Amy's Fitness Plan

(originally posted in 2009)

Just like a lot of you out there, I'm really hoping to end 2009 with a skinnier waistline than I had at the end of 2008. I don't have a gym membership right now, so I'm trying to figure out how to shed the extra pounds. I've had to be creative. I came up with a plan that I think you all should try. But when you do it, make sure you give me credit. Don't try to pass it off as your own idea. The only thing I still have to do is find out how many calories are burned while doing the following activities from a fairly typical week:

Jump up and down and flap arms to stay warm while filling the car with gas.

Make 2 extra trips up & down the stairs at night because 1.you forgot the baby monitor and 2. forgot to take your birth control (if you do this, make sure you don't remember both in the same trip, because that's fewer calories burned).

Maybe an extra trip up & down the stairs because you forgot that your pajamas were in the dryer still (don't fold your laundry & put it away all at once right after the dryer buzzes; make sure you have to go fetch each item piecemeal. More calories. Always think calories. Never efficiency).

Go outside, bring the trash can into the garage, and walk back into the house.

Go back outside, get the mail you forgot to get when you brought the trash can inside, walk back into the house with the mail.

Go back outside, pick up the newspaper you forgot to get when you brought the trash can inside & forgot again when you got the mail. The newspaper could be anywhere, so make sure you check your neighbor's front yard, the sidewalk in front of their house, the curb in front of the neighbor's house, or the middle of the street (also in front of the neighbor's house). But don't bother checking your own driveway or sidewalk or yard; that hardly ever happens. Then go back into the house.

Again, notice the pure inefficiency. That's the key to my fitness plan: inefficiency. And forgetfulness.

Stomp up the stairs to shut 5-year-old's bedroom door since he won't settle down to sleep. Then stomp back downstairs, ignoring his crying.

Vacuum house, then vacuum again a couple of days later just to get 5-year-old (who is terrified of the vacuum because he thinks the vacuum will suck up his books & toys) to pick up his room & playroom. And if you're feeling really mean, you could get him to pick up your bedroom as well.

Walk upstairs to get baby from crib because he's definitely not going to sleep. Walk back up 5 minutes later because, yep, he's definitely ready for a nap.

I'm still working on my diet plan. I need to find one that allows me to eat a brownie for breakfast. I just haven't found it yet.

"Practically Imperfect In Every Way"

I was recently reading a blog whose author claimed to be "practically imperfect in every way." When I saw that claim I was excited. I thought, "Oh, good, someone like me!" But the first post I saw was a recipe for something I could never make, complete with a professional-looking photo of said meal that I could never take in my wildest dreams (you should see my photos; they're terrible). And the next few posts followed suit.

I admit I enjoyed some of the posts on the blog (they were funny) and the recipes looked delicious. And of course there's nothing wrong with being good at cooking and photography (I wish I were). BUT I really began to hate this woman and all she stood for. What is with all of the women of the world claiming to be imperfect (which of course we all ARE imperfect) yet when we have a chance to share part of ourselves we decide to only display those parts of us which look pretty close to perfect? It's the old joke about cleaning the house and then when the guests arrive apologizing for the mess.

I'm guilty of this, too. I claim to have a dirty house (and, actually, I do, just ask my family) but if I take a picture I make sure my kids are NOT standing in front of my cluttered desk. And if I invite friends over I clean the house before they come over until it looks like nobody lives in it. I don't allow anyone outside my immediate family to see how I really live (they would probably be pretty disgusted).

The problem is we read blogs or look at pictures on Facebook and we all start to get a complex about ourselves. We think we're the only ones who have dirty houses or yell at our kids or have acne or feel fat or feel sad or feel lonely even when we're surrounded by people or have kids who misbehave or kids who wear their shirts backwards and their shoes on the wrong feet. 

I remember a long time ago a friend of mine just shaking her head in complete bewilderment over the fact that she had actually yelled at her kids once. ONCE. Maybe she really was that perfect or maybe she didn't want me to know the truth. I want to know the truth (up to a point, of course). I don't want to know how anyone's sex life is (please keep THAT private, thank you very much).  But I do want to know if my friends struggle. I want to know for selfish reasons (it makes me feel normal) and I want to know because then I can be a better friend. I can maybe HELP my friend.

We don't want to admit we have a hard time and we don't want to accept help. But I LOVE it when I can help a friend out in a pinch. There is no better feeling than knowing I made someone else's day a little easier. Even if my own day was pretty much awful it will immediately feel better if I can help someone.

I also LOVE knowing a friend trusts me enough to be honest with me about who she really is and what she struggles with because her imperfections are as much a part of her as her strengths are.

We're not doing our friends any favors by hiding our imperfections from them. Let's resist the urge to pretend we're perfect. Let's let our friends visit without cleaning up our houses (this is the hardest for me). Let's take pictures of kids with food on their faces (that's what they look like most the time anyway, let's admit it). Let's admit those things that are hard for us or admit when we're having a hard day. Let's allow people to help us.  Let's stop trying live a catalog family life or we'll all discover someday all we have are catalog family friendships, all superficial and glossy but never real or deep or meaningful. And I don't want to live in a catalog.

I Want to Be Me

I was recently tormenting myself by going over an incident in my past when I opened my mouth and made a fool of myself.  Cheeks flushed, I thought about the fact I never will make that mistake now that I have learned to keep that part of myself hidden. And then I stopped and thought how sad it is I felt I had to learn to hide a part of myself from the world because I thought they would not approve (and I was probably right). Although there is a refining process we should all go through in this life, where we become the best version of ourselves, nobody should have to pretend to be someone else entirely in order to have acceptance and friendship.

We've all probably felt pressure to conform our inner selves to what's acceptable. The problem is there are messages being drilled into our brains from the beginning of our consciousness until the day we day that pressure us to feel like what we are isn't good enough.

SPEAK UP

If you are a quiet or shy person you can probably relate to how I'm feeling. I'm naturally very shy but I wouldn't exactly call myself quiet. Once I feel comfortable around someone I have no trouble talking. The trouble comes with getting someone to stick around long enough to get me feeling comfortable enough to convince them I'm not as boring as I seem at face value. But in the meantime I'm constantly attacked with propaganda from the extroverts of society who can't understand that being shy is not a bad thing.

My high school Geometry teacher gave me a C in Citizenship because I didn't talk in class enough. Her reasoning was that I wasn't doing well on the tests and so I should have been asking more questions. But I don't learn that way and I certainly wouldn't have know what question to ask. How about this one: "Can you explain ALL of Geometry to me? I don't get it." So instead of finding a way to reach me she punished me for being shy with a bad grade. The next year when I took Algebra II and my teacher sat down one on one with me after school to help me understand the subject better I received the highest score on the final. THAT is how I operate. I need time to let things simmer and I need to not be put on the spot in front of an entire class. One of those teachers understood that people are not all the same AND, what's better, she was okay with it. I wish I had gone back and told that Geometry teacher how wrong her approach had been, but that kind of thing is not my strength, as you can imagine.

DON'T BE SO NICE

Speaking my mind is not something I'm good at in general. I don't like to hurt feelings. So many people over the course of my life have told me that I should just stop being so nice and just tell people exactly what I'm thinking. I'm told my approach is passive aggressive. But personally I would prefer to be guilty of the occasional passive aggressive approach than to be guilty of actual aggressiveness. The brutally honest people of the world have hurt my feelings enough for me to not want to be the one making someone feel that way. There are plenty of people in this world who will tell a person exactly what they're thinking; I think there should be some of us who will be kind and gentle.

I don't pretend I always properly apply my approach. Sometimes I have been guilty of lying to protect someone's feelings. I don't think I should lie and I'm not going to justify it. BUT I also don't see why I should have to say something unkind or harsh when I can easily pass on the same message in a gentler way.

There are situations in which I have had to grit my teeth and be brutally honest. In various leadership positions throughout my life I often have had to be that person. But I want it to be the exception rather than the rule. I don't want people to think I'm trying to hide my true feelings from them just to be considered "nice." Rather, I want them to know that whether I agree with them or not, whether I am happy with their choices or not that I will not treat them harshly or unkindly.

DON'T GET TOO EXCITED

I think part of being kind is letting someone know I'm happy to see them. In the aforementioned situation in which I made a fool of myself it was because I was too openly excited about something or other. You know when you're a little girl and you walk around holding hands with your best friend and squeal when you see her coming your way? But when you get older you have to act all cool as if it's all the same to you whether your friends come or go? At least that's what I observed and tried to mimic. It seems like the older we get the more pretending we do. Shouldn't it be the other way around??

I like people and I want to be excited to see them if I run into them at the grocery store or even just in the hallway at church. And if someone invites me to spend time with them I don't like to turn them down because I love spending time with my friends any chance I can get. And I won't squeal like a little girl, but I don't want to pretend I'm not excited. I am. I am shy and I can be socially awkward, but I will brave society so I can be with the people who are important to me. And I will usually have fun once I get comfortable with my surroundings, as long as I am surrounded by people who will let me be myself.

All my life people have tried to tell me who I should be because they think it will be "easier" for me. And in some ways being like everyone else seems easier, but what would really make my life easier is to feel people love me the way I am, even if I have room to improve. A lot of people seem to think everyone should be like them and I think everyone should be like themselves. The best version of themselves, of course, and I am still working on becoming that person.

Help Needed

Dear Family and Friends, 

This letter below is from my aunt, a native of Guatemala, who now lives in Tennessee (she is married to my mom's youngest brother). She has been organizing medical missions to Peru for about the last five years and now would like to take one to her home country in Guatemala. 

I would like to as your help in spreading the word for her, especially to medical professionals. She is looking for volunteers who can afford to pay their own way. Thanks so much for your help in sharing this letter. Miriam's contact information is included if you have more questions.

"Dear Family and Friends,

I have been planning the first medical mission to Guatemala, which will be held at the Santiago Medical Clinic in the peaceful Mayan town of Solola. We are looking for volunteers to build a team of medical professionals and non-medical support staff to help the underserved population of my beautiful Guatemala. We are thinking of a name for the mission, which right now we are calling "Love in Action."

Unfortunately, I do not have a date set yet, but to avoid the rainy season I am looking for a week in March or April 2013. Please let me know if there is a week in these months that would be best for you.

We want medical professionals of all levels, including physicians, surgeons, pre-med and biology students, nurses, pharmacists, dentists, and ophthalmologists to provide medical care at the clinic. If you are not a medical professional, or you have a non-medical family member that wants to travel with you, do not worry—I will put you to work. We are developing a list of potential workshops for the non-medical volunteers to lead, such as basic health and hygiene habits, Spanish literacy, English skills, domestic abuse prevention and parenting classes, sexual health and STD counseling. We also always need volunteers to watch and entertain the children while their parents receive medical treatment. If you have any additional thoughts on a class or workshop that you would enjoy leading, please let me know. Also, you do not need to speak Spanish to help! 

My plan is to have us work hard four days in Solola and then leave a few days for travel around the beautiful countryside in Guatemala. Solola is easily accessible to the beautiful lake of Atitlan, and we will pass through the colonial city of Antigua as well. There are also many other nearby beautiful locations, and I am attaching some pictures.

Finally, I do not know the total cost to each volunteer yet, but I am giving you a very rough estimate. This is not a final estimate, but an amount you can use to plan on whether this trip would be affordable for you or not. Of course, you have a few months before the trip, so there is time to save up! 

Very, rough estimate:

Airfare:

From Atlanta $550 round trip

From Florida $450.00 round trip

From SLC $750 round trip

From LAX $550 round trip

Hotel about $50 per night per person (based on two person per room) breakfast included in the hotel

Lunch and dinner about $20 per day

Transportation while in Guatemala about $100.

We have lots of planning to do, so please let me know if you want to be added to the list of volunteers!

I hope to hear from all of you.
If you want to call me the best time to do it is after 7 pm EST or on the weekends
Love you !
Miriam Lemon
706-280-7862"

Mommy Hypochondriasis

I think I have this disease.

Symptoms: Overuse of household sanitizing sprays. For example, when husband is sick, patient may spray everything he touches with Lysol until patient can taste Lysol when she's eating her lunch. When passing through the cold & flu section of the store, patient may hold breath. When coming into contact with any sick person, patient may sanitize hands until they're dry & unnattractive. Also, after coming into contact with a sick person, patient may imagine they have the same symptoms as said sick person. For example, when husband has a cold, patient may immediately begin experiencing sore throat, fever, and weakness that may or may not be caused by actual virus. Patient also may be terrible nurse to the sick, as patient may not wish to take temperatures, administer medicine, or generally console the sick. Instead, the patient may wish to be in different county than sick person.

Causes: Though there is considerable debate concerning the causes of this disorder, most professionals think it is probably caused by motherhood. Mothers who have had sick, whiney children do not want to deal with them again and mothers who have cared for sick children while sick themselves never want to be sick again. Thus, they may begin to take drastic measures to avoid illness in all its forms until it becomes an obsession, though some may call it an artform.

Treatments: The best cure for this disorder is for the patient to actually get sick. They become much less obsessive when sick and even feel a sort of relief at not having to avoid the illness anymore. This is why most patients are never cured, because they avoid the cure with such dedication.

Crazy Scary Stalker Girl

(originally posted 2008)

That's me. In a recent discussion on my friend's blog, we discovered that a few of us are blog-stalkers. We read the blogs of people we don't know. I would apologize for this sort of borderline behavior, except that I enjoy it too much and have found some gems as a result. Now, this is risky, but I'm going to list a few of the blogs (of people I've never met) I enjoy stalking. Some of you might be shocked:


--My sister Cindy's friend Gabe. He's a democrat, but I sometimes like to read his blog anyway. Except for when he went through a breakup... then it was a tad depressing.
--My friend Tracy's friend's blog "The Musings of the Dahle Lama." She also contributes to a pretty good blog called "Do We Have to Eat This?"
--My friend Leslie's "friend" Katie's Blog "White Skinned Goddess."

There are more, but I'm getting tired.

Now you know what a crazy stalker girl I am. I'm sure there's something not quite genteel about continually exposing myself this way to all my friends & family (&, potentially, other crazy stalkers), but then I suppose I don't care.

Now, perhaps I shouldn't encourage such behavior, but I will anyway. In case you're now thinking of blog stalking people you've never met, let me suggest some of my friends' blogs for you to stalk:

Leslie: http://sweetlifeofleslie.blogspot.com/. Funny, sweet, cute. 'Nuff said.
Jen: http://wehrmeisters.blogspot.com/. Funny, funny, funny.
Melynie: http://lifeissodelicious.blogspot.com/. The stories about her kids... so great!
My sister-in-law's photo blog: http://jessicawashburn365.blogspot.com/. Now you can see why I think I'm not good at photography.

Note: if you are an unsavory character who is stalking my blog, please stop and please don't go stalking any of my friends, either. We don't like unsavory characters reading our blogs.

Sounding Off

So, as you may have learned by now... I don't really like confrontation. And usually when someone expresses an opinion about something that I disagree with, well, I just keep my mouth shut & complain to David about it later & he tells me I need to start standing up for myself, which advice I continue to ignore. But I thought it was about time I sounded off on a few things, to cleanse the system.

To the two ladies I talked to at a shindig for our kids earlier this week...

It's apparent that you hate your children so, yes, for you the best path probably would have been to jet-set about the country until you got the selfishness out of your system, then try to have kids at 40. Hopefully you wouldn't have been able to conceive so late in life and then I wouldn't have to stand here listening to you talk about how awful your children are and how you could have better planned your life so as to minimize the time you had to spend with them.
---
To someone who looked over my Disney movie collection a few years ago...

No, I don't think the fact that there are always bad guys in Disney movies somehow makes them bad for children to watch. There is good in this world, but there is also a lot of bad in this world. I think it might be slightly better to expose your kids to bad vs. good first in a Disney format, so they can see how good can overcome, than to protect them from all bad things until you, at some point during their lives, throw them out to the wolves without any kind of warning. And how dare you, when invited into my home, look at the movies I have and commence to announce to the room full of women how they are bad movies? Where are your manners?!
---
To nobody in particular, just in case you were wondering...

I don't like garlic salt! I prefer garlic powder!
---
To my psychpathic downstairs neighbor from a few years ago...

It's apparent you hate children, but I happen to like them. Especially mine. And I refuse to make him tiptoe around all day just because you happened to move in below me & decided to work a night job delivering newspapers because your job at the vet clinic didn't work out an account of you hating people (her words, not mine). And stop leaving nasty notes on my door every morning. And get rid of those horrible birds. Oh, and by the way, we're moving soon, but I'm not telling you that because I want to torture you a little. I don't want you to know we'll be gone soon. I want you to think we'll be living here forever & my little boy will continue playing with his toys and having fun when you're trying to sleep. Because that's what kids do. At least the happy ones, with parents who love them more than they love psychopathic downstairs neighbors. No offense or anything. It's natural for me to love my child more than someone I hardly know. If it makes you feel better, I love you just as much as anyone could love a psychopathic downstairs neighbor who's tormenting them and lying to apartment managers about them. And, no, I don't have a dog!
---
To a lot of you out there...

I think Crocs are ugly & I can't believe you would wear them out in public!
---
To my math teacher in sixth grade...

No, I'm not as smart as my brother! NOT my fault!
---
To most of my friends & family...

STOP exercising & eating healthy! You're makin' me look bad!
---
To a random stranger at Shop N Save many, many years ago, when they first instituded "coupon Thursday"...

Yes, I do think waiting in line for 30 minutes is worth $10. Totally. I just got paid $10 to stand here. Some people pay money to go stand in lines, like at Disneyland. In this case, it's like Disneyland paid US!
---

Okay, enough already. Boy, do I feel better.

Reasons to Either Love or Hate Shopping with Children

1. Snacks. You must have snacks for the children, which means you can have a snack for yourself. This is good if you're hungry as I was today but not so good if you accidentally eat half a bag of strawberry yogurt covered raisins (or "pink yummies," as Melynie calls them) that you bought at Aldi 5 minutes ago.

2. Company. At least you're not the lonely shopper, wandering aimlessly, nobody to talk to. But on the other hand, you have someone to talk to you. "Mom, what's for Gain?" "Mom, what's for Purex?" (repeat for every brand of detergent you can think of and that might give you an idea). Even though you eventually tell them, "Everything here is for washing clothes. EVERYTHING." They'll still need to ask.

3. Efficiency. Shopping with children can make you more efficient. When I shop alone I wander, looking at everything in the store until David calls the police to search for me. Not that way with kids. With kids you leave the store before you have everything you needed because said children were laying on top of the shelves, which means you will have to go back again another day, which I guess isn't really efficient after all.

4. Attention. If you take your kids with you to the store people will look at you. When you shop alone they might not. Not sure if you want them looking at you, though, when you threaten in that end-of-my-rope voice to leave the children at the store if they don't stop hiding in the racks of clothes.

5. Excitement. If you shop with children you won't be bored. Your heart will be racing at some point or another on your shopping trip. Like when you can't find your child for 5 solid minutes even though you're yelling his name and he can hear you from the rack of clothes he's hiding inside. Maybe boredom's not such a bad thing.

6. Preparedness. If you shop with children you will have something for almost any catastrophe that might arise. Like when your child dumps soft scrub with bleach on himself in the shopping cart. But then if you shop with children you MUST be prepared for all sorts of catastrophes, so gone is the cute handbag. Enter the mommy bag. Useful. Big. NOT cute.

Then you'll get home and find out your husband came home from work early. If you had left an hour later you could have been shopping alone. ALONE!

Thanks to the rotten potatoes for taking the trash out, mopping my bathrooms, cleaning my kitchen, and making me take a shower

A few days ago I smelled a smell in my kitchen. I was pretty sure it had to be in the trash can, so I took the trash out. I could still smell it, so I also took the recycling out. Then since the smell was still there I decided I'd better scrub both the trash & recycling cans. Guess what. My kitchen still reeked. Like something had died.

Next, I wondered maybe something had spilled on the floor under the trash, so I swept and mopped the kitchen, which led to me sweeping and mopping the entryway and the bathrooms. Since that didn't work I washed the dishes and used a special cleaner in my garbage disposal, because probably there was just something stinky in the sink somewhere. Well, then it was really late and I decided to go to bed. I wasn't sure if I could smell the smell anymore or not.

In the morning I was pretty sure I could still smell it, but I still thought it came from the vicinity of the trash. I was baffled. I started to wonder if maybe it wasn't the kitchen after all. It could be ME. So I showered. Luckily that didn't get rid of the stink.

Then I did other stuff because I have things to do and can't stand around all day in my kitchen, just wondering what smells are. Later that night I set the trash cans in the garage, for an experiment. My kitchen was still unpleasant.

My next train of thought was that there was maybe a dead animal somewhere. So I did nothing because I did NOT want to be the one to find a dead rat in the kitchen. That might cause me to pass out and then who would care for the children. So I had David look around when he came home (he of course hadn't even noticed the smell). He looked in the cupboards and in the vent. Then he found it. The bag of rotten potatoes. No, two bags of rotten baby potatoes that I had on hand to make delicious Crash Hot Potatoes for my family. No crash hot potatoes for us, but at least my trash cans are clean. And my garbage disposal. And my floors (all of them). And me.

The Man Who Didn't Wash His Dishes and how he's still in my life

One of my favorite books as I was growing up was "The Man Who Didn't Wash His Dishes" (Krasilovsky, Phyllis). This poor man apparently didn't like washing dishes, so he just didn't. Eventually he ran out of dishes to eat off and cook out of, so he got creative-- eating out of flower pots and ash trays, even the soap dish. Then he ran out of those things, too, but also out of room to put any more dirty dishes and the cleanup job was just too big. So he had the ingeneous idea to put all the dirty dishes & non-dishes in the back of his truck while it was raining and that got them all clean. He of course vowed to always wash his dishes from there on out.


Now, I of course realize how ridiculous the whole story is, because when I run out of clean plates I just use paper plates. And when I don't have a pot to cook out of I just drive down to Little Ceasar's. And of course the rain would be no match for stuck-on food-- especially food that was stuck on the first plate he used, before he ran out of ALL his dishes and everything else that could pose as a dish. Just imagine.


But that's not the point (I always have a point, as you well know). The point is how I still think of that poor man on at least a weekly basis. There's a day every week when I look around my kitchen and think, boy, there's not even a place to put any more dirty dishes (as I was thinking today and which brought me to writing this inspiring post). If I don't watch out I'll be like that poor man who had to eat out of a flower pot. And that's when I finally get around to washing the dishes. Because I, too, hate washing dishes. It's one of my least favorite household chores. But I'm pretty well convinced I would hate eating out of a flower pot even more than I hate washing dishes.


You should read the book, by the way. But not because it will have the same effect on you (you're adults, for heaven's sake) but because it's a good book. Your kids (if you have some) would love it, too, and maybe someday they'll look around their kitchens and say, boy, I don't have a place to put any more dirty dishes. If I don't watch out I'll end up like that poor man who had to eat out of a flower pot. And they'll wash their dishes and your grandchildren won't have to eat out of soap dishes. Just think.