So, I knew today was going to be a crazily busy day, what with my woman's Bible study group this morning, running errands, and then my cousin's wedding and reception this evening. And, oh yeah, there was the "big meeting" of the Ex with the boys and me for lunch.
Actually, for all the hoopla and stress this has brought into our lives for the last three weeks, it really was kind of much ado about nothing. I don't mean it meant nothing, but it just didn't turn out (for me at least) like I had thought. Over the years, there has been a lot of anger on my part when I think back about the demise of my first marriage, and about the way he had just walked out of the lives of the boys, not to mention me. However, my DH came into my life just over a year later and has always been "Dad" to them, for better and for worse with them and me. I think he won the boys' hearts before he even won mine. They are as much his as they are mine, and most people are honestly surprised to learn that he's not their natural father.
I think, as human beings, that we all have a tendency to look back on the past and wonder "what if..." Today, seeing him for the first time in 11 years, I expected to feel that same old surge of anger and hurt, but it wasn't like that. It was more like running into an old friend from high school that you hadn't seen in 20 years (Wow, it's hard to believe it really has been that long since high school. Man, does time fly when you're having fun!). Good to see him, fun to catch up on family, but absolutely no regrets for how things have turned out.
God has been working in my life for the last couple of years on forgiveness: not necessarily in this situation, but for other things that have happened in my past that I won't go into. Suffice it to say, there were A LOT of years that I really struggled with this, particularly with one individual (not the ex). If you had asked me a dozen years ago if I would ever accomplish it, I would have just laughed (albeit bitterly). But the craziest thing happened: Once I finally determined that I just didn't have it in me to forgive that person on my own and dumped the whole sorry mess in God's lap (and here's the important part, actually left it there), He completely took it from me. Whereas I used to dream about running down this person in my car, I can actually see them now and feel absolutely nothing.
Today with the ex (I really need to come up with some sort of nickname) was just like that. It's not as though I don't remember all he did, but it just didn't matter to me. I've been the lucky one who's gotten to keep the boys to myself and have total say in how they are raised, and I hate to brag, but I think I've done one helluva job! By him walking out, I didn't have to struggle the way a lot of divorced parents do with dealing with the kids being bounced back and forth every-other weekend, or having different disciplinary styles or any of that. Even though we have our challenges (and trust me, WE DO), I have every confidence that they will both turn out to be fine young men. They both already make me proud with their sincerely kind hearts (just not always with each other. What is it about boys and that constant need to wrestle and mercilessly harass each other!). The X-man has been the only one who has missed out, and he will never be able to undo the damage that was done. He will never enjoy the relationship with them that Tom has or be the one they call "dad." I actually felt sorry for him today, because I think he's finally reached a point in his life where he truly "gets" it. For his sake, I hope that he's sincere in trying to change his life. I think everyone deserves that chance. And for the boys', I choose to believe that we can never have enough people in our life who care for us, and I'm glad that they at least will have that opportunity to do with it what they will.
September 20, 2008
September 16, 2008
And Now I'm Off to the Funny Farm
Well, folks, it's official. Tom and the kids will soon start looking at nice homes for me to live in where the rooms are all padded and they play nothing but soft, soothing canned muzak. Or maybe I'll be the youngest person ever to enter into an Alzheimer's care facility. I don't know what, but something has to be done!
Let me explain by first stating this: I am the WORLD'S WORST MOTHER. I'm not proud of it, and I really have tried to do better, but there it is. I yam what I yam, as Popeye would say it...
This morning, Evan came into my room before I was fully awake to remind me that it was Tuesday, and therefore he would need a ride home from wrestling practice as he has each Tuesday for the last 3 weeks. I clearly remember this conversation (in retrospect), and I remember telling him I'd be there at 5:15ish, and to have a good day at school. So far, so good in the caring mom category, right?
Yesterday I ended up taking half of the day off of work because Savannah had caught a nasty cold. She feels much better today, so it was off to school for her and off to work for me. At work, I had many things to do to catch up. I was working along at a pretty good clip when 5:00 p.m. rolled around, and I remember thinking that if I worked until 5:30 or 6:00 p.m. each night I could make up all those missed hours and not have to use any of my sick leave.
So, like the diligent, conscientious worker I am, that's what I did. I closed up shop at 6:00 p.m., shut down the computer, and locked up the office. I meandered out to my car and drove the 25-minute drive it takes me to get home. A drive, I might add, that takes me RIGHT PAST THE HIGH SCHOOL. I sailed by, noting the football practice going on near the north entrance, and enjoying the lovely drought-tolerant garden that the school planted near the front entrance. I then continued on my merry little way until I reached home.
As I pulled in the driveway, Braden, the son who still loves me, came out to the vehicle. He is taking Spanish this year, so he quite often tries to carry on conversations with his limited vocabulary.
Braden: "Donde es mi' bro-her?"
Me: "Where is WHAT?"
Braden: "Donde es My BROTHER? He never rode the bus home..."
Me: "AACCKKK!!! Oh my God - I'll be back!" And off I went...
Luckily, Evan was still waiting there, right where he'd been for the last hour and a half, even as he watched me zip by without so much as a look. I have tried passing it off as a test of his patience, but he's not buying it. I've also apologized profusely, and assured him of my undying, yet oft-forgetful love for him. I also bought him dinner at McDonalds and a gallon of his favorite gatorade, so I really should be off the hook.
Sometimes there are good things about losing all your marbles, so maybe this will be one of those painful memories I'll block out. Still, I have the feeling he'll be reminding me of this one for the next 10 years or so... At least until he has his own child to forget!
Love you Ev!
Let me explain by first stating this: I am the WORLD'S WORST MOTHER. I'm not proud of it, and I really have tried to do better, but there it is. I yam what I yam, as Popeye would say it...
This morning, Evan came into my room before I was fully awake to remind me that it was Tuesday, and therefore he would need a ride home from wrestling practice as he has each Tuesday for the last 3 weeks. I clearly remember this conversation (in retrospect), and I remember telling him I'd be there at 5:15ish, and to have a good day at school. So far, so good in the caring mom category, right?
Yesterday I ended up taking half of the day off of work because Savannah had caught a nasty cold. She feels much better today, so it was off to school for her and off to work for me. At work, I had many things to do to catch up. I was working along at a pretty good clip when 5:00 p.m. rolled around, and I remember thinking that if I worked until 5:30 or 6:00 p.m. each night I could make up all those missed hours and not have to use any of my sick leave.
So, like the diligent, conscientious worker I am, that's what I did. I closed up shop at 6:00 p.m., shut down the computer, and locked up the office. I meandered out to my car and drove the 25-minute drive it takes me to get home. A drive, I might add, that takes me RIGHT PAST THE HIGH SCHOOL. I sailed by, noting the football practice going on near the north entrance, and enjoying the lovely drought-tolerant garden that the school planted near the front entrance. I then continued on my merry little way until I reached home.
As I pulled in the driveway, Braden, the son who still loves me, came out to the vehicle. He is taking Spanish this year, so he quite often tries to carry on conversations with his limited vocabulary.
Braden: "Donde es mi' bro-her?"
Me: "Where is WHAT?"
Braden: "Donde es My BROTHER? He never rode the bus home..."
Me: "AACCKKK!!! Oh my God - I'll be back!" And off I went...
Luckily, Evan was still waiting there, right where he'd been for the last hour and a half, even as he watched me zip by without so much as a look. I have tried passing it off as a test of his patience, but he's not buying it. I've also apologized profusely, and assured him of my undying, yet oft-forgetful love for him. I also bought him dinner at McDonalds and a gallon of his favorite gatorade, so I really should be off the hook.
Sometimes there are good things about losing all your marbles, so maybe this will be one of those painful memories I'll block out. Still, I have the feeling he'll be reminding me of this one for the next 10 years or so... At least until he has his own child to forget!
Love you Ev!
September 13, 2008
You know God loves you when...
…He gives you a microwave cart!
Alright, I know that’s a little bit weird, but it’s true. Let me explain.
Last year for Christmas, my parents’ Christmas present to Tom and me was wood laminate flooring for our living room and kitchen. We bought the house we live in almost 8 years ago, and let’s just say that the people who lived here before us did some very, ummm, “creative” things to “fix” problems in the house. It reminds me of a chapter in one of Patrick McManus’ books about a bicycle built by a guy with three hands. Anyway, one thing I’ve always hated is a counter that ran along almost the whole front wall of the kitchen: a counter which had absolutely no shelves built into it, and about 6 drawers in various states of disrepair (and really, we all know you only need one junk drawer – 6 was just too many!). The one redeeming feature of this counter that made it absolutely impossible to fit a kitchen table in the room (well, without also blocking the fridge door), was that there was plenty of space to put my microwave.
For the last 9 months, we’ve had boxes and boxes of our beautiful new flooring stacked up in the house. However, just because you have it doesn’t mean you know what to do with it! Tom is an absolute wizard at fixing vehicles, but he’s a little “challenged” when it comes to doing major home repairs (Sorry honey ;-) ). My brother Forrest helped my mom and dad install theirs, my cousin Kenny install his, and then did his own, so he is now a bonafide expert. Really, after helping with ours, he is an absolute magician, but that’s another story as well… Anyway, schedules being what they are and life being what it is, my mom and Forrest haven’t been able to get up here to help us, and we just haven’t had the money to hire anyone else to come and do it for us. Two weeks ago, my mom called to let me know they’d be here that next weekend (1 week ago).
Now we come back to the counter. Tom and I had previously decided that we’d rip out the counter when we did the floor. So, that weekend that’s what we decided to do. In addition, I decided to walk on the wild side, and ** gasp ** actually repaint the kitchen and living room (which are basically one large room divided by another counter) in a color other than white, off-white, or very light tan. We finally settled on forest green on the front wall, with a mocha color on all the other walls. Well, when we ripped out the counter, we discovered that the reason they had placed the counter there was to cover up two very large holes in the wall. Unfortunately, the sheetrock that part of the house was built with is only as thick as a piece of paper. All right, it’s ¼” thick, but it might as well be paper. Needless to say, nobody carries that thin sheetrock anymore, so we could either redo the ENTIRE wall in the living room and kitchen with new sheetrock, or we could improvise.
We patched the holes as best we could, and then settled on some knotty pine beadboard to cover the bottom half of the kitchen wall. It looks absolutely GORGEOUS! Last weekend we got the floor put in (mostly – I still need to decide on the baseboards I want and then stain and install them), and we moved the table so that you can actually open the fridge without having to hire a moving crew. In the meantime, we had to put the microwave on the only open counter space we had (another drawback of the kitchen), so I made plans to buy a small microwave cart to put where the table had once been. After one of my marathon shopping trips, and after looking at about 5 different stores, I finally found the microwave cart I wanted, but it was $70. Well, after spending so much on paint, beadboard, tools, etc., I decided we really couldn’t afford it “right now.” I talked myself into and out of it several times before finally leaving the store, figuring that I could live without one until my next payday.
That was last Sunday afternoon. Sunday evening, Savannah accidentally slammed one of her fingers in the front door, totally ripping the nail out of the nail bed, and as I was to later discover, fracturing the tip in 2 places. A few days before this I had one of my major vertigo attacks, so I had been nauseated and off-balance for days. Monday I stayed at work as long as I could take it and then decided to come home a little early to try to sleep it off. Savannah arrived home from school at the same time as I did, so I decided to re-bandage her finger before I went to bed. Well, it looked even worse than it had the night before, so I made an executive decision and took her to Instacare where she received her first stitches and x-rays. After finally getting done there (by this time it was about 8:30 p.m.) we headed to the grocery store to get her prescription filled. Again, we had to wait. We left the grocery store about 9:00 p.m., and got roughly half-way home before my vehicle started making really weird noises, all the gauge lights came on, and the temperature went through the roof. So, we pulled over, called Tom to don his Knight’s costume and come rescue us, and waited. On the way home, as we were all squished together in his little two-seater pickup, he casually mentioned that we have to tighten our belts as much as we can, because his boss had come to him that night to let him know that if the economy doesn’t pick up and things don’t get busier at work, he may have to close the shop.
Well, that’s just SWELL…
Needless to say, it had been a VERY BAD DAY. Tuesday I called in sick, sent the kids off to school, crawled into bed, buried my head under the covers, and slept for 5 hours. Later, I wandered into my beautiful-floored kitchen to find something to eat when it hit me: I could no longer get a microwave cart. Not this week, not next week, probably NEVER. I was in full pity-party mode about everything, and doing some pretty hefty grumbling, er, I mean praying to God…
Now here’s the good part: I logged onto the computer to check my yahoo email account (which I rarely remember to check) and found a Freecycle (great site) notice which had been sent several days before offering a microwave cart. I emailed the person, but figured it would already be gone as things tend to go quickly. Thursday I received a return email saying that the people who had contacted her for the cart had never shown up, so she gave me her address and told me that whoever got there first could have it. I stopped by after work (only 2 blocks out of my way from my regular trip home!), and there it sat: the microwave cart. And not just any microwave cart, but the EXACT one that I had wanted. And the best part? I didn’t have to put the thing together!
It just helps to remind me that God really does have things in control, right down to our smallest desires. What an awesome way to end a crazy week!
Alright, I know that’s a little bit weird, but it’s true. Let me explain.
Last year for Christmas, my parents’ Christmas present to Tom and me was wood laminate flooring for our living room and kitchen. We bought the house we live in almost 8 years ago, and let’s just say that the people who lived here before us did some very, ummm, “creative” things to “fix” problems in the house. It reminds me of a chapter in one of Patrick McManus’ books about a bicycle built by a guy with three hands. Anyway, one thing I’ve always hated is a counter that ran along almost the whole front wall of the kitchen: a counter which had absolutely no shelves built into it, and about 6 drawers in various states of disrepair (and really, we all know you only need one junk drawer – 6 was just too many!). The one redeeming feature of this counter that made it absolutely impossible to fit a kitchen table in the room (well, without also blocking the fridge door), was that there was plenty of space to put my microwave.
For the last 9 months, we’ve had boxes and boxes of our beautiful new flooring stacked up in the house. However, just because you have it doesn’t mean you know what to do with it! Tom is an absolute wizard at fixing vehicles, but he’s a little “challenged” when it comes to doing major home repairs (Sorry honey ;-) ). My brother Forrest helped my mom and dad install theirs, my cousin Kenny install his, and then did his own, so he is now a bonafide expert. Really, after helping with ours, he is an absolute magician, but that’s another story as well… Anyway, schedules being what they are and life being what it is, my mom and Forrest haven’t been able to get up here to help us, and we just haven’t had the money to hire anyone else to come and do it for us. Two weeks ago, my mom called to let me know they’d be here that next weekend (1 week ago).
Now we come back to the counter. Tom and I had previously decided that we’d rip out the counter when we did the floor. So, that weekend that’s what we decided to do. In addition, I decided to walk on the wild side, and ** gasp ** actually repaint the kitchen and living room (which are basically one large room divided by another counter) in a color other than white, off-white, or very light tan. We finally settled on forest green on the front wall, with a mocha color on all the other walls. Well, when we ripped out the counter, we discovered that the reason they had placed the counter there was to cover up two very large holes in the wall. Unfortunately, the sheetrock that part of the house was built with is only as thick as a piece of paper. All right, it’s ¼” thick, but it might as well be paper. Needless to say, nobody carries that thin sheetrock anymore, so we could either redo the ENTIRE wall in the living room and kitchen with new sheetrock, or we could improvise.
We patched the holes as best we could, and then settled on some knotty pine beadboard to cover the bottom half of the kitchen wall. It looks absolutely GORGEOUS! Last weekend we got the floor put in (mostly – I still need to decide on the baseboards I want and then stain and install them), and we moved the table so that you can actually open the fridge without having to hire a moving crew. In the meantime, we had to put the microwave on the only open counter space we had (another drawback of the kitchen), so I made plans to buy a small microwave cart to put where the table had once been. After one of my marathon shopping trips, and after looking at about 5 different stores, I finally found the microwave cart I wanted, but it was $70. Well, after spending so much on paint, beadboard, tools, etc., I decided we really couldn’t afford it “right now.” I talked myself into and out of it several times before finally leaving the store, figuring that I could live without one until my next payday.
That was last Sunday afternoon. Sunday evening, Savannah accidentally slammed one of her fingers in the front door, totally ripping the nail out of the nail bed, and as I was to later discover, fracturing the tip in 2 places. A few days before this I had one of my major vertigo attacks, so I had been nauseated and off-balance for days. Monday I stayed at work as long as I could take it and then decided to come home a little early to try to sleep it off. Savannah arrived home from school at the same time as I did, so I decided to re-bandage her finger before I went to bed. Well, it looked even worse than it had the night before, so I made an executive decision and took her to Instacare where she received her first stitches and x-rays. After finally getting done there (by this time it was about 8:30 p.m.) we headed to the grocery store to get her prescription filled. Again, we had to wait. We left the grocery store about 9:00 p.m., and got roughly half-way home before my vehicle started making really weird noises, all the gauge lights came on, and the temperature went through the roof. So, we pulled over, called Tom to don his Knight’s costume and come rescue us, and waited. On the way home, as we were all squished together in his little two-seater pickup, he casually mentioned that we have to tighten our belts as much as we can, because his boss had come to him that night to let him know that if the economy doesn’t pick up and things don’t get busier at work, he may have to close the shop.
Well, that’s just SWELL…
Needless to say, it had been a VERY BAD DAY. Tuesday I called in sick, sent the kids off to school, crawled into bed, buried my head under the covers, and slept for 5 hours. Later, I wandered into my beautiful-floored kitchen to find something to eat when it hit me: I could no longer get a microwave cart. Not this week, not next week, probably NEVER. I was in full pity-party mode about everything, and doing some pretty hefty grumbling, er, I mean praying to God…
Now here’s the good part: I logged onto the computer to check my yahoo email account (which I rarely remember to check) and found a Freecycle (great site) notice which had been sent several days before offering a microwave cart. I emailed the person, but figured it would already be gone as things tend to go quickly. Thursday I received a return email saying that the people who had contacted her for the cart had never shown up, so she gave me her address and told me that whoever got there first could have it. I stopped by after work (only 2 blocks out of my way from my regular trip home!), and there it sat: the microwave cart. And not just any microwave cart, but the EXACT one that I had wanted. And the best part? I didn’t have to put the thing together!
It just helps to remind me that God really does have things in control, right down to our smallest desires. What an awesome way to end a crazy week!
September 11, 2008
So many others say it better
I have so many things to update since my last posting, but in honor of 9/11, I thought I would direct you to the posting of another blogsite that I really enjoy. She has created a roughly 5-minute video clip that is definitely worth watching.
www.ournameisblog.blogspot.com
May it be a reminder to always lift up our country, our leaders (both present and future, regardless if they're republican or democrat), and our citizens in prayer...
www.ournameisblog.blogspot.com
May it be a reminder to always lift up our country, our leaders (both present and future, regardless if they're republican or democrat), and our citizens in prayer...
August 22, 2008
Late-night conversations...
Me: Honey... honey... HONEY!
Tom: [Snorts] Huh?
Me: Roll over, please.
Tom: [Silence]
Me: Roll over!
Tom: Why?
Me: Because you're snoring...
Tom: [after another minute of just laying there]
I don't think so...
Now why on earth would I wake you up in the middle of the night and demand you roll over if you aren't snoring?!!! He finally did roll over, but then the snoring level reached a new depth and level.
Ugghh!
Tom: [Snorts] Huh?
Me: Roll over, please.
Tom: [Silence]
Me: Roll over!
Tom: Why?
Me: Because you're snoring...
Tom: [after another minute of just laying there]
I don't think so...
Now why on earth would I wake you up in the middle of the night and demand you roll over if you aren't snoring?!!! He finally did roll over, but then the snoring level reached a new depth and level.
Ugghh!
August 7, 2008
I fell off the wagon...
Hello.
My name is Tracy, and I'm a saltaholic...
Several months ago, I was diagnosed with having Meniere’s Disease, an inner ear problem which causes bouts of severe vertigo, nausea, tinnitus, and a feeling of pressure in the ear such as when you’re driving over a mountain pass, but you can NEVER get it clear.
Basically, the inner ear is made up of canals that are filled with endolymphatic fluid, which is a fluid made up of sodium. Movement of the endolymph in the balance canals creates and sends messages to the brain about the position and movement of your body. When you have Meniere's, for whatever reason, your body doesn't regulate the body's sodium like it should, so it builds up in the endolymph fluid, causing the fluid to build up so the canals swell and don't work right, causing the wonderful symptoms I mentioned before. It's like a trip to Lagoon without the steep entrance cost! Even better, you never really know when a spell is going to hit you, so that helps add suspense and excitement... NOT.
I started having symptoms a year ago this month with it really kicking into high gear in January, but I didn't get a diagnosis until April of this year. So, now that we know what it is finally, problem solved, right? Ummm... not so much! Doctors don't really know what causes Meniere's to happen in some people and not in others. And there's also not really a cure, but it can be "managed."
Great - sign me up! But here's where the saltaholic thing comes in. To help control symptoms, along with a diuretic, they recommend that you limit your salt intake to 1000-1500 milligrams of salt PER DAY. Are you kidding me? I have never been one to use a lot of salt in cooking, but given the choice between chocolate or a salty snack, I'll choose salt any day. For those of you not in the know (like me until this!), 1500 mg is only 3/4 teaspoon of salt a day. That means I can have all the fruits and veggies I want, but don't even think about dressing. This for the woman who uses veggies, salad, french fries, steak, etc. etc. as a vehicle for ranch dressing... Dill pickles (which I love) - a whopping 833 mg. for 1medium. Quick bowl of ramen noodles? Over 700. Cooking has really become a challenge: as a working mom, we were eating a lot of packaged food like pasta roni side dishes, baked beans, etc. - all full of salt.
But I digress... I've been doing pretty well. I no longer use salt in cooking, I've cut out or drastically down on the packaged food, found a lot of low-sodium or no-sodium foods, found a GREAT balsamic dressing that's really low in sodium (Lighthouse brand, I highly recommend it!), and I've given up my morning egg & cheese burritos from Taco Maker (** sigh **), and I rarely eat out.
However, every weekend when I drive to the local Wal-Mart (or as Braden puts it, hell on earth, but that's a blog for another day) I have to pass by one of my favorite Mexican restaurants, El Toro's, which has the GREATEST salsa verde that has ever been tasted this side of heaven. Before Meniere's I would frequently stop and buy a large cup-full, which we'd all devour before the end of the night. I have taken to turning my head when we drive by, because the memories are just too painful ;-)
Friday, I lost my struggle. At Wal-Mart, I made a totally premeditated beeline for the tortilla chip aisle, I power-walked into the restaurant, grabbed my brown paper sack with the wonderful salsa (I honestly considered chugging it), and returned home to devour it. I told myself I'd just have "2 tablespoons." But like any saltaholic, that was just the start. As I made dinner, I ate chips and salsa. My reward for eating all my dinner? More chips and salsa. I deserved SOMETHING for not going garage-sale-ing on Saturday. Yeah, you know what it was. Pretty soon, it was ALL gone. To be fair, I did share a little bit with the kids (actually, Savannah has mentioned something about dirty looks and having to pry it away from me to get her ONE chip, but hey, I didn't have to let her have any!). Sunday I woke up feeling extremely swimmy, and my ears have literally been screeching at me ever since, especially at night, but it was SOOOO worth it!
I now think I can sympathize more with alcoholics. There was very little self control, and it was all I could think of... Oh, how the mighty have fallen! :) I wonder if there's a support group for this?
My name is Tracy, and I'm a saltaholic...
Several months ago, I was diagnosed with having Meniere’s Disease, an inner ear problem which causes bouts of severe vertigo, nausea, tinnitus, and a feeling of pressure in the ear such as when you’re driving over a mountain pass, but you can NEVER get it clear.
Basically, the inner ear is made up of canals that are filled with endolymphatic fluid, which is a fluid made up of sodium. Movement of the endolymph in the balance canals creates and sends messages to the brain about the position and movement of your body. When you have Meniere's, for whatever reason, your body doesn't regulate the body's sodium like it should, so it builds up in the endolymph fluid, causing the fluid to build up so the canals swell and don't work right, causing the wonderful symptoms I mentioned before. It's like a trip to Lagoon without the steep entrance cost! Even better, you never really know when a spell is going to hit you, so that helps add suspense and excitement... NOT.
I started having symptoms a year ago this month with it really kicking into high gear in January, but I didn't get a diagnosis until April of this year. So, now that we know what it is finally, problem solved, right? Ummm... not so much! Doctors don't really know what causes Meniere's to happen in some people and not in others. And there's also not really a cure, but it can be "managed."
Great - sign me up! But here's where the saltaholic thing comes in. To help control symptoms, along with a diuretic, they recommend that you limit your salt intake to 1000-1500 milligrams of salt PER DAY. Are you kidding me? I have never been one to use a lot of salt in cooking, but given the choice between chocolate or a salty snack, I'll choose salt any day. For those of you not in the know (like me until this!), 1500 mg is only 3/4 teaspoon of salt a day. That means I can have all the fruits and veggies I want, but don't even think about dressing. This for the woman who uses veggies, salad, french fries, steak, etc. etc. as a vehicle for ranch dressing... Dill pickles (which I love) - a whopping 833 mg. for 1medium. Quick bowl of ramen noodles? Over 700. Cooking has really become a challenge: as a working mom, we were eating a lot of packaged food like pasta roni side dishes, baked beans, etc. - all full of salt.
But I digress... I've been doing pretty well. I no longer use salt in cooking, I've cut out or drastically down on the packaged food, found a lot of low-sodium or no-sodium foods, found a GREAT balsamic dressing that's really low in sodium (Lighthouse brand, I highly recommend it!), and I've given up my morning egg & cheese burritos from Taco Maker (** sigh **), and I rarely eat out.
However, every weekend when I drive to the local Wal-Mart (or as Braden puts it, hell on earth, but that's a blog for another day) I have to pass by one of my favorite Mexican restaurants, El Toro's, which has the GREATEST salsa verde that has ever been tasted this side of heaven. Before Meniere's I would frequently stop and buy a large cup-full, which we'd all devour before the end of the night. I have taken to turning my head when we drive by, because the memories are just too painful ;-)
Friday, I lost my struggle. At Wal-Mart, I made a totally premeditated beeline for the tortilla chip aisle, I power-walked into the restaurant, grabbed my brown paper sack with the wonderful salsa (I honestly considered chugging it), and returned home to devour it. I told myself I'd just have "2 tablespoons." But like any saltaholic, that was just the start. As I made dinner, I ate chips and salsa. My reward for eating all my dinner? More chips and salsa. I deserved SOMETHING for not going garage-sale-ing on Saturday. Yeah, you know what it was. Pretty soon, it was ALL gone. To be fair, I did share a little bit with the kids (actually, Savannah has mentioned something about dirty looks and having to pry it away from me to get her ONE chip, but hey, I didn't have to let her have any!). Sunday I woke up feeling extremely swimmy, and my ears have literally been screeching at me ever since, especially at night, but it was SOOOO worth it!
I now think I can sympathize more with alcoholics. There was very little self control, and it was all I could think of... Oh, how the mighty have fallen! :) I wonder if there's a support group for this?
August 4, 2008
How much are these photos worth? Priceless!
As promised, here are a few pictures from our recent camping trip up at Temple Flats near Bear Lake. The road to get there is HORRIBLE, but the views once you get there are all worth it, and because it's so bumpy, there weren't that many other campers, so we were able to be choosy in picking our camp site. The weather was absolutely perfect all 4 days, and we did lots of riding the trails on the 4-wheeler, and I was able to relax and do lots of reading, crossword puzzles, and working on a latch-hook kit that Braden got for his birthday (I promised not to do it all - I'm just "helping.")
As a mom permanently attached to the camera, some of my favorite shots to take are those that can be used for future blackmail opportunities. On this trip, I was able to take some doozies... When the boys were younger, I always knew that one day, far in the future, they would become interested in girls and I would need this material. Finally, all that hard work is about to pay off! Savannah just turned 9, but I figure it's never too soon to start. And, if you're lucky enough to get a great shot of your dear hubby, it's all just a bonus!
First thing in the morning, Tom serenades Savannah... Oh wait, I just caught him mid-yawn!
As a baby, Braden always wiggled, snuffled, and spread out. Some things never change - now he's just bigger, and the feet are more toxic. :)
This photo of Evan defies description... and may actually be a little disturbing! :)
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