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I have been on Optavia and FMLA for 2 weeks now and I am not where I wanted to be in my transformation. I love what my coach keeps telling me “This is my journey, and it will not look like anyone elses”. After 2 weeks I know that my will power has training wheels. I have not had a coke in 2 weeks, non southerners that means any type of carbonated beverages, and have been drinking my water religiously. On average I do pretty good with sticking to my fuelings every 3 hours and drinking 100 oz of water. My struggle is at night and motivating myself to walk during the day. Lean and green meals are not popular in my house. The lean is fine but my family likes good ol’ carbohydrates with dinner and the green cant be too healthy. I may have had a mini blizzard in the past 2 weeks as well and maybe a little halloween candy. But all my splurges have been after 7PM!

My plan going forward is to plan. Sounds silly but I just have to make myself do this because I know #Optavia will work. Any diet that tells you can you can eat halloween candy and blizzards is wrong. Optavia is teaching me to eat foods that will fuel my body and keep it healthy. So every new recipe I try and every time I skip the mashed potatoes, I win. Today I will plan for doctors appointments and surgery. I ONLY HAVE ONE MEAL TO PLAN!! The rest is easy, pack a ziplock baggy with #fuelings. But most of all I need to have a plan to say no thank you to the foods that do not bless my body. I will be taking pictures in a few minutes and will add them to the blog along with measurements/weight.

This is all a part of my journey. I would love to hear yours!

During this “pandemic” I’ve heard so many people refer to the COVID 19#’s they have gained. Well, I’m there with you friend. Orangetheory was my JAM. It was my coping method. It was MY TIME. Let’s face it, it’s time to figure out life with plandemic.

I’ve tried so many product lines in an effort to help me loose weight. The only thing that helped was consistent exercise. I didn’t loose a lot of weight and it was a slow go at loosing what I did but I felt so good!! Now, I have medical issues preventing me from feeling like working out. Top that with no motivation, I felt weight gain was the inevitable.

Recently, I was introduced to Optavia. I jumped on board and started the first day after my box arrived. Wrong!! I also went glamping with a friend shortly after my box arrived. Three or four days in I was eating and drinking like always. Coming back home I made a better plan. Gave myself a few days to put life in order and come up with a 100% doable plan. Today is my 2nd day #1 and I’m determined to crush this Optavia diet.

Not only is this day #1 of Optavia but it is day 1 of my FMLA. I’m going to have a fusion of 2 vertebrae in my cervical spine. At some point I will need surgery on both wrist for carpal tunnel. The topping on my FMLA journey is I have 2 nodules on my thyroid and the biopsy was inconclusive due to not enough cells collected. I’m hoping this will be the easiest to figure out.

Why am I on FMLA before my surgery? To manage my pain, I can not work while taking the medications I’m prescribed. I have scheduled nap times throughout the day to coincide with my meds. Not that it is anyone’s business but in case you are going through something similar, you’re not alone. Make the choice that best suits your needs.

I don’t want this time to be waisted so I’m making a list of things to accomplish before my return day. One is for everyone to be like “DAMN GIRL LOOK AT YOU!” The rest are all the projects I’ve started over the years and never finished. During this time of COVID and my FMLA leave I pray that God gives me the strength to move forward in this life.

I’m sharing my before picture. It’s super embarrassing but just wait until you see the after!

#covid19sucks #plandemic #orangetheory #optavia #goals #findanewjam #spinalfusion #painintheneck #dietvsnutrition

Growing up my mom, dad, brother and mammaw were everything important in my life. I had friends in high school but hanging out with family was always priority. If my eldest child is reading this, she is rolling her eyes thinking she knows where I am going but hang in there, it’s not what you think.

One of the hardest parts of the mental aspect of growing up was adding members to our central family and realizing that my central family was changing. My brother married a beautiful young lady when I was about 20 and I loved her dearly. It was not an issue because now I had a sister. But, marrying my husband brought on a part of growing up i did not expect. My father-in-law would say it was the roses are red, marriage is perfect ideology but in reality it brought turmoil of my mom and dad not being the head of my household. They raised me to believe that my husband was to be the head of the household but not going to my dad proved to be difficult with certain issues. It really was not that my husband could not handle it or a trust issue, it was just habit.

Over the first 10 years of my marriage family morphed and changed in ways I never imagined would happen. My brother divorced, married, divorced again and made choices that left my old central family unit shattered. Meanwhile, my husband’s side of our family was going through things as well and that left a void that should have been filled with bonding.

My in-laws are very different from my mom and dad and, yet, so very much the same. The first 15 years of our marriage I did not see them very often and that left scars that as I would learn later were very deep. But, after 15 years of being an Army wife we settled down in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. If you would have told me in 2001 I would willingly agree to this not only would I have laughed but I might have fought you over the ridiculous notion. I now had opportunity to bond with this family that had been so elusive. Graduating nursing school and moving to Washington brought all kinds of possibilities but what I found was discontent and rage. As 2014 ended and 2015 began I found the void of my in-laws filled with scar tissue that required 5 years to remove. What I did not understand is why I actually hated them so much. I know it sounds so harsh but maybe if you read with an open mind you will come to understand just as I did.

Over 10 years I felt my family from childhood was torn a part. The next 5 years I spent avoiding that pain whenever possible. I clung to the realization that the down fall started with me leaving Alabama with my new husband. I will never forget a conversation I had with my brother in front of the county jail, where he was working at the time, and he told me “our family would never be the same” if I left….and it wasn’t. Babies were born, changes in jobs for my dad, changes in assignments for my husband and divorces. But, it was all my fault because I left. Yes, this part is about 2015 to now and about my in-laws but jealousy is a nasty monster. Why? Why did my side of the family have to hurt so bad. Why do they not have to get their heart broke? Why does his mom get to have all her children and grandchildren together and not my mom? My mom deserves this as much if not more, she’s my mom and therefore the BEST mom ever. My dad deserves to ride his grand babies on the tractor, play with them in the pool and all the cool papa things. And them not having it was my fault. Bless their heart, my in-laws were/are far from perfect but they are good people. However, their absence in our life left a void in my heart. A space I had secretly left open for my future in-laws. And each of the passing years left a layer of scar tissue that turned into any reason to despise them. New Years Eve 2018 was monumental moment for me as I decided to have an entire year to put myself first, make myself “BETTER”. This meant I had to separate myself from them and heal old wounds. It was meant for getting healthier and happier but what I found was so much more powerful. Recognition of my guilt. Recognition that me marrying my love and moving with him to support his Army career was not the reason bad things happened to my mom, dad and brother.

Today, I have a mom and dad that I love more than ever and are the best parents EVER! My brother has a beautiful soul and I hope one day we can give my mom and dad the blessing of both of their children and all their grandchildren under one roof laughing, talking and celebrating. Because they deserve it. Mammaw will be at every family dinner I am because she will live forever in my heart.

Today, I have some pretty awesome in-laws that are willing to move forward in this life instead of looking back. Camping trips and holiday dinners will be plentiful as far as I am concerned. 2020 has been a rough year but is proving to be the makings of an astounding 2021.

#Family #love #forgive #grow #respect #evolve #accept #bond

Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, tells you to enjoy every moment because it goes so fast and I got tired of hearing it. Like I’m seriously going to take my baby for granted! But, here we are and it’s so true. I tried to always make you feel as important as you were and many times “sacrificed” chores to spend time with you 😜. Now, I reflect and wonder if I did spend enough time with you and did I teach you everything you need to know as a young woman on her own.

This time I get to ramble and say all the words in my heart because as proud and happy for you as I am; my heart is breaking.

Your dad and I wanted a baby but had no idea we would get pregnant SO fast. You know your dad, an over achiever, sorry not sorry. Without knowing I was pregnant, your poppa and I took a Harley ride to the beach before I moved across the country with your dad. Upper 90’s and 100% humidity meant you were tough because you should not have survived that ride. Days after that ride, when your dad and I found out in AZ that I was pregnant we were over the moon. Little did we know the adventure we were about to set out on.

Morning sickness and depression from moving away from the only home I ever knew made pregnancy hard but you were my saving grace. I would talk to you all the time. The more you grew, the more I talked and the more I talked the more you moved around. It was miraculous. My love for you helped me grow up but this was just the beginning of all you would teach me.

Like everything else over the past 18 years you took your sweet time coming into this world. Man if I knew then what I know now! Not the ideal induction @38 weeks, labor and delivery. The reward far outweighed the effort because as you can hear on the audio “my baby oh MY BABY” and that’s been the last 18 years. My baby. And in another 18 years you will still be my baby.

Those first months I nursed you and danced with you and stared at you with awe. No story of infertility or miscarriage (that came later) but you were nothing less than a miracle. Your dad worked a lot, Army life, but oh how he would love on you when he got home. And you lit up for him. Maybe I was jealous but you definitely loved your daddy time. You were 6 months old and our country was devastated as we woke to the first tower going down on 9/11. I ran and woke you up to hold onto you as I watched it unfold on TV knowing our life was about to be a whirlwind. As I held you close, you didn’t fuss but let me snuggle you while I cried for those lost, the tragedy unfolding and what I knew was to come. Never forget that day my love it is part of your story. Our families story. Days of not knowing what the next few months, years or even the rest of our life would look like. You were my sanity. I had to be a mom. I wanted to be a mom. Get up, get dressed, dress you, feed you. All I remember is how incredibly perfect you were. My Angel on earth sent to help me through the hard times God had foreseen. September 11 has evolved into a day of survival and strength for you. Your story goes further than one day.

I didn’t know where I wanted to go with this letter to you but here it is. Love your story, live your story but don’t forget you are the author of your story. While you remember the past and plan for the future I want you to live in the present. Love yourself more and maintain your standard of who is allowed in your life. When you started kindergarten I knew it was the beginning of the end, you leaving me. Now, I see what an amazing beginning it truly was.

My prayer for you. Heavenly Father, I come to you with a thankful heart. Thankful for the gift of Eryn. Now, she is going off into the world on her own and I’m asking you to protect her, guide her and always let Eryn feel the love her dad and I have for her. You created Eryn for a purpose and I pray you help her find that purpose. She has had a rough time in middle school and high school and I pray that college life far exceeds her expectations. I pray her days are full of laughter and learning. Surround her with your Angels and keep her safe. Ease her fears, you know them better than I. In your most loving name I pray, Amen.

Sheltered is definitely a word I would use for the vast majority of my life. Sheltered in a good way. Throughout my adult life God has slowly opened doors to let me see how others live their life. It started when Kelly and I got married and I started living the military lifestyle. I remember one friend that was so outside of my “box” that I was uncomfortable around her in the beginning. She had tattoos and eventually became a dedicated church goer! Wait, those 2 didn’t go together…did they? She was my first look at how different life truly is outside of my little box.

I’m sitting here on my patio in Mexico overlooking a beautiful golf course and watching locals drive past on their golf carts. Many speak English, not well but enough to make me and my familia comfortable. I thought how nice it is that they would go that extra step of learning a language to make us comfortable on vacation. One gentleman made a comment that stuck with me on this trip. The locals like it when you try to speak their language. Wow, even now looking back on this comment it is such a loaded sentence. I thought when in Rome? So I’m brushing up on my Spanish and loving the smiles on their faces when I try and even more when I get it wrong and they kindly correct me.

Yesterday brought on a whole new set of feelings for our Mexican neighbors. I’m not really IN MÉXICO. We are visiting the tourists part of Mexico. It’s like putting on your best clothes and using your best china when entertaining what you might consider a VIP. This is their best side, what they show the tourists. Yesterday we drove, took a shuttle bus, outside of the resort area. I’m sure I didn’t even see a fraction of how bad it can get here in Mexico but what I did see was so poverty driven it broke my heart. But as I sit here I wonder if it is not a lifestyle some prefer. I started writing this in the morning but this afternoon as I reflect on the past few days I can see how the simplicity of their life might be appealing. Although, a front door should be a necessity. Perhaps less is more. I was drawn to tears this morning when before my massage the señora seated me and stated she must wash my feet. I was humbled. I reflected to my knowledge of the Bible and Jesus washing his disciples feet. Truly humbled at such a gesture. Afterwards we had lunch at a little Italian restaurant where I commented to one señorita that I am loving their culture and trying to pickup more Spanish. She touched her heart and bowed her head as if grateful. Tonight I’m imaging That young lady going home and telling her familia about the American that is learning more about their culture. So many here have touched my heart and I can never fully explain. But, this has truly helped me find a better me.

Have you ever been talking to someone or a group and another individual starts talking? It happens to me all the time. I use to think maybe I’m not interesting enough or my opinion doesn’t matter. There are times just getting a word in during a conversation is impossible. In fact, at work I have begun raising my hand in meetings because it’s like no one sees or hears me if I don’t make a spectacle. And the thing I have begun to understand is my voice is important and my opinion does matter. According to…well everyone, I have white privilege. No, this is not a poor me but it is a view from the so called white privilege underdog.

Popular, pretty, intelligent, leader and athletic are not words that would have EVER described me. Perhaps sweet, quiet and follower would best label me and we all know how I feel about labels (previous blog) they are a necessary evil. Children were to be seen and not heard was a belief I took everywhere even when interacting with peers. I wish I knew where it came from, this idea that I wasn’t worth listening to. My parents always listened when I had something to say. Now if I knew you I wouldn’t shut up. Like a dam of words was ready and waiting.

Over the years I have given others excuses for interrupting, talking over or just plain ignoring. But today I’m here to tell everyone your voice is worth hearing. I don’t care your ethnicity, religion or popularity/economic status, if you have something to say then find out how to be heard. I’m learning it’s ok for people to not agree with me or not like me but they damn sure better respect that it is my opinion and no one has the right to silence it.

Even us white girls have to make an ass out of ourselves sometimes. How do I make myself heard? Your voice does not always have to be audible. My blog helps me feel heard. My words and thoughts are put out there for those that are interested. Others like to march in protests, being heard as a group brought together my similar beliefs. In this era of social media, technology and support groups there is a way for us all to be heard.

Remember, sometimes silence is golden and you never see an underdog until they are ready for you to see them. One quiet little girl from south Alabama might just become a big freaking deal. After all, in some circles I’m quite famous 😉. Now days the words I use to describe myself:

• Beautiful
• Loving
• Kind
• Intelligent
• Courageous
• Human
• Strong
• BETTER

Have you ever had something you wanted to say but not sure how? I’ve thought about this blog for some time now and am actually rewriting it right now. I’m not a feminist. I have nothing against feminism. Over the past four years old fashioned has mixed with a little new fashion. A conversation with my son is what made me want to rewrite this and the fact that it did not send the message I wanted. My sweet boy referred to me as a feminist and was totally OK. I was proud that the word feminist didn’t strike a negative tone in his mind. But first we need to understand the difference and why it’s ok to have a little bit of everything in this world.

Feminism is a strong word and if simply stated is the fight for equal rights for women. So if I say I’m not a feminist does this mean I think women should get paid less for the same job a man does? Or perhaps you think I want women in the kitchen barefoot and pregnant. Truth is if we kept it simple, yes I’m a feminist but nothing is simple anymore. There are vagina marches, bra burnings and numerous other events that I would never attend.

Yes, I was raised old school and so was my husband. Men don’t swear in front of a lady, he opens her door, he is the head of the household. Now if you’ve met me, unfortunately you know I love Jesus but I cuss a little. Yes I quoted a meme and probably someone who never got credit for saying it first. But out of respect I don’t think a man should swear in front of a lady until she swears first. I laughed at that in my head and I hope you did too. If a man swears around me am I offended, no. I’m realistic. Do I appreciate the gesture if one slips out and he apologizes? YES! Ladies, it is not disrespectful if the guy opens your door! He knows that based on the fact you got dressed and walked you are able to open a silly little door. So why do women get their skirts/trousers in a bunch?

My mom raised me to be a strong, capable woman. She also taught me there are times to need your husband. Times to be delicate and soft. Being “strong” is almost expected in 2019 but being delicate can make you appear weak. Being a lady, soft and delicate does not indicate my weakness but rather my strength. I often wonder why women are so hard on each other. Is it their own insecurities that project or are we blind to the judgments we pass daily? Assuming that I’m any less a woman because I ask my husband before making plans and that fighting for your country makes you any less a lady is ignorant.

One of the best realizations I’ve had as I grow older is I am not the judge, jury or executioner. Rather a child of God who was sent here to love and hopefully make a difference in this world. I like to believe we all live our life the best we can. If we can learn the difference between disagreeing and judging perhaps there would be no need for marches or labels. This could go a lot deeper but this might be the best place to stop.

My heart flutters every time my love opens my door, switches sides so he walks by the road and always keeps himself between me and any perceived danger. It flutters even more when our son does this when we are out for our time together. Praying everyone feels cherished like I do.

I’m rewriting this because the first version upset many people so I decided to take a different approach. Prior to my last blog post I had maybe 2 reads. In all reality I did not think anyone would read but my mom. It was therapy for me to type it out not meant to hurt. If my words hurt you I apologize.

Hate is a strong word. We should not hate anyone. If we all lived a life where we choose to forgive and move on then perhaps happiness would be within reach. It’s no secret to anyone I’m not the favorite person on my husband’s side of the family. This doesn’t mean they are bad people. Perhaps they just don’t understand me and how/why I live my life the way I do.

Nineteen years of marriage has provided many opportunities to grow and nurture a relationship but there has to be action on both sides for this to happen. Hindsight always provides a clearer picture.

My husband doesn’t understand why I write these blogs but it really is a source of therapy for me and I hope that this ends up in the hands of someone that needs my words. How will I deal with those non fans? Well, I’m afraid sometimes the reality that someone just doesn’t like you has to be accepted and you have to move forward with life. I recently read a book that asked a question “What would great look like?” (No Ego).

My great would mean others would have to act and I can’t let that hold me back. MY great has to be me getting up and going to the gym tomorrow. My great will be me opening my Facebook back up and blocking out the negativity. My great will be me being better everyday so that perhaps they will see the real me and really love me.

I hope as my journey continues I will be able to update this part of my life. But, for the foreseeable future I will leave others out of the telling of my journey unless they are agreeable. But to put it out there; I forgive those who have done me wrong over the past 40 years of my life. I plan to move forward. I refuse to stand still in this life and to dwell on the past or the negativity.

To the one person that commented on my last post. Thank you for your input. You’re right it did not provide grace. I hope this helps more than hurts.