I'm laughing! I'm really laughing - I picked up a book today at the bookstore that lined out several methods to reduce one's stress and believe it or not, I'm actually doing just about everything in the book (without having to actually purchase it for the benefits) and I'm still suffering from all the non-benefits of being a stressed out person. Believe it or not, my doctor tells me that my weight loss program is perfect, I'm doing everything I can do - except that I'm not losing as much as I want, or as fast as I want to lose that extra twenty because I'm stressed.
Now, I just found this out today OK. I went to the doctor to talk about the weight loss. I had already blogged about it, so you knew from reading this week that I'm fighting that last few (OK 20-25 pounds) that has squatted and taken up residency behind my back - and to be honest, in front too - mostly in front, but I lie to make myself feel better. DOCTOR, I asked WHY? We went over my day, my week, my month, my year, my goals, my plans, my children - BINGO! I could go on, I could mention Iraq, immigration problems, obesity in America, lack of good water sources in Oklahoma, draughts in the world - heck, I could get really personal and just explain the stress I feel from trying to get to the washing machines before some of the other tenants in my building; but the REAL truth of it is - I'm a mom!
Stress, it turns out, is the one thing that's shaping my body these days. Without stress I could be fit, trim, full of energy, and probably having a martini right now on the shores of some exotic island with a man I found irresistibly hot -- except even my fantasies are gauged as being somewhat stressful according to His Highness, the doctor I paid good money to analyze my diet problems. He said I'm not suppose to SEE the man in my fantasies, I'm suppose to think him - experience him through thought, not vision. I see Gary! Not everybody else's ideal fantasy man, but mine OK...I like what I SEEEEEEE. But the real problems are named: Reuben, Laura, and Caity. Seems I've been allowing them to edge their way into my psyche for years - into my heart, into my soul, into my cells, they're making me FAT!
I worry about Reuben being in the Army. He's got a broken arm right now, and the field attendants are making him do a two-week exercise. I got the call yesterday that he's hurt his left hand now. (But he should be OK - stressful.) I worry about Laura and Caity getting their butts out of bed to get to college on time. They didn't remember their books. I found them in the car this morning. STRESS. You know what? I think the good doctor may be onto something. If I could just do everything in that book and and and and and....get rid of about 400 or so pounds of "baby fat"; I'd be just fine. BUT, then I'd have too much time on my hands and probably join a commune, plant a pot garden, get caught and spend 11 years behind bars! I could chance it.
According to the book I'm suppose to burn citrus and sage candles. I'm suppose to take baths with lavender oils. It would be best if I took 3 ten-minute breaks each day and just took deep breaths, inhaling fully and exhaling completely. I should also increase my intake of vitamin B products, eat more spinach for the folic acid, and I should journal, write, read, or pet an animal - dogs actually relax a person more so than cats - as cats are often temperamental and disrupt the petting event - dogs will literally stay and allow the session to continue on and on and on...wonder if Gary would stay still long enough to - - I digress.
More baths! More journaling! More tuna, blueberries, green tea, and less coffee (to hell with that one). I'll have to drink more tea because I can't say good bye to the babies - they need me as much as I need them. However, I could do with a little beach and a little solitude. Maybe just me and Matrix in Panama City, a Defoe novel - sun and wind, salted air, and lavender oils a little later on....I kid myself.