The Creeper in the Trench Coat

Bear with me for a minute.  The title of this post may be a bit misleading.  Let me explain.

Today a friend of mine made a post on Facebook about her own struggles with eating and temptation.  I've thought about her post all day.  About how much her and I have in common.  In her post, she talked about her own struggles with emotional eating and how she is reading a book that is helping her work through some of that (I have the book on hold at our library now - it sounds amazing!).  Apparently, part of this book talks about personification of your temptations with food.  A while back there was a weight loss program that used an orange monster as the representation of temptation.  My friend talked about how she imagined a sexy man luring her in.

The more I thought about that concept, the clearer and clearer the image became in my mind of what my tempter looked like.  He looks like a creeper in a trench coat.  The kind of slimy guy you might see in a dark ally selling fake Rolex watches.  The guy in the movies that approaches you on the street and opens his coat to reveal shiny watches and diamonds and jewelry that you *know* are fakes or stolen but it doesn't mean you don't want to buy them.  But my tempter.  My creeper in a trench coat opens his coat to show me chocolate donuts, Big Macs, french fries, chocolate, and a whole host of other delicious temptations.  I know they are bad for me.  I know they are unhealthy.  I know the joy I would get from giving into the temptation would be fleeting and ultimately disappointing.  But just look at how shiny and available they are.  Right here.  So easy to just reach out and get it.

All day I've imagined this creeper following me around.  Some parts of the day he is still hidden in the ally, just peaking out waiting for the right opportunity to approach me.  Others (like in the grocery store and they had my FAVORITE chocolate cookies right there calling to me or at the baseball game with FREE ice cream and FREE concession stands) he is in my face begging me to buy one of his wares.  He is always there.  But with that image in my mind of this grungy guy about to flash me whatever is in his coat, it is almost laughable.

So yes, I am being followed by a creeper in a trench coat.  Every day.  Every minute of every day.

I am a compulsive eater.  I love food.  I love to eat when I am happy.  I eat when I am sad.  But I am working on that.  My creeper is going to stop fooling me.  Those things don't bring me happiness.  I mean sure, maybe for the moment it tastes good and all is right in the world.  But those bites end.  And I'm left with the same emotions I had before I started eating.  Plus the guilt of being ripped off and disappointed in myself.

It is now May.  I am 5 months into this year, and I thought I'd be a lot farther down on the scale than I am right now.  I am weighing in at 212.6 pounds.  Yikes.  That's almost exactly how much I weighed the day I delivered my oldest son.  Yes, I weigh the same today as I did 9 months pregnant then.  It's embarrassing.  I don't even recognize myself some days and I am so disguised with my body that I want to cry, and then say fuck it all and eat whatever the creeper is selling.

But no more.  Something has to change.

I am on week 4 of a new weight loss program through my insurance company.  It require weekly weigh ins (ha - so far I've gained 3 pounds), a weekly group meeting with a weight loss coach, and logging all my food and activity.  There are prescribed workouts, prescribed meals, and a whole host of other things that I am supposed to do to help me reach my goal.  I have 62 pounds to loose.  SIXTY. TWO.   That is about the same weight at my 7 year old.  I am carrying around an extra 7 year old with every step I take.

But I need to start saying no to my creeper.  Stand up to him.  Tell him to go away.  To stop following me so closely.  To get back into the dark ally where he belongs.  Because it's time for me to stop wasting myself and save up for the real Rolex.  The real diamonds.  The real me.

Cause baby, I'm worth it.

Empty Fridges and Financial Guilt

This is my fridge right now:

It is so empty.  And I am so excited!  My pantry is pretty bare bones too.  We could probably survive on PB&J for another couple days if we needed to, but tomorrow is grocery day.  I've been trying to do a monthly meal plan, and these last two weeks we have actually stuck to it!  I planned it out to use up as much stuff as we already had, and combined meals (ie roasting chicken one night, chicken quesadillas the next, soup with the chicken broth later that week) and this is all that is left.  I did have to go out and get a few things the other day like a head of lettuce and more milk, but for the most part this has been the most successful meal planning month so far!  Only a lone Cornish game hen and some frozen corn left in the freezer, and a few odds and ends and condiments in the fridge.  

Tomorrow's shopping trip is going to be a big one and the fridge will once more look full.  But my goal is to only buy stuff we *need* and is a part of our plan for the week.  It has really been helping to keep our grocery budget in check!  

Speaking of budget, our snowball hasn't been that big these last few weeks.  A lot of the overtime we normally count on has not been happening, so we've been scraping by to make ends meet, but we haven't had to dig into our baby emergency fund at all, so we're making it.  I keep dreaming about what it will be like to not have $1000/month in debt payments.  Between credit cards, medical bills, and our van payment, it just eats such a huge chunk.  Our goal is to have it all gone by spring of 2018.  Feels like an eternity away.  

But it will be worth it, right?  All that freedom?  Not having to check the bank account every time I need gas or groceries.  Not having to budget for going to McDonalds or field trips.  Lately I've been feeling really down about the opportunities we aren't able to provide for our kids.  The last few weeks a lot of our friends have been talking about summer camps.  It's all over the advertising space in town, local magazines have it on their front covers, *everyone* goes to summer camp, right?  Or at least that's how it seems.  My oldest has been pouring through those magazines picking out which ones he wants to go to.  I'd love to send him to the fancy acting camp he wants to go to ($250/week), or the overnight cub scout camp ($150 for 2 nights).  But it's just not in the budget.  I tell myself there will be plenty of chances for summer camp in a few years.  This is a sacrifice we all have to make so we can reap the benefits later.  But it feels so wrong to make my kids suffer for financial mistakes we made.  It's not fair for them.  (Neither is the $100/month I am paying for my oldest to go to Occupational Therapy once a week either.  But healthcare costs is a whole different post.....)  

We just gotta keep on keeping on.  

Mid-February Update

Here it is, the 19th of February.  And we're still going at it.  This is probably the longest we've ever stuck to a budget.  Usually we get frustrated when things don't work out and say "fuck it" and go back to exactly the way things were.  I guess that's probably how this problem got so bad.  But this time, it's real.  This time there is no choice in the matter - it needs to be done.

So far this year we have paid off $4,431!  In only a little over a month!  Granted, a huge chunk of that is from our Federal tax return, but still.  I've been seeing all these commercials pop up lately about "have more fun with your taxes."  It kinda pisses me off, because that's what I *want* to do - go buy some new toys.  Instead ours went directly to medical bills, paid off the gutters, paid off our Lowes credit card, and the rest went towards our Amazon credit card.  Oh well.  Live like no one else now so I can live like no one else later, right?  And that doesn't even include the baby ememergency fund we were able to start.  Just in case - because we all know our family has a lot of "just in cases."  Just two weeks ago little guy ended up in the ER after getting his finger closed in the door.  It was gross.  There went $150 for sitting in the ER for six hours, some surgical glue, and a referral to a hand specialist.   It's always something in our house.

The decluttering is going well too.  I've been donating/selling stuff like a crazy person.  What's strange is, no matter how much I get rid of, it never seems like we have more room.  Something else always seems to take it's place.  I don't get it.  We aren't BUYING anything, so where is all this stuff coming from?!!  But we certainly haven't missed the stuff we've gotten rid of.  Even the kids don't even seem to notice that a lot of stuff is gone.  I think the huge train table taking up space in our living room is next.  No one has played with it for at least a month and I could easily get a good $50 out of it.  I'm thinking save some of the track pieces and a few trains and call it a day.  Fifty bucks is a good chunk of change and it would definitely free up some space!

The eating and loosing weight, is well, stagnant at best.  But I guess you can't win them all.  It's a journey and a process and all that crap people say.  Mostly, I just suck.  And I'm stressed and anxious and an emotional eater.  So I eat.  But I'm trying to work on that.

Giving Up Doing it Alone

Just a little check-in and some therapeutic journaling from me tonight. 

Today is January 24th.  Twenty-four days into our new year, our new plan, our new us.  We are *almost* done with the first baby step of the Dave Ramsey fund and by this time next week we should have the last of our baby emergency fund and start snowballing our debt.  We also got our W2 forms back this week, so we are ready to rock out our taxes and add that refund into the mix as well.  So far, so good on that front!  We've had a couple slip-ups in our budget, but nothing major and are still mostly on track in every category except groceries.  And good heaven - how much food does a seven year old boy need to eat?!?!  By cutting out our eating out we have been going through food like crazy.  Apparently I had no clue how much food we really eat over the course of a month.  Right now I have about $4 left in my grocery envelope for the month, and need to go shopping.  But we almost made it!  Next month I'm going to have to be a bit more generous while creating the budget!

I've also been doing pretty good about getting to the Y.  I have really started to look forward to the nights I am able to get away and go for a run.  I turn on my playlist and put on headphones and for 30 blissfull minutes no one is talking to me or touching me.  It's just me, my music, and the hum of the treadmill.  I *love* it.  It's almost therapeutic after the chaos of the day. 

I also have given up something else - I've given up thinking I can fix my oldest child.  We have suspected there was something not normal about him since he was a toddler when he would punch himself in the face when he was frustrated, and the way he only walked on his toes, and the meltdowns.  Oh, the meltdowns.  He is seven now and still has a lot of anger issues and gets set-off really easily over things and struggles.  He struggles so much with not knowing how to control his body.  He just vibrates around the house, and when he is angry he is 65 pounds and 4 feet of uncontrollable energy.  He just doesn't know or understand how to help himself.  Lately the biggest struggle has been clothes.  He has gone through four pairs of shoes in the last six months because he insists they need to be tied so tightly that the little holes where the laces go break.  He *hates* wearing jeans because they make him feel "unsafe"  (his words, not mine) and insists on wearing a belt as tight as humanly possible - except not in the car.  Because if the belt and the seat belt are on at the same time, that is also unsafe.  And if the seat belt is not tight enough - unsafe.  And if his shoes aren't tight enough - unsafe.   He is very bright and gifted, so we've always just chalked his quirks up to being a misunderstood genius, but the time has come to admit that I need help.  I give up trying to do it on my own.  Trying to meet his needs.  On Tuesday we go for an evaluation for Occupational Therapy.  We suspect that he has Sensory Processing Disorder, but if I'm being honest here I'm still not sure he doesn't fall somewhere on the Autism Spectrum.  I'm not really sure what I'm hoping will come out of his evaluation, or what they will even be able to do for me.  Sometimes I wonder if it is nothing but bad parenting on my part.  But if that's the case - wouldn't all three kids be like this?  They all have their not-so-desirable qualities, but don't we all?  My oldest is in a league of his own.   So Tuesday we go get someone else's opinion on my own kid.  I hate admitting that I can't do it anymore.  I don't know what to do to help my own child.  I am his MOM.  I am supposed to be the one with the "magic mommy kisses"  (that's what he used to call them) that can save the world.  I haven't been able to do anything to help him in months.  It's a daily struggle to just make it through the day till bedtime without walking out the door.  I love that kid more than life itself, but something needs to give.  And hopefully we are on our way to getting the help he needs. 

I know it's only 24 days into the program we have set for ourselves, but I am realizing each day that this is no quick fix.  This is a process.  And it's going to be a while before we are going to be able to come out on the other side of the mess we've made. 

If you're there, God, I could really use some help. 

I Give Up.

I give up. 

I've said those words a lot in recent years.  "I give up trying to be skinny."  "I give up trying to get out of debt"  "I give up trying to make my kids behave."  "I give up."  And honestly in my darkest days I have actually thought about giving it all up.  Just walking out the door and never coming back.  Leaving the kids, my husband, our house, our debt all behind and just starting over.  Sometimes starting over just feels easier.  Washing your hands of it all at once and starting fresh, a new slate.

But giving up is never the answer.

This is the year I give up the little things to gain the big things.  I know, how cliche - starting all this in the new year.  I know how many New Years Resolutions fail.  I know how many of *my* resolutions fail.  But I also know how much I cannot afford to let this one.

On the outside, we look like we live a good life.  And really, we do.  I am super blessed with three beautiful, spunky, smart children.  I have a dedicated, hard-working, good-looking husband.  We own a home in the suburbs in a great town - top 5 of our state!  I run a mostly successful photography business.  We homeschool our children.

But if you look underneath you might see a different story.  We are more than $50,000 in debt.  We have no savings.  I am 210 pound housewife who gets through the day by eating secret stashes of chocolate hidden in the freezer.  I feel like my world is spiraling out of control around me.  We suspect my oldest child has Sensory Processing Disorder and some days are a constant battle of meeting his needs while neglecting the needs of everyone else.  And let's not even get started on my inability to keep up with the housework.

But this year I give up.

I give up stuff - less stuff means less to clean up.  Less in storage.  Less clutter.  Less to move one day.  I am mostly following the KonMari method of decluttering.  I have been doing this off and on for the last year and every batch of stuff that makes its way to the garbage or Goodwill I feel a little more weight off my shoulders.  But I still have a long way to go, so this year I will give it up.

I give up spending.  All the debt didn't create itself overnight (well, that huge car loan kinda did.  But that's another story) and neither will getting rid of it.  Our goal is to cut that number by half this year.  And that won't be easy.  That is a LOT of money.  But once it is all gone it will mean a LOT of freedom!  Dave Ramsey to the rescue.  We have our budget and it is bare bones.  But sacrifice now will reap the benefits later.  Live like no one else now so you can live like no one else later, right?  So I give up.  I give up eating out, I give up frivolous purchases, I give up retail therapy.  I give it up.

I give up focusing on the number on the scale.  I know I need to loose weight, but every time I step on that scale it sends me into a spiral of "why do I even bother?".  Three kids, three c-sections, and 8 years of putting their needs first has taken it's toll on my body.  I weigh the same today as I did the day I gave birth to my oldest.  And I'm not pregnant.  Running a 5K is something I've always wanted to do, but I haven't even ran as much as a mile since I was in college.  But this year I give up feeling week.  Feeling like I "can't".  Because I CAN.  Maybe not tomorrow, but with work it will happen.  So I give up lazy afternoons on the couch.  I give up the excuses.  I give up feeling unworthy of taking time for myself.  I give it up.

I give it all up.