Operation: Destroy Cankles

I've decided this is the year that I'm going to wear shorts, folks. 

You don't understand how big of a deal this is for me.  Because these legs?  Haven't seen the light of day since 1999.

Let's face it.  Only about 2.63% of the female population actually look good in shorts.  They have got to be the most unflattering piece of clothing ever created after the belly shirt and whatever "trend" Old Navy has thought up for the season.

Shorts are impossible to shop for because there is no standard style like pants.  Every pair is cut differently.  And finding the right length?  Forget about it...  There are only two lengths: hooker short and geriatric long.

Plus you can never sit down wearing shorts.  Not only will your thighs spread to a disgusting size and get that rubberband mark from where the hem is cutting into your skin, but in the summer heat they will stick to every smooth surface you encounter and you'll be constantly peeling them off chairs like (insert crass analogy).

But, alas, now that I'm a mom... doing mom things... outside... with her kid... in the summer heat...  I've got to give up and wave my denim flag.  Because damn, it's hot!

But before I can expose my reclusive appendages, there is one little thing that needs to be addressed.  And that is... the cankles.  Dum-dum-dum-dum.

Yes, the cankle.  For those of you unfamiliar, the cankle is the ankle of a fat person in which the ankle and the calf appear seamless.  Thanks, Urban Dictionary.  Screw you.

Now, I don't consider myself particularly heavy.  Matter of fact, I'm actually back in my pre-pregnancy pants. *score*  However, my legs have never been particularly svelt.  Which would be why I've been hiding them under layers of denim since I was grown up enough to acknowledge that the world need not be exposed to such a sight.  But if I'm going to give in and start wearing shorts, the bottom half is going to need a little revamping.

Enter the c25k.  Dum-dum-dum-dum.

At my office we have a workout room.  It consists of some free weights, an elliptical, and two treadmills that only speak Spanish.  Since I recognize the fact that I will not run after getting home from work, I thought I better make good use of my lunch break.  And instead of chugging Dr Pepper for an hour; run some of the jiggle out of these here thighs.

I'm not making any promises that I won't give up tomorrow next week, but I've always been kinda jealous of people that run and wish I could be one too.  So, here goes nothing. 

And if you want to suffer along with me, check out Cool Running's Couch to 5k training schedule for details.

The root of so many problems...

Dear Blogosphere...

Like thousands of other people out there right now, I'm sick. Not the fun kind of "sick" which really means awesome. (Although I'm kinda that, too.) But the sore throat, raspy hack, can barely breathe out of one nostril kind of sick.


I'm not telling you this to be whiny. Because I kinda did it to myself.  I am fully aware that when my body gets worn out/stressed or whatever, it usually manifests in some sort of cold-like symptoms.  It's because I'm on handfuls of immunodepressants.  But it usually goes away in a day or so without much issue.  Unless I do something stupid...  Like pass around a bottle of champagne on New Year's Eve.  And stay up til 2am.  It's at that point that my body says, "Screw her!"  And decides to teach me a lesson. 

So, five days later I'm trying to hold back phlegmy coughs as I answer the phone with my scratchy, "40 pack a day smoker" voice.  I've been asked several times at work if I need to go home, which I assume means that I look like I have leprosy.  However, going home means dealing with the miniature leper, and I don't think I can handle that.  Not again.  Because yesterday I felt bad for the little munchkin.  I mean, I was the one that got her sick.  So, I stayed home to take care of her.  Big mistake.  Sick taking care of sick never ends well.  At one point, I think I actually had to stop myself from squeezing the breath out of her in order to put a stop to the crying.  I understand that she has no comprehension of why she can't breathe through the snot pouring from her nose, so that's got to be mighty frustrating.  But I'm not particularly well known for my patience on a normal day.  Factor in illness?  And you might as well not come near me, because I'm a ticking time bomb.

But we made it through the day.  Mostly due to my amazing husband that went out to get DQ Blizzards (for the Biggest Loser season premiere) and came home with orange juice.

But that's why I'm sitting at my desk in a DayQuil induced, zombie-like state.  Because it's easier to be sick here than at home.  What happened to home being a refuge?  Oh yeah.  It's been invaded by a 2 1/2 foot, 23 pound terrorist.

So, if you don't hear much from me this week, it's because I'm looking for WMDs hidden somewhere inside my house.  Or I've OD'd on NyQuil.

Peace, Love, and Orange Juice,
Jen

Thankful Thursday

For those of you that remember anything from high school English class, you might be able to look back on yesterday's post as foreshadowing...  Dun dun dun.  I know, how dare I bring up high school two days in a row?!  But I promise, that's the last time. 

Trying to be a good little planner, I've been working on a vague list of future posts.  And by list, I mean mental notes of ideas that usually come to me when I'm in the bathroom. 

But for Thankful Thursdays, I went as far as writing three words on a post-it note.  "Home," Health," and "Family."  Like I said.  Vague.

But I guess I've had autoimmunity on the brain.  Not like I don't always have it on the back of my mind.  That's what happens when you're lucky enough to be part of the autoimmune disease club.  And I'm extra special because I play on two teams.  I guess that makes me pretty lucky.

And truthfully, I am lucky.  Despite the severity of my Crohn's, I live a pretty normal life.  Every once in awhile, I'll have a bad day.  Usually caused by doing something stupid.  Like eating copious amounts of ice cream or McDonalds.  But my daily life isn't limited by my disease.  Until there is a flare up.  That's when I feel like I'm getting zapped by a Proton Pack.  (Don't cross the streams!!) 

As for the MS...  Most of the 6 years I've been living with the disease, I haven't really noticed it being there.  Until after I had the baby.  Then things tanked.  But still, it's not like I couldn't walk.  I just woke up one morning and was numb from the chest down.  And eventhough it's still there after 8 months, I can still function pretty normally.  And most of the time I forget about it.  I like to think that the reason I can't see is because my contact prescription isn't right.  And that could be completely accurate.  Or it could be optic neuritis.  Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

But I am reminded everyday how lucky I am to be in marginal health.  Because more than likely, neither one of these diseases is potentially going to kill me.  And that puts me ahead of so many less fortunate people.

So when you start whining about having the flu this February (even though you got the flu shot), think about the millions of people out there that are just battling for another day on this earth.  It puts things in perspective real quick.

And I apologize for being such a downer.  Go get some ice cream.  It'll make you feel better.  It always works for me.  And it's totally worth being "Ghostbusted."

I'm Bringing Immunity Back: The Old Friends Hypothesis

Those other systems don't know how to act...  Damn you Justin Timberlake.  I can't help but break into song when I see the words "bringing" and "back" in the same sentence. 

But seriously. 

I've got the beginning of an A+ high school term paper in the making here.  Read on to be in awe of my awesome use of the "Introductory Statement."  My high school English teacher would be proud. 

But seriously.

Since the birth of Industrialization some 100 years ago, modern society has made significant advances in business, technology, and medicine among other things.  And that's a good thing, right?  I mean, what would we do without cars, or banks, or antibiotics?

But how much can we alter our environment before we throw the balance out of whack?

That is essentially the theory behind the Old Friends (or Hygiene) Hypothesis.  While no one wants to go back to the days of cholera, the modern preoccupation with sanitation has caused it's own onslaught of problems.  By killing off all the worms, bugs, and germs, we have in fact  evicted our bodies' best roommate.  You know the one that always washed the dishes and cleaned the bathtub?  Without these "dirty" parasites, we have weakened our bodies' ability to regulate immunity.  The effects of immune dysregulation can be seen in the millions of people affected by allergies, immune, and autoimmune diseases.

So, I urge you to throw out the Purell, touch a bathroom door handle, and let your kids eat dirt every once in awhile.  Apparently it tastes pretty good.  Or at least my kid thinks so.

*Stay tuned for the next installment of "I'm Bringing Immunity Back."  Release date TBD.

Adventures in Housekeeping

Since rejoining the workforce four weeks ago, I've done pretty well keeping up with housework.  It hasn't been easy, but by making sure the house is picked up before heading off to bed, I can stave off the "a toy box just barfed all over my house" look.  And that's half the battle. 

But this week....  Oh, how I can't wait for this week to be over.  Monday started out like any other day.  I got up and even had the time to get dinner in the crock-pot before getting the kiddo up.  I was feeling a bit like supermom.  But as so many superheros do, I quickly fell from grace and on Monday night, it all went to hell. 

For some idiotic reason, I attempted to stay up past the ungodly hour of 10p (I know, I'm old) and ended up falling asleep in the recliner... twice, actually.  I vaguely remember waking up a few minutes before The Office was scheduled to start and thinking, "Ohhh...  I should stay up and watch it."  Then, crash.  Back asleep.  And waking up at 2a to finally head upstairs did not lead to a cheery 630a.  (Not that I'm ever cheery at 630a, mind you.)

And that is what led to my obscene use of the snooze button this week.  And I blame that snooze button for paving the way for skipped showers, shoddy breakfasts, botched lunches, and the sinkful of dishes in my kitchen.  Because once you've figured out how long you can stay in bed and still make it out the door in time to be less than 10 minutes late to work...  Then you're screwed.

So, that brings us to Thursday morning.  I finally drag myself out of bed at 650a.  (Only two snoozes today!)   Mistake #1.  I shaved.  That took an extra 7 minutes that I could've used to unload the dishwasher.  Mistake #2.  Looking for the mysterious stink in my kitchen.  Hmmm...  Trash?  Dishes?  And the winner is... Cat puke!  But not just a little furball. Full on, day old, hardened puke.  Awesome.

So now I'm running 15 minutes late.  I wake up the munchkin, skip the snuggling, and proceed to chase her around the house for 3 minutes trying to fix her hair.  Determined to feed my kid a healthy breakfast, I throw some oatmeal in the microwave and pour myself a travel cup of milk.  Running out the door, I see the remains of a life well lived, scattered all over my floors.  And knowing that I may have lost this battle makes me feel a little more human.  And glad that I won't be home all day to stare at it.

The Food Nazi

Alright, Folks.  Things are going to get a little personal up in here.  So, if you're not all that comfortable with your digestive system, you might want to avert your eyes. 

But first, a little background...  Many of the blogs I follow have a strong emphasis on consuming real, wholesome food.  And they tout the health benefits of this dietary lifestyle.  And I agree whole-heartedly that all the processed junk in our society does absolutely nothing positive for our bodies.  But the stakes are a bit higher for me.

I have Crohn's Disease.  And 10 years and two surgeries later, I don't have the option of eating many pre-packaged foods.  Unless I want to suffer the consequences.  (Which I'm certainly willing to face should we be talking about, say, ice cream.)

Case in point...  This morning I was running late (again) and I was scrambling to get out the door for work.  Without anything ready to grab and go, I thought, eh, I'll just figure it out later.  So, I get to work (7 minutes late) and decided to hit up the vending machine. 

Enter chocolate frosted donuts.  I don't know what I was thinking.  They are chock full of preservatives and chemical additives.  Not to mention 23 grams of fat, sugar as the first ingredient, and absolutely no nutritional value.  And about 15 minutes later, I realized I could've just thrown them in the toilet and saved myself the calories. 

And as a busy (now working) mom, I can understand the appeal of convenience foods.  I mean, they are convenient.  But not much else.  Certainly not good for you.  And honestly, not all that tasty even.

And sure, I could do more to enhance my consumption of healthful foods.  (I don't think you'll see me sprouting grains any time soon.)  But ensuring the availablity of nutritious real food at home is my first priority.  So, read labels, keep lots of produce on hand, and take 30 minutes to bake some muffins.  Your colon will thank you.

The Importance of Sleep

I do laundry everyday.  And I'm sure I'm not alone.  But I have the bad habit of waiting til after the kid goes to bed to start...  Which means that a single load that takes 2 hours to wash and dry doesn't get finished until 9 or 10 at night.  Not a big deal, right?  Unless I have more than one load to do... or diapers to wash.  In order to keep up, I started the routine of sleeping in the recliner so that I could continually do laundry throughout the night.  I haven't slept particularly well for years, so I figured I might as well get something productive done rather than wake up at 2am and eat ice cream. 


So, here I am wondering why I'm so stupid by lunchtime.  First solution: caffeine.  I don't like coffee, so I was downing 32oz beverages like it was crucial to my survival...  And I guess to be honest, it was crucial.  But soon, Pepsi wasn't enough, so I had to look for something harder.  Dr. Pepper really did the trick for awhile, but it too began to fail me.  I knew I had to look for another alternative before I graduated to the heroin of sodas, Mountain Dew.  Or worse, energy drinks...


After months of sugar highs and subsequent crashes (not to mention that extra poundage that empty calories provide), I needed an intervention...  I needed better sleep. 


I had overheard someone touting the benefits of magnesium supplements awhile back, and started doing some research.  Turns out that magnesium (found predominantly in dark leafy greens) is essential for nerve function.  More importantly, the relaxation of nerve function.  (Magnesium is also great for people with restless leg syndrome.)  Well, who eats enough dark leafy greens in this world filled with processed foods and 16oz steaks?  Not to say that I indulge in either, but I will confess that I don't always eat my spinach... 


The trick with taking additional magnesium is that you have to consume enough calcium to metabolize it.  So, instead of adding another pill to my collection, I decided to drink a glass of milk with it.  And low and behold, something started to work!  I'm not sure if it's the magnesium, the sedative effects of milk, or just the routine of it all, but I'm getting better sleep than I've had in a long time.  And I realized that my mommy brain wasn't as bad after a decent night's rest.  I started using bigger words again, was more efficient during the day, but the most important benefit was that I didn't frustrate as easily...  A very important thing, indeed, with a busy toddler in the house.


*Ironically, I am writing this post after three sleepless nights watching my brother's kids.  If only there was a supplement that would help a toddler sleep in an unfamiliar location...