Yes, I Cried While Watching, But...

My son and I watched the Michael Jackson Memorial today. Yes, I cried--but for different reasons.

My sweet, sensitive 13-year-old was at summer camp when MJ passed. I had forgotten, but some of the big jokes at summer camps for boys his age are Michael Jackson jokes. When the counselors told the boys that MJ died, my son got upset that they continued the jokes. He thought it was disrespectful. That's my son for you.

So I introduced my son to Michael Jackson's music. Took me back, I didn't realize how much I liked his music and how it has touched my life. I was a senior in high school when Thriller came out. I didn't buy many records, but I bought that.

Anyway, I was very sad today. Sad that a man so young, so talented passed away. However, today was sad for me because it was the 16th anniversary of my mom's passing.

She had a heart attack in front of me on the 4th of July, 1993. She lapsed into a coma and never awoke. Strangely, she was recovering from a quadruple bypass and when she passed out, I thought she was having a seizure or a diabetic seizure. It wasn' until the paramedics arrived that I realized what it was. My dad sat there holding hands watching in terror.

Mom's loss shook my world more than anything up to that point. I was devastated for a couple years, until my son was born.

Before her death, I was in the 170s weight wise and feeling very frustrated being so fat. Within weeks after her death, I shot up to the 220s. I never recovered with my weight. I did briefly make it to the 190s in 2001 when I did Weight Watchers, but stress set me off again and I ballooned up to 282.5.

It took many years to work through the guilt--had I only done CPR, maybe she could have been saved. I am at terms with it, and I know it was God's will, it was her time. I no longer have guilt over it.

The 4th of July celebrations are always difficult to me. Anniversaries get me, and to this day, I miss my mom.

Fast forward 15 years, last spring my dad had a heart attack in front of my son. It was identical to mom's. This time I knew what it was, and my brave son and I got him to the floor, and were just about to start CPR when the paramedics walked in. Dad lived a couple months, and passed away in May. I miss him tremendously.

When we cleaned out their home last summer, I realized that mom had been alive in my heart all these years because except for the dining room and messy kitchen, dad kept the house identical. He didn't change a thing. So when I went home, I was surrounded by mom in spirit.

Cleaning out the house was traumatic for me, as I had to say good-bye to both. It was so final.

I often wonder why, out of four children, I was the one that witnessed both heart attacks. My sister told me it was because she wasn't strong enough, and I was. I laugh at that, because I was not strong. The paramedics called the police after dad's heart attack. The doorbell rang, there stood an officer, and he walked in the house, had me sit on the couch, and he just talked with me. He told me the paramedics said I was so upset and distraught they knew I needed someone to be with me.

If I'm so damned strong, why did I develop an anxiety disorder after dad's heart attack. That's when I had my first massive panic attack, a couple days after dad's attack, I was in the hospital room two doors down thinking I was dying. Why do I close my eyes and see his heart attack, and his final weeks replaying like a movie, over and over. Why did this stir me so that I absolutely ached for my mom again.

Why do I today, a year and four months later, still have panic attacks. Nope, I'm not strong. It's just my warped way of coping. As Marlon Jackson said today at Michael's memorial, "I hurt." So do I, so do I.

So back to mom. I was 28 when she died. Today I'm 44. I've learned a lot in that time, I've grown, I've matured, I've gained wisdom. I know that she had a lot of issues, I know she was plagued by depression and other issues. I know my anxiety issues came from mom. I went 360 degrees with my feelings toward mom. At one point I was very angry with her, when I figured out how messed up she was. Now I'm back to the beginning. She was my mom. She was human, perfectly imperfect. She made mistakes. I forgave her. Now I miss her. No one loves you like your mother loves you.

I am loved deeply by my husband and son. The love from my mother was different, though, and irreplaceable. I miss that. I miss her.

I love you, mom.

Menu Planning Week 21

Menu Planning Week 21

1-Roast, mashed potatoes, salad
2-Crockpot chicken and stuffing, salad
3-Nachos: refried beans, Baked Tostitos, ground beef, salsa, nacho cheese, lettuce, etc.
4-Egg McMuffins, hash browns, fresh fruit
5-Crockpot creamy Italian chicken, brown rice, salad
6-Burgers, baked fries, salad, fresh fruit

Breakfast: the usual (Kellogg's Complete and Fiber One)
Lunch: Sandwiches, salad, fresh fruit, sometimes baked chips
Snacks: fresh fruit, air-popped popcorn, Fiber One cottage cheese

Kitchen Pretties

I recently bought new kitchen dishes. For 20 years, we have been using our all-white Corelle dishes. They were really starting to show their age, with scratches on the plates and little chips here and there.





I love vintage! A 50s kitchen with modern conveniences added in is my ultimate goal. I had been searching Corelle's website and found two patterns I liked, but I was saving up for the purchase. I like Corelle because they're thin and don't take up much room in the dishwasher or cupboards.





One night I was alone at Wal-mart and decided to go through the kitchen aisle. Imagine my surprise when I found one of the patterns I liked on sale! I snapped them up.

Notice the two small bowls with no pretty red rings? I figured it would be nice to down-size the size of our bowls. The smallest is a ramekin. I live under a rock, I had never heard of a ramekin before.

We use the two small bowl sizes all the time. I bought four of each, and I plan on getting four more as they're always dirty. The ramekin is perfect for holding a half cup of many things. My husband uses it for his snack bowl. My son uses it for the same. I use it for side dishes during dinner on my plate. A a full bowl looks more inviting on my plate than food sitting on the plate. It reminds me of my trips to Furr's Cafeteria as a child.

We used to use the big bowls all the time. Not uncommon to fill it about halfway for morning cereal. Not anymore. The only thing we use those big bowls for now is salad!

It's silly, but having smaller bowls has made a big difference. (I just wish they came with a red ring!) I don't feel deprived when I get a bowl full of something. Of course I enjoy the vintage-y plates as well. When my husband first saw the plates, he said, "Wow, these look like they belong in a 50s diner." Yay, that's what I was going for.

Gulp

I have invited my husband to read my blog. I have to admit it, I'm green with envy that Kelly's husband reads and comments on hers.

Hubby asked what he should call me, what do I call him. I said hubby, so he said wifey. Nooooo, that will never do. Then he thought it would be funny to call me JoJo. Uh-huh, nope, not gonna work. I put the kabosh on JoJo when I was a teenager, I even told my grandmother to knock it off--politely, of course. For the record, she did. Almost everyone in the immediate family quit calling me JoJo. I do still get it from cousins, and it still makes my skin crawl. I told him to just call me what he normally calls me, duh, Jo.

I was a little worried about inviting him to read. Will I change what and how I write? Will he get the struggles I'm having? Shoot, he gets the struggles, as I'm a Wendy Whiner. It will be interesting.

He just read the tarp post and laughed and we talked about it again. He also saw the photo I posted of my son and I and thought that was pretty funny.

Kind of weird to have my best friend along for the ride in cyberspace when he's two feet from me.

Monday Morning Weigh-In

248 -2 from last week!

Wow, out of the 250s!!

I'm happy this morning!

Folding a Tarp: The Story of Our Marriage

Today I asked hubby to clean the garage with me. While my son mowed, we set out to get the task done. No, we didn't finish, but made a good dent. Another weekend and we'll have 'er whipped.

Hubby and I just think so differently. All through our marriage, we've bickered because we are so different. Today, no bickering, I picked up a big tarp and asked him to help me fold it. I have no idea why he had a tarp out to begin with--I just don't understand his thinking.

We went outside and spread the tarp out. One side is blue, the other brown. As we picked up the corners, I had the brown side out, he had the blue. We made eye contact but didn't say anything. I dropped the tarp and started over with the blue side out to match. Then we had to fold. He folded to the left, I folded the opposite direction. Again, we made eye contact but said nothing. This time he twisted so it matched mine.

Then we finished the folding the tarp. By this time we were standing next to each other. Again, we made eye contact and I couldn't hold it in, I bust out laughing. So did he! We were thinking the same thing: We are polar opposites. Without saying a word, we are polar opposites.

He's an Atkins kind of guy, I'm a low-fat Weight Watchers gal. He's science, I'm liberal arts. He's Taco John's, I'm Taco Bell. He's fairly fit. I'm not--yet.

Given all that, we'll be celebrating our 20th anniversary in September.

Today I was thinking how stuck in a rut we are with our food--our dinners. We don't try new recipes, we eat the same old thing. He's a meat and potatoes kind of guy, I'm an Italian or Mexican lover. I make our menus to please each of us, which is why we are so stuck in a rut. The foods we both like are few and far between. If I have to eat Crockpot Cheeseburgers one more time this summer, I think I'll scream. I love them, but eating them week after week after week gets old, quick. I'm sure he feels the same about some of my chicken recipes.

We're an old fuddy-duddy couple. But it works. I wouldn't have it any other way. Even if he does fold the tarp wrong. ;-)

T-Bones

Yesterday my hubby thawed some t-bone steaks for supper. I had no idea how point unfriendly they were.

3 oz. = 5 points
4 oz. = 7 points
5 oz. = 9 points

I had 3 ounces. May I just say, 3 ounces of a t-bone steak is a few bites. It was tiny! Smaller than a deck of cards.

He had picked up some bakers at the store. The old way we used to eat: buy bakers, smother them with butter and sour cream. Bakers are what we call giant potatoes for baking. I weighed my potato and it came in at 14 ounces. That was 7 points without anything on it. I sliced it down and had a 4-point potato with some fat-free sour cream. Still huge, but more friendly.

We had a salad to round things out.

While the steak tasted heavenly, as did the potato, it was an unsatisfying meal. Even with the salad, which I am really enjoying now, I just felt unfulfilled, let down.

I love learning on this journey. Next time he pulls out t-bones, I think I'll get a chicken breast out for me. Much more meat for the points, much more filling.

We are whittling down the beef in our freezer. I need to go inventory it and plan meals accordingly. While I still love beef, I prefer the leaner, more point-friendly cuts where I feel full after eating. Not sick full, but satisfied.

I know we will never buy a side of beef again. While it has been wonderful having the meat in the freezer, so many were cuts we wouldn't ordinarily buy. I'm anxious to clean the freezer out and start picking and choosing and stocking up at the store.

No more t-bones for me! By choice! =)