and very nature of their culture. And as I’ve often joked, a monarch that is groomed from the beginning for their role in the government (even if it is a very minor role now) provides stability and continuity that I often feel is lacking in our constantly rotating parade of politicians in the United States. Prime Ministers may come and go, but they have the benefit of seeking advice from the one person who has seen the government through many changes and is well-educated on the topic.

(I don’t want to get into an argument over which government system is better or calling for a return to the feudal monarchy system – I’m just pointing out that there are some advantages to a constitutional monarchy.)

Anyway, I’m looking forward to the wedding. I can’t wait to see demonstrations of the history, ceremony and style of the British people, but even more, it’s about the pleasure of seeing the genuine happiness of two people who love each other very much making the ultimate commitment to each other.
And to get in the spirit, Mira is already practicing her royal stiff upper-lip while wearing her tiara. She’s available for any discussions of betrothal contracts with princes who like trains and can promise her lots of dresses and a pink castle.

Formal portrait of HRH Miranda of Ohio
Filed Under: memories, Mira, pop culture Tagged With:


Apr 28, 2011

Is The Night Shift Keeping Me Fat?

April 28, 2011 By

Overall I’ve been pleased with the progress I’ve made in losing weight and improving my health. But this recent plateau has forced me to look at every aspect of what I’m doing and figure out what’s holding me back.

I’m working out and pushing myself hard each week with a combination of cardio and strength training. I’m tracking my calories and remaining under my allotment each week. I’m trying to eat more vegetables, more protein, drink more water, and take my vitamins.

My sleep? Well, that’s not so great. I work an overnight shift, so when most people are happily asleep in their beds, I’m hard at work at my desk. In exchange, I sleep during the day, although that sleep is never as restful as it is at night, even with room darkening curtains. Obligations always pop up, too – always during my sleep time, of course, since the rest of the world is on a day schedule.

At night, there’s no cafeteria open to serve fresh food. Pizza is available for delivery early on, and there is one 24-hour McDonald’s. Our food is whatever we bring in to eat, which often consists of snack foods and frozen meals. My frozen meals are often low-cal choices, but when I’m tired, snacking helps wake me up.

I know there are plenty of studies linking night shift work to poor health conditions. We’re more likely to be sleep deprived, have a higher risk of heart attacks, have weaker immune systems to fight off illness, and more likely to be overweight. Just the hours of my work make it harder for me to lose weight.

Is my unusual schedule playing some part in my plateau? Possibly. But this is one factor I can’t change. While working third shift isn’t ideal, I really like my job so I have no plans to give it up.

So if I can’t change it, I’ll have to find some way to counter this disadvantage. Finding new ways to get more sleep would be nice, as well as making better choices at which snacks I choose to indulge in at work. Maybe I can even go for a walk around the building on my lunch break to squeeze in a little more exercise?

Working night shift may make it harder for me to reach my goals, but it doesn’t have to stop it entirely.

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Apr 26, 2011

Drowning

April 26, 2011 By

As a young child, I loved to swim. On more than one occasion the words “like a fish” were used in discussing my love for the water. I spent my summers at our local community pool, practicing flips and handstands in the shallow waters, and fetching pennies from the pool floor of the five-foot deep area.

I remember one time I was at a party, and the hosts happened to have a pool. All of the kids were in bathing suits, swimming and playing with various pool toys. I don’t remember the details, but at one point one of the preschoolers had thrown some plastic beach-type toys in the deep end of the pool, where they rested under ten feet of water.

I think one of them asked if I could get the toys. Or maybe I just volunteered myself, since I liked helping others and was quite confident in my swimming ability. Either way, I was the foolish kid (I couldn’t have been more than eight years old or so) going to the bottom of the pool.

Never having learned to dive properly, I stood on the edge of the pool, pinched my nose shut, and jumped in feet first, using the momentum to help me sink a few feet into the pool before orienting myself head down and kicking my legs furiously to reach the bottom. Ten feet felt a lot further than I thought it would be.

Once at the bottom, I gathered up the plastic toys, pushed off from the floor and kicked back towards the light.

If you hear my grandmother tell this story, you’d think I nearly drowned. I know I scared her pretty badly. I’m not sure how long I was down there, but it was long enough to worry the adults at the party. When she told the story years later, I laughed it off and said I had it all under control.

The truth, however? I’ve never been so close to drowning in my life as I was in the pool that day.

The deepest pool I had ever been in was eight feet of water. Ten was really pushing my limits. By the time I reached the bottom, I realized I needed to get back up quickly. But I wasn’t going to look like a failure, so I made sure to grab those toys.

As I pushed off from the floor, I could already feel my legs were weakening. Looking up, I could see the light reflecting off the top of the pool, but it felt so, so far away. How did it get so far away?

I kept kicking my legs, but my chest was on fire. My lungs were nearly collapsing in a reflexive effort to take a breath, yet I kept my nose pinched and mouth clamped shut. I was focused on getting to the surface, even though the light at the top looked a little darker and I started to feel lightheaded.

I lost the grip on my nose as my lungs forced air out and I started to panic that I wouldn’t reach the top in time. It was just as water was starting to come into my mouth that I broke the surface, spitting out the water as I gasped for air.

Clinging to the side of the pool, I weakly offered up the toys to their owners and smiled as my heart pounded. Nope, not going to look like a failure today.

I still remember some of the details of that event for a few reasons. First, I’m actually still very scared of drowning, even though I love water. And second, because I think on how many times in my life I’ve nearly (figuratively) drowned because I didn’t want to look like a failure.

Taking on too much is commonplace for me. Like Ado Annie from the musical Oklahoma, I “cain’t say no.” I never want to miss an opportunity, and I never want anyone to think less of me, so I will often agree to do far more than I’m capable of. Problem is, I then find myself at the bottom of that ten-foot pool, wondering how I’ll make it to the top without running out of air.

I look around at other working mothers and wonder how they do it, only to realize that either they’re better at saying ‘no’ to all of the requests on their time, or they’re smiling on the outside while panicking on the inside, just like me. Only they make it look far easier than I do.

One day I hope I can come to terms with the reality that I’m not superwoman, I can’t do it all, and occasionally I do fail miserably. That sometimes you don’t have to be the hero: you can instead hang out in the shallow end sipping a martini while your kids splash around you and let someone better suited to the job  – someone who has practically no chance of drowning – dive to the bottom of the pool.

Filed Under: me me me, memories


Apr 25, 2011

I’m A Guest Writer at Diets In Review!

April 25, 2011 By

Hey everyone, I’m branching out a little and sharing what fitness and health knowledge I’ve picked up with an even larger audience. Shocking, right? Despite still being overweight, I have learned a few things about losing weight and getting healthy through the years, even beyond my nursing degree.

So when Carmen from DietsInReview.com (you may also know her as Mom to the Screaming Masses) asked if I’d like to write up a little guest post, of course I couldn’t say no!

(No really, I couldn’t say no to her. Have you seen what she does to stay in shape? Muay Thai. No way I’d refuse an offer from someone who looks that amazing. She could take me down blindfolded and with one arm tied behind her back.)

So if you have a moment, do me a favor and go check out my article on reasons to consider joining a group fitness class. It’ll make me feel all warm and fuzzy that people wanted to read my article, and maybe they’ll ask me to write another.

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Apr 21, 2011

Spring Break is Breaking Me

April 21, 2011 By

I remember when I was in high school and saw a report on the news about the concept of year-round schooling instead of the traditional school year with a long summer break. I was horrified at the idea of having to go to school all year long! I needed that long break from the classroom. Winter break hardly was long enough. Even that one little week of spring break felt like an insult to me.

And now, as a parent with two young children on spring break? Year round school sounds pretty sweet to me. In fact, let’s get rid of spring break, too.

We’re only halfway through spring break and I’m ready to send them back. It doesn’t help that I work an overnight shift, requiring me to either find a babysitter or remain on the couch in a sleepy, hazy fog as I let them destroy the living room and watch far too many episodes of Go, Diego, Go while I try to nap in-between arguments over who gets to sit in the purple chair or who gets to play on the iPad next.

Beyond that, both of my children are creatures of habit who do not like their routines disrupted. Mira isn’t too bad, but Cordy needs her routine. She knows that she has five days of school, followed by two days that are more unstructured. So when Monday arrived and she was on day three of no school routine, she quickly became irritable, hyperactive and whiny. The most exciting thing we did that day was go to the grocery, and even that was a quick trip for fear of child meltdown. The cashier didn’t even card me when I bought wine. He knew.

My mom came over yesterday to spend the day with the girls, and of course the weather was wet and cold, so they stayed in and colored eggs for Easter. If it wasn’t for my earplugs, I probably wouldn’t have had any sleep.

The weather is better today and my mom is coming again (hooray!!) to take them to the zoo. (Double hooray!!) I’m looking forward to sleeping six hours.

Friday, however, will be devoted to my girls. Whatever they want to do, we’ll do. (Within reason, of course.) I feel bad that I’m so tired most of the time and can’t give them the attention they deserve. My mom worked full time, also, and I remember always wanting more time from her than she could give me. When I lose my temper with Cordy or Mira just because I’m tired, I get angry with myself as well because I know that they only want my time. Time is so hard to come by, though.

But I don’t work on Friday night, so I’ll fight the exhaustion to have a fantastic day with my daughters and remember why I love having them around so much.

And then I’ll sign them up for summer camp on Monday.

Filed Under: being a mom, daily life, family time, school