a day off

We woke up early, got Charlotte, and started on the errand run. At Big Lots, we bought a Kenmore Elite 6 Slice Convection Toaster Oven, in black, for $45, using the hundred dollar bill Mom had given us for just that purchase. From there we hit a dollar store for dish detergent, dish sponges, soap, and other odds and ends. Then, Trader Joe's for canned cat food, black sea salt, and chocolate. Then, a hardware store. Then, grocery shopping for food stuffs and the barber next store for Adam's haircut. Adam has an appointment to get an eye exam and new glasses at four, so we're hanging around until it's time. Charlotte and I played with the cats for a while, who had pretended not to miss us. Hah.

I am looking forward to work tomorrow. I actually missed the office. Fancy that.

Body speak

I think I will be smacked for this, but, well. I have reached a point where I want very much to lose at least six pounds to feel better about my body. Since gaining a bunch of post-anorexia weight, I've had enough. It's time to go down a bit. Charlotte has been watching an On Demand cable workout thing called Ab Jam and Turbo Jam, and while the instructor goes unbelievably fast, I have found that I can do the moves if I slow down to tai chi speed. Charlotte and I have worked out together a few times, and we do our own speeds: she works out at the speed of the instructor, I work out slowly and carefully. She makes sure my hips are tucked in, etc. Standing with legs apart, tailbone tucked forward under the hips, knees slightly bent, and crunching the abdominal muscles while working the muscles in the glutes, hips, legs, back arms, and shoulders at the same time. I like the way the instructor insists that everyone go at individual paces, rest when needed, don't try and do anything we can't handle. Charlotte, happily, has finally gained enough post-anorexia weight to look curvy. She has color in her cheeks, she's nicely filled out, and she's happier with less digestive problems. We're both working on muscle tone now.
I'm working my abdominals right now, as I sit typing. Part of me wonders why so many people complain that it's so difficult.
I really do not, do not want to admit it, but I'm starting to think that a lot of my anorexia behavior came from the way my mother fed me, with small portions, not allowing me junk food, reinforcing my thinness as very healthy, even when I was obviously skeletal. She and Dad are skinny, but that is because she doesn't eat junk food, he rarely eats junk, and they eat small, balances meals with every food from nature and animal. They do yoga and Pilates and take long walks and work with free weights. It's really an ideal way to eat and exercise. But I think that because it was my childhood diet, I spent my adult years rebelling in very weird ways. My family life was wonderful and loving, what did I have to rebel against? Myself? The way I was living with my parents? How I ate? In college, I was surrounded by bad food. Nobody was telling me to eat all my vegetables and not eat that cake. Oh, subconscious. The eating disorder was just a whole other layer.
After recovery, I ate the way my parents ate, but I kept some of the sugary sweet foods to appease my sweet tooth. Unfortunately I stopped paying close attention, and now here it is. I'm not at all overweight, not even close. But I'm soft. Mom made a comment that the weight I'd gained around my hips might be putting a strain on my hips and legs. I don't see how that's possible unless I had gained a great deal of weight. A good portion of what I've gained is muscle.

I think I'm rambling.

I'm not scared when I see numbers on a scale anymore. I just remind myself to cut down on the foods that make me feel heavier, the refined and the fatty. I just remind myself to keep exercising, keep walking, keep climbing stairs, even when it hurts.

A big personal private inspiration now is my husband. He started Chantix, the anti-smoking anti-depressant, a month ago. He has lost fifteen pounds in less than three months, bought a mountain bike, and has been working out just by doing his job. He tells me I could gain fifty pounds and still be beautiful, that he loves me and loves the sight of me and that the flaws I see are invisible to him. And yet seeing him, his slender body and his activity, it makes me want to do these things for myself. I have a Pilates ring and ball, a yoga mat. Marcia, the yoga instructor and massage therapist that rents my parents' basement apartment, gave me a two hour massage on Saturday and recommended Kripalu yoga. I want to do such good things for my body. I bought new clothes with Mom.

Also? I'm PMSing, and as we all know, a PMSing woman can gain ten pounds in a day from fluids, salts, etc. No matter how much we exercise.

End ramble.