I’m so Fried-day

Crazy week this week. Today was the culmination. Here’s the rundown:

Up at 7 am to preside over a new, improved morning routine (we used to stumble out of bed at 7:30 and wonder why we couldn’t get out of the house by 8:00 am). The routine thing (I’ve posted about my difficulties with routines before) was an assignment from Big Sis’ counselor, so it’s like a prescription I’ve had to fill. It’s working well so far though.We started on Tuesday and are still going strong. The key is showering at night (I know, duh…but Big Sis, who hates showering seems to hate it a little less in the morning) and letting the kids have screen time if they complete their morning routines in a timely manner. We’ve been ready to go at about 7:40 am almost every morning.

If only I had the time and energy to pull together after-school and bedtime routines. Maybe next week.

We left the house to go to the bus stop only to be greeted by the sight and smell of hazy white smoke. None of the neighbors seemed to know where it was coming from, so since danger was not imminent, we moved on with our day.

Back in the house to wash Little Sis’ wet sheets. Of course, the washer and dryer were full, so I had to clear them out first. Then, I promised myself I’d exercise at least 15 minutes, but I was already running late to pick up Mom for her doctor’s appointment. I worked out anyway, considering it a deposit toward not having my kids drive ME to the kidney doctor when I’m Mom’s age.

By the time I’m showered, it’s 10 am. I call Mom to tell her I’m on my way. She reports that the smoke I smelled earlier was from a fire in a nearby apartment building; she saw a news report. Apparently some guy on the third floor was making eggs, and some grease caught fire. He threw water on it. Two hundred firefighters and 15 road construction crew-turned-rescuers later, the building was lost, but everyone got out safely. Also, I’ll have to wash my coat to get the smell of smoke out of it.

I picked up Mom. The intention was to go out to eat before her 11:30 am appointment (because Lord knows I have plenty to do without taking Mom out to eat afterward), but we didn’t have enough time for a sit-down restaurant. Activate Plan B: I ran into Panera and picked up bagels and coffee (organic chocolate milk for Little Sis) to hold us over until afterward. Twelve dollars later (!!), we were off.

We made it to the kidney clinic 20 minutes early. Fortunately, there’s a TV in the waiting room that Little Sis usually watches. Unfortunately, the volume no longer works (and hasn’t for two months).

It was a long wait.

Forty minutes later, we went next door to the kidney doc’s office. Mom was called back. I read 5 Disney princess books and played more rounds than I care to remember of “Can You Find A Picture of THIS in the Waiting Room Magazines?” Plus, the kidney doc complimented Little Sis’ boots.

Finally, Mom was done. A good visit; Mom was expecting the doc to start prepping her for dialysis, but her labs have looked good lately, so not yet. Whew! But now I have 3 new appointments to run Mom to: More dialysis clinic, another kidney doctor appointment, and a new rheumatologist (even though I REALLY like Mom’s old one. Don’t ask. I don’t get it either).

We let Little Sis pick the restaurant for lunch (she wanted the one with “the big chicken“). She ate spaghetti and Mom & I split a salad. By now it was 2:00 pm. I still had to stop at 2 stores, drive mom 20 minutes home, and get to the bus stop by 3:45 pm. Panic starts to set in.

Boom. Off to the pet store. Cat food, cat litter, and dog food (did I mention that we were so low on dog food this morning that the dog ate cat food for breakfast?).

Boom. Off to Sam’s Club. I had a LONG list of things WE needed from the store, but all I had time to get was Mom’s stuff. Grrrrr.

Boom. Back in the minivan to fight rush hour traffic (at 3 pm already?!?) back to Mom’s.

“You know,” said Mom, “I think YOU were the reason we’re running late today. You didn’t take a shower until after nine o’clock.”

I turned to stare at her.

“You mean after spending the entire day doing things for everybody else, I made an error in judgment spending 15 minutes on my elliptical machine this morning?!?”

I huffed, “Feel free to look for another ride next time. I guess you get what you pay for.”

I tried not to let it bug me, but obviously, it did.

Didn’t bug Mom, though. She’s hopped up on so much Lexapro that she’ll giggle like a schoolgirl at almost anything.

I dropkicked dropped Mom off, cramming the basket of her walker full of her purchases. She has a history of calling me and insisting she’s out of something and NEEDSITRIGHTNOW. Hopefully it’ll save me an emergency trip within 48 hours.

Back across town, fighting school bus traffic now. We made it and picked up Big Sis.

Now for the fun. Big Sis has her regular daily homework (which usually manages to fill up two hours on a good night), her science project (optional, been working on it for three weeks, and due Friday morning), an optional homework assignment (something about inventing a musical instrument out of household materials; she’s been harassing us to borrow pieces of my $2000 trombone and Mr. Hoagie’s flute and recorder), AND a Girl Scout Brownie meeting.

Somehow, she managed to pull it all off.

But it was a hell of a day. Capping off a hell of a week.

In comparison, tomorrow’s gonna be easy. Drop off Big Sis’ science fair project, volunteer at her school, pick up Little Sis, take my midterm exam for my online class, bake brownies for the science fair, pull a homemade meatless dinner out of my @ss, go to the science fair, and spend the rest of the night consoling Big Sis and rocking her to sleep when she doesn’t win (she has issues with competition).

Piece of cake.

I’m so fried.

Weighing in: Back in the Saddle Again

Well, I spent about 45 minutes doing Wii Fit this morning, which inspired Little Sis to do some herself.

Little Sis doing a Sun Salutation

Hey…it’s a start.

And that’s what I think they key is to a lot of healthy habits. The ability to start all over again. And again, and again.

I guess that’s what they call perseverence.

I used to work with a personal trainer. He was great. I learned a lot from him and lost about 60 pounds working with him (I’ve since put them all back on). But when I’d fall off the wagon, I’d hear about it. Which of course, is a big part of what I was paying him for: to keep me accountable.

But after he’d chewed me out, I’d start to climb out of the self-pity hole. “Hey,” I told him, “at least I’m getting good at starting over.”

He’d growl right back at me, saying that I never should’ve stopped to begin with.

But I think in this journey, one of the keys to success is being able to get back on that proverbial horse when you get knocked (or jump) off.

I have weigh in at my Weight Watchers meeting tonight. I go a bit out of my way to go to this particular meeting, because the leader is so amazing. She’s a great cheerleader, and when I have a bad week, she never makes me feel guilty. Just saddle back up and try again.

This week will be a bad week. A lot of emotional eating and general throwing caution to the wind. I did get on the elliptical a couple times, but not nearly enough to compensate for all the bad food choices I made this week.

I’ve noticed that I tend to do fine with food and exercise when Mom’s in the hospital (I tend to do a lot of stairs…especially when Mom was on the 13th floor!). It’s after she gets home that I blow it. When the stress level finally drops, that’s when I fall apart with my food choices, my exercise regimen, and I sometimes even get sick or acne breakouts.

At least I’ve noticed the pattern, right?

Here’s to breaking it.

Again.

What I Know For Sure

An open letter to myself:

Dear Sandwiched,

As you may know, you’ve been a bit erratic lately with your health. Stops and starts, beginnings that peter out, vows to yourself that are left broken and crushed, taking your psyche along for the ride.

Guess what? I just finished working out for the 3rd day in a row, and I feel great! I have energy, I can think more clearly and plan better. It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you don’t have to spend half the day beating yourself up for not working out and eating right.

What I know for sure: you need to find a way to exercise every day, because it’s all downhill from here. At 35, you’re no spring chicken. Remember that old knee injury from high school? Of course you do. Sometimes it aches before it rains. And the wrist injury from not watching your form while working out with that trainer? Still aches when I type. Oh, and then there’s that bursitis diagnosis from when your shoulder decided to try to help with the wrist thing because you didn’t take it seriously enough the first time.

And guess what I just ate? An apple. Just because I was hungry after my workout and it looked good. This from a girl who usually struggles to eat any fruits or vegetables all day. And then I ate some grapes, a few slices of orange, and an entire grapefruit. Weird, huh?

It might even be good for me.

And if you’re still not sure, take a good look at Chiquita: Miss Overweight, Coronary-Artery-Disease, Heart-Attack, Kidney-Failure, Needs-a-Walker, Can’t-Play-With-Her-Grandkids. That could be you in 35 more years.

Or not.

Suck it up, whiner. Get your ass in gear, girl.

Or else.

Cordially,

Sandwiched (the one that makes HEALTHY choices!)

Rally recap

Well, our little adventure Monday went remarkably well. I picked Little Sis up at school and stopped at home to get organized. We arrived at Chiquita’s in time for the end of her exercise class, and Little Sis got to collect everyone’s exercise bands and pass out Halloween treat bags. I left Little Sis in the dining room with Chiquita for lunch, praying that Little Sis would be “good” and that Chiquita wouldn’t have a bad day.

Another quick stop at home to pick up mittens and a sweater, and I was off to pick up Big Sis from school. We stopped at a convenience store for a bathroom break, a change of clothes for Big Sis (from a skort to long pants), and beverages for the road: pumpkin spice coffee for me, chocolate milk for her.

The rest of the drive was uneventful. We pulled off the ramp and headed toward Mellon Arena to see THRONGS of people lined up for blocks. It was what I expected, of course, but it made for a nice spectacle for Big Sis. I waited patiently in traffic, hoping I’d be directed to parking. Every lot I could see was packed. While I waited, I spotted a parking attendant waving cars into his lot, though the sign said “Full.” We pulled in, paid our $5.75, and were directed to a parking spot just a couple hundred yards from the door to Mellon Arena. Sweet.

We layered ourselves warmly, pulled on mittens and hoods, and filled our pockets (there were no bags allowed): Magic Tree House books for Big Sis, wallet, keys and cell phone for me. We locked the car and headed over to The Line. People were all facing downhill, so we trudged up the hill with dozens of other people, looking for the end of the line.

We found it two blocks later. Everyone lined up amiably and settled in to wait the last half hour before doors opened. I sipped my coffee, Big Sis pulled out her book. A few people wondered aloud whether we’d make it inside before the place filled up. Three college girls were in front of us, and a young family with a four-year-old boy and and 18-month-old girl were behind us. Volunteers buzzed by us, urging us to sign up for a shift to volunteer the last few days before the election. Perched near the top of a hill, the cold wind blew right through us.

I was accosted by a volunteer. I agreed to sign up, hoping I could volunteer at my polling place on Tuesday. Just as I finished filling out the form, the line started to move.

About an hour and about six blocks later, we stepped inside Gate Ten of Mellon Arena. “Don’t worry,” I told Big Sis, “I can see the metal detectors from here.”

We passed through security and followed the crowd up to the second level. We found seats halfway up on the aisle. We peeled off our layers and settled in to wait a while longer.

“How much longer, Mom?”

After reading a while, she saw other people with popcorn and hot dogs. ” Mom, I’l STARRRR-VING!”

She had promised not to get hungry until AFTER the rally. I’d packed snacks in the car.

So we left our coats as seatholders and headed back out to the concourse. She spotted the ladies’ room. So we stopped there. Then to the concession stand for popcorn. While we were in line, Obama’s warm-up act started: Sen. Bob Casey and Gov. Ed Rendell.

We got back to our seats in time to catch Dan Rooney, owner of the Pittsburgh Steelers, endorse Obama and present him with a Steelers jersey with “Obama 08″ on the back of it.

The crowd went wild. I half expected to see Terrible Towels.

Barack began his speech. I can’t say it was anything new; I’d heard him make similar points in news clips and sound bites. But the energy in Mellon Arena was incredible. Hope oozed out of the rafters.

A couple times I looked over at Big Sis to make sure she was getting all this. In the beginning, she was up on her feet cheering with the crowd. Then she stayed seated for a while. Moments later, her nose was back in her book. But hey…who can blame her? She’s seven. What does she care about tax policy?

All in all it was a great experience, and a good excuse for some mommy-daughter time. I’m hoping that one day she’ll be able to tell her children and grandchildren that “I was there when….”

I’ll post pictures when I can.

For more details, check out these links: Laurie did a recap here. There’s another one here.