Tag: #silverwithstories

Posted on in grey hair, life, sixty

Almost A New Zero…

My next zero is big. Very. I am the second oldest on my campus. That’s weird. Half of my brain misses my grandson to the point of wanting to retire and move closer now. The hubs can come later. The other side of my brain realizes a proper retirement is important. I fear illness, death, and being without my bestfriend. Note: I am healthy and he is sitting next to me, but you get it. If you do not, you are in the wrong age category. I am not done. My kid still needs my direction. I need to see his completeness. I need to see so much of my nugget and their life together. My drive for health works 2/3 rds of the day, but on a daily basis. Winning. My worst part of the day or week, the weekend. That drink looks great, unhealthy food can be split at restaurants making it ok, right? A few crackers. Ok. Too much sleep after getting the house in shape for the next week. Yikes.

For all those with cleaning help, I truly am jealous, and even if I don’t know you. I hate you. My body, my back, and the arthritis in my hands has earned you. My teachers paycheck. Nope. But my 2/3rds is taking me in the right direction. Losing weight, moving and not re-injuring, and going as carb and sugar-free as life is meant to be. I am proud and still going in the right direction in the best possible way, I think my habits, hard fought for, are necessary and now easy. Sans the weekends as my recovery mode from the week and house stuff makes eating more of a feel good rather than an eat good. The step of recognition is huge and shows that my evening work of building good habits will transfer to the weekends, as the first step was recognition. The second desire, that zero, and the third seeing life in general with a skip in my step.

Gotta couple months left. I am ok with comfy shoes, a few Chico outfits as they cover certain areas well, just not all my outfits. Thank you. Ok, with getting stronger everyday and being able to take a minute just to rest to gain strength for my week in the trenches. Valentine’s Day, with 7th grade, is on its way and that is truly like all holidays rolled into one! But still not ok with saying the new number. It’s big. Gonna start now perhaps it will be a bit easier as the clock sticks the witching hour on my day.

Posted on in echelon, health, Peloton, weight loss, weight watchers

No Basket, Flowers, or Outside Air. Just 200 Rides.

No fanfare. Just pride. You see, I don’t fall off my combo Echelon/Peloton system. Onto 300 rides which I will hit before my 60th and pondering the real Peloton for my 60th. I deserve it! Easily. Entering the rare live class will be a treat and truly just a hunt for a shout-out. One can hope. But even without the children shouting my name, it will be a victory. Weight comes and goes but fitness or heck, just movement, lasts a lifetime. As for the extra handles and such they are departing at a snails pace but going in the correct direction. A slimmer self and the utter joy my rides bring to me, is all I can ask for in this, my fitness life. Plus the real Peloton. Besides the echelon needs to make a trip up North so I don’t miss my summer rides.

Posted on in fitness, goals, granparent life, health, intermittent fasting, keto, life, sugar-free, weight loss, weight watchers

Cortisol

Cortisol, a word I never used until this year. It should be the eighth dirty word. It is a sneaky bugger that wreaks havoc on women. Have we not had enough life changes in our fifty plus years. A fat gut, while living on lettuce and air is no reward that feels worthy for the pain of child-birth or the menstrual suffering. We deserve better. I suggest shoes and a new bag, or two, to ease into the depths of cortisol, as no one escapes this misery.

Technically, “Cortisol is a steroid hormone, in the glucocorticoid class of hormones. When used as a medication, it is known as hydrocortisone. It is produced in many animals, mainly by the zona fasciculata of the adrenal cortex in the adrenal gland. It is produced in other tissues in lower quantities.” Or “Cortisol, the primary stress hormone, increases sugars (glucose) in the bloodstream, enhances your brain’s use of glucose and increases the availability of substances that repair tissues. Cortisol also curbs functions that would be nonessential or harmful in a fight-or-flight situation.”In simple terms it is a regulator of stress. More stress, more cortisol and more sugar and weight. Told you it was a bad word.

The basic symptoms of cortisol imbalance are the following:

  1. Weight gain, especially in your face and abdomen.
  2. Fatty deposits between your shoulder blades.
  3. Wide, purple stretch marks on your abdomen (belly).
  4. Muscle weakness in your upper arms and thighs.
  5. High blood sugar, which often turns into Type 2 diabetes.

In essence if you are in menopause or postmenopausal, you fall into this category, and are struggling with the physical and emotional effects. For the weary there is little sleep, weight gain, emotions out of wack, and the feeling that you do not belong in any category of clothes as your age and body don’t match. You feel out of sorts. Everyday. There is no cure. Only to try to balance your system out with the correct diet and exercise. Now, while I profess to trying every diet in existence, and recently a fasting gig, that made me feel a longing for coffee creamer in my sad black coffee that I could not get down. I know life is not a diet. They don’t work. It is consistently eating well plus movement thst equals less weight and overall health. The diets are just fads that give us the illusion that our weight gained through last night’s pizza or hormone imbalance is possible. With work, patience, and putting diets on the shelf and embracing the concept of eating for our age and our bodies.

Not a paid promotion but just began Metabolic Renewal. I am on week one but love the support group and learning that I am not alone as I tread the waters of an almost carb free and sugar free life, oh and exercise. So far, I feel more energetic. I will take that for a win. As for the scale, we broke up, not sure we will have date again. Possibly, in a few weeks. https://www.metabolicrenewal.com/

Posted on in fitness, health, weight loss, weight watchers

Dieting Teacher in the Kitchen

In my last blog, I mentioned I would be using Boca hamburgers or chicken for this week for my lunch. I chose the chicken this week. An amazing cooking hack was my air fryer. Dump them in and twenty minutes later they are ready to cool and store in ziplocs for the week. Perfection. Next week, I will cook my burgers the same way. Simple is key. BTW the faux chicken is great. I tasted a small corner. So, I am winning on protein but consuming less fat. Goals.

Today, I also created my weight watchers ramen chicken for a couple dinners. It’s ok. Edible. Under seven points with 1/2 cup of noodles but a bit bland. Not sure the hubs will eat it. I tried. So, while lunch for the week is a winner…dinner eh. Here is the recipie. You will do much better. Why because I forgot a couple needed ingredients. Cornstarch, brown sugar, and rice vinegar. Why? I used a sugar free sauce that I thought would do the trick. Nope. Stick to directions.

https://keepingonpoint.com/2021/07/07/chicken-teriyaki-ramen/

Perhaps, it was just the quiet of the day but I made Weight Watcher carrot muffins. Amazing. Now, mine fell apart. But still amazing. I highly recommend. Below is the recipie from Drugstore Divas. Of course, only mine collapsed and stuck to the muffin tin to the point that they look like tiny tops of muffins, that appear shredded. But they are good. Obviously, my skill or patience lacks.

https://www.drugstoredivas.net/carrot-cake-weight-watchers-muffins-1-points-plus-value/

So, while I have no particular talent in the kitchen, I am cooking or at least trying. My hubs did deny my ramen dinner but I am used to that. Later this week I am making meatloaf. He won’t deny that and with five points between the ground beef, pet milk, and lipton onion mix. It is yummy.

So, I am trying and will share my meatloaf concoction along with my first week of eating healthy and sticking to my points on my next blog. Keep following!

Posted on in echelon, fitness, goals, health, weight loss

Nooming Part 2

I am back on Noom. I left. I did. Which makes this post worthy of a prize or an escalated Noom blogger award. 🤔 I left because I could do this on my own. Suddenly cocky with eight pounds gone. This was my inner thought and money saving idea. Suddenly after fighting since childbirth (thirty-one years ago) I could do this alone and save the money and annoying check-ins from my personal person or bot. Not sure which, but in this age of technology and with eight pounds lost, why did I care, if there is a real face with my consults? I don’t. Eight pounds lost and now eight pounds gained left to my own devices and fell through a mushroom cloud of stress and the outward “I am O.K” that I gave out to my world aka my seventh grade classroom.

I am back. Why? Noom works. There I said it. It really does for those that need their hands held while foods, friends, stress, and life let us down. Noom works.

So onward with the color system, quizzes, and chat check-ins with my mysterious coach or a brilliant bot. Again, who knows or cares. Weight loss is about buy-in, desire, cheerleaders galore, recipies or direction etc. After you find that in your form, whatever that looks like, the rest is up to you.

Thank you Noom. I have come back to shake the weight for good and reap the benefits for myself and my family which is priceless.

Now I have to learn to cook, better. Much better. Got an app for that? Readers if interested head over to Noom. No, I am not paid. It just works. Feel free to share, follow, and of course like if health and weightloss is your “jam.” Be on the lookout for more from me as I dive deep into essays on my successes and failures to keep me on the straight and narrow. And as always be prepared for the truth and a chuckle. https://www.noom.com

Posted on in back pain, caregiver, education, grey hair

The Sound of Silence

The days before the actual “first day” of school are the most precious and set the tone for my mental game, as I gear up for the year. The utter silence not only in my room but throughout the hallways, only to be interrupted by teacher chatter, hugs, and rushing feet from one room or meeting to another quietly emulate a natural high as reality has not hit. Kids. Paperwork. Rules. My plans are for obvious perfection and is the bubble of  life if only for a fleeting few days. It is then that schedules sound possible, discipline will be a breeze, and dress codes sound reasonable as jean days are put on the chopping block. It’s ok, we should dress up. Then week three hits and it hits hard. Suddenly, the quiet is replaced with chaos because the moving pieces are coming fast. It is a teachers life. It is precious but mentally and physically draining on a level few others feel.

Then it hits. It’s a stamicane, my own word for a stampede plus hurricane. Kids making their way down our halls breaking the blissful silence. First, the utter excitement is contagious but by week three “When is fall break” is my number one on the playlist on my mind, on repeat. With break approaching, I had a literal physical break after dealing with hospice, moving my mother out of an assisted living and into another assisted living. And yes, she is thriving, thanks to hospice. Try that. For nine weeks when you must put on a happy face, everyday. This is why teaching is a young persons game. The young do not have big life issues straight out of school. I broke physically and mentally. Mrs. Tough had her comeuppance. I divided my kids, with no tears and made it to the doctor with a full on ugly cry in the waiting room. But I made it. I spent the next two days feeling guilty for missing work and now the next few days of break in recovery and enjoying the simple sound of silence. It brings me pause and a true reflection of important issues and allows me to shake off the crazy. Not my kids. All the other educational nuttiness which does not fit on one blog post alone. It is more volume based. Truly.

The quiet of break and the reflection of my first days of school brings clarity for the busy that the remainder of fall brings. My thoughts of perfection have been replaced with my pacing guide, test scores, and a newspaper to churn out. The test scores are the sad reality portion but a truth that leaves my competitive soul always hungry for more but steeped in the reality of who my students are and where can they go in this school year. It is a balancing act. Journalism keeps me happy and if I ever get social studies again as a subject area, thrilled. Hiring for 8th grade civics. Give me a call. As my wounds mend and my own inner changes readied to implement continuous healing without another major setback. I remember that in the quiet I take to heal it is my own stamina and ability to block out the storm that brings me my success on a daily basis, where it counts. With kids.

Posted on in family, granparent life, grey hair, life

Thirty-four Years of Bliss

When you only feel thirty-four years old, how can I have been married for thirty-four years? Is this possible? Please note the bliss is relative based on the day and recently the price of gas. But the fact that we have withstood trials and tribulations for over three decades creates a moment of pure reflection and wonder. Are we truly kindred spirits or do we just not give up. I believe the latter. Even soul mates drift apart. Marriage is work. Yes, we have our moments of romance but those are interrupted by the reality of day to day life.

After the decades you start floundering for gifts. Even cards quite don’t say it perfectly. As a family we have it all and the extraneous stuff is just stuff for instagram moments. You know, the nauseating ones, that make you feel like the posters are that happy daily. Nope. Don’t get me wrong I love jewelry and any fancy gift but often reality wins. This year I came up with a BBQ for the win and a special gift of family. Let me explain the latter as you understand the concept of the BBQ.

Well, it started with a trip to Prescott and no gift or card for me, the wife. I disguised my anger and kept up with the day. Then I saw my gift. He is three and my buddy. Day made. Anniversary made. All forgiven. We had a fabulous weekend of family, church, and getting to be part of our buddies baby to grown up room transistion. I love to spoil everyone I know. It’s my thing. Years ago the hubs parents bought our nursery and the big boy room furniture. Just because. We did the same. Just because. So, no jewelery or fancy new bag. Just the reality of life in the best possible way!

Posted on in chronic pain, fitness, goals, sugar-free

Sugar-free and Me

I have tried alot of methods to lose weight and some have worked. Actually, worked well. Of course, mixed with an active lifestyle. One that failed not once but twice was keto. Not me. But with my recent health setback and literally from active to a coach potato by necessity, I need some change. I needed some research both to keep me busy and my own convincing to take the plunge, well the second plunge. I did this once with success and just went off. No reason. It was easy and felt great. So here we go…sugar-free is me…is now born.

My reasoning is completely to decrease inflammation. Which is still present. The absence of sugar is key as the white stuff spikes inflammation. Bye. Now, I could bore you with data. But not my style. Just enjoy my meandering stories and real life messages. Saying ciao is hard. I had pizza last night and quietly chewed our breakup story. I am ready. My life in the absence of pain will win and be my constant reminder along with societies vast array of sugar free choices if a sauce or an ice cream is truly needed. As for bread hello, ezkiel…and I love it. In moderation. I am good but it will be tough. I began today and promptly ordered supplements for sauces and chips. Sauces from Primal and G Hughes, carrots, cottage cheese instead of flavored yogurt, and Rx bars instead of premier protein etc, etc, etc. Just a bit of shopping adds combined with some everyday needs will make this tasty life without misery. #goals

On any road taken no one is perfect and I will not be. Nope. I will travel, learn, explore, investigate, concoct recipies until I get this right.

And I will…

Posted on in family, life

Love

I have never been a cook. Nope. It is a running joke in our home. This has never bothered me as I learned the craft from my Sylvia. She had the love but not the touch. My grandfather and I just smiled and lied through our meals, as she enjoyed cooking just had zero ability. But oh, the lady could sew, clean, and wash clothes like nobody’s business. But cook. Nope. For some reason she raised me to think I did not need home skills. So I have none. I meander my way through our daily needs with exasperation and the wish of a fairy godmother. Thirty-three years later I do my best. No one complains but they do avoid my cooking. It’s ok. Enter the air fryer. Now, I am a gadget queen. Anything that makes life easier I am on it. We have vacuums and mops that wander our home and I replenish them with the newer models asap. They break. Easily. But the air fryer is a gift from the heavens as my cooking is now tolerable. The hubs is using phrases like, “let’s put this meal on repeat.” Yup, repeat. In all our years a second of anything has never been requested. So, my air fryer and I are on the best of terms. Meat, a bit of oil and spice plus the right settings and we have dinner. I even chopped the other night. That does not happen. But I did. I love my new friend. I named her Sylvia. I truly believe if my grandmother had this golden device she would have rocked our nightly meals.

Posted on in back pain, chronic pain, family, life, retirement

306 Days

Let’s first explain the title. I am taking this rather random number based on my physiotherapist’s ramblings on how long it takes to heal a back that is herniated. Tah-dah a title is born. Of course, the number might be wrong as I was medicated at this first meeting. Or is it? This back disaster is my current state combined with vertigo. I got super lucky. Weeks later, I can chuckle a bit and feel a bit of pride to be the star of an EMT horror story of difficult patients. Let me explain, while riding in the ambulance after having my husband stuff me with a protein bar, because he thinks water plus protein cures all ills, I vomited everywhere. Everywhere. Several times. On a happy note the hubs scrubbing forced his hand to promise me new flooring. Of course, a request since year two in the house, but heck eight years later is great. Back to the story. So, this sweet EMT, who sported a training badge, kept rattling on with stupid stories, that were keeping me from killing all of them in pursuit of pain meds. Anyhow, he held my vomit bag the entire way to the hospital. At our goodbyes. I thanked the kid and grabbed the captain and asked him to sign his papers and pass him for the day. Or did I ask for meds? I don’t know? Probably both. The captain promised he would happily sign him off as he peeled my hand out of his and yelled, “Take her away.”

Currently, I am on week five or day 271 of my current holding position of rest, PT, and more rest. I am off all meds that caused me to forget what I read, watched, re-read, and re-watched during my time of bedridden status. With the pain away but in a wet- cement state, I wait. I wait to start my life again. I am on pause. I long for the simplicity of my life that I led. I teach. I miss my kids. I spin. I miss my Echelon/Peloton app life. I am stuck in the house because I can’t drive due to the back and the vertigo. I miss people. But with all the things I miss there is so much more I have learned in the silence of my waiting. Serious thoughts have come my way while crying in pain. Religion. The importance of family. Work and my need for my social and intellectual growth plus monetary needs. Along with the harsh truth that I am easily replaced, especially at fifty-nine. There were also thoughts that can be filed under the not so serious. Cue the meds folks. Days of reality TV nonsense, movie upon movie, and many attempts at new binge shows. Note. Not a Bridgerton fan. Probably the only human who could not get through episode 1. All I could think of was the pain the actresses endured with their corsets. While the mundane entertained my mind, it was the big thoughts, that truly got me through the day. Not my twelve orders of athletic wear to make dressing easier or the endless scrolling and the constant attempt to find anything to take my mind of the situation at hand. Nope. The big stuff. Religion, family, and work. Repeat. It made the struggle of each day and each small success sweet.

Religion became my anchor. I prayed, read scripture, and talked alot to the man upstairs. I felt his presence, cried, and kept praying. For the first time I felt his guiding hand. Truly, in the darkness of our room I was not alone. Ever. This gave me hope and a feeling that my herniated disc came at a time that had no reason, but had every reason. I renewed my faith and my belief that I am never alone if I just give my life over to him. I have. Completely.

Family. Oh my. So many days I have taken my family for granted and allowed the little stuff to aggravate me, but once you need them to walk you to the bathroom, there is a new respect. The little annoyances in life are gone. Who cares about the toothpaste or how the dishwasher gets loaded or not. Or my control issues with my son. My crew rallied to just get me through the day. They became my daily cheerleaders, my rock during bad moments, and my everything. Family replaced my long list of wants and it still needs some soul searching as to why my control issues and wants superceded my families love. But I will continue on this path much after my pause button has been removed.

Work. It has been five weeks since I have seen my kids. I can’t imagine their current state. I just can’t. But since this was an extended leave I was caught off from school until I return. I have turned over all things I control with fervor to a state of “you do you” and I will pick up the pieces upon my return. While, I do not think I am replaceable. I am. Perhaps, my replacement does not give the quality I gave daily, but another has taken my place. This hurts. But before I officially retire, the discussion did happen the day after my hospital grand entrance. A bit soon. But needed. There before me stood a man that gave me the world almost thirty-four years ago, and he was doing it again. He put aside all worries of money. All. I cried as I listened to our future together which requires my health not my teachers salary. There were no tears about the end date. Just hopes and dreams of a healthy life both in Neebish, Mexico and our time here in the valley. I thought even the the discussion of leaving the workforce would hurt. Nope. Just gave me a world of options. I want to leave healthy. Not stuck in bed. So while I will return very shortly, I won’t kill myself. I won’t. Just be the best teacher and let the other BS fall to the wayside. How did I get into this situation in the first place by killing myself. No more.

Today, the vertigo is disappearing. The back needs one more appointment and possibly shots along with a full drying of my wet-cement. But I am coming back to my status of Go, go, go but never forgetting this time of pause and what I am graced with in my life.