“Love Too Good”….Answers Before Questions

I was in Eddie Bauer on Friday when I heard Grace Slick singing a song I remembered vaguely from a long (long) time ago, and I was strangely happy and sad at the same time. I remembered some of the words and told my daughter, who was shopping with me, about how it had been years since I’d heard the song. But it was playing softly, and I couldn’t pinpoint where and when I’d heard it or why it made me feel so in discord. I said I’d Google it later and we went to the next store.

The song stuck in my head, in bits and pieces, all the way home and throughout the weekend, nagging me when I went to sleep, there when I woke up. I kept hearing Grace Slick singing the line, “But can’t you see that I’m no good…” (FYI: That's Grace Slick, not me, in that photo :))

Today I went outside to measure our fence with that song in my head. I was only going to be out for a few minutes. Mid measure, a neighbor came over with a plant – a decorative grass that she had to divide because it was taking over the lavender in her garden. She asked if I wanted it because she hates to let living things die in a compost heap. I understood and told her I’d find a good home for it. I asked if she’d like some oregano that was threatening the coreopsis and Shasta daisy in my garden. She said yes, and so after measuring the fence, I dug up a third of my oregano and put it in an ice cream bucket. I figured since I was there and had my shovel and trowel, I’d dig up one of the hidden coreopsis plants and replant it in another garden. Well, then, why not take out a bunch the sage that was overtaking my lavender and replant it along the garage? And, oh heck, weed and water the beds and pots and trim a bush and sweep the garage and feed the birds and…oh yeah…repot the decorative grass my neighbor gave me.

Two hours later, I went back in the house, dirty, sweaty, hungry AND with that damn song in my head.

“But you can’t see that I’m no good”…It meant something to me at some time. So I grabbed some food and Googled Jefferson Starship, which came up with “Love Too Good.” That was it! I downloaded it on iTunes, clicked play, and suddenly I was 15 years old again. Here are some of the lyrics:

I’ve opened the door
I’ve set you free
But can’t you see
That I’m no good
I’m sorry

Sorry
Baby I still love ya
Sorry
And I worry about it
Sorry
The hurt I put on you
You can do without it

Love too good
You gotta
Love too good
You gotta
Love too good
For a woman like me, baby

If you look up “Lynn Haraldson” in the dictionary, I’m pretty sure this song would come up as a definition. Throughout high school and much of my adult life, I saw myself as a walking piece of hurt just waiting to envelop my next victim, never feeling good enough, never allowing someone else to love me for me. No wonder that song’s been going through my head all weekend. It was a huge reminder of how I’ve lived much of my life in that kind of oppressive self-view.

I finished lunch and decided to take a bath. Not just any bath. A “I really need and want and deserve this” bath. The kind where you pull out all the stops. 1) It was the middle of the day; 2) I grabbed a glass of wine; 3) lit candles even though the sun was shining; 4) used the good bubble bath and body wash; 5) listened to Robert Plant and Alison Krauss; and 6) kept filling the tub with hot water as the water got cooler. I soaked and relaxed and thought about the teenage/early adult me, trying to separate her from the me now.

I compared losing weight and maintaining to Jeopardy, where we often get the answers before we know the question. We can choose to ignore that answer nagging us in the back of our heads, and I suspect many of us do without knowing it, or we can address it. One of my Jeopardy categories this weekend was “The Past.” The question was, “But you can’t see that I’m no good.” Time was ticking. I’d bet a true daily double and had to figure out the question or I’d go broke.

“What is…‘What negative self-opinion did Lynn have of herself for most of her life?” I replied.

“Correct!” said Alex Trebek. And we walked off into the sunset, hand in hand and…wait, that’s another fantasy for another day.

See where a little self-esteem will get you? heehee

Anyway, I’m glad to now have that mystery solved. The song is still going through my head, but not in a teenage angst-ridden way. It’s not a workout song by any means, but it’s good to have those reminders along the way, the ones that keep you grounded to your past. The ones that are no longer definitive, but are either comparative or in contrast to the way things are now.

So what answers are nagging you? Please tell me I’m not the only one who hears Grace Slick in her head all weekend….

Two weeks vacation!

Right now I am in the middle of a two week vacation, and it feels wonderful. :)I used to get so paranoid about travel because restaurant meals are so caloric.But this time we booked a hotel with a mini fridge and a microwave in room, so I have been able to eat healthy most meals of the day. :)We plan to go to little Tokyo today. We'll most likely have sushi for lunch. I really hope to visit

“The Toils We Put Ourselves Through!”

Three days. That’s all the time I took off from exercise, but it feels like it’s been three weeks. 60 may be the new 40, but for me, 45 is the new 80!

Combine the last five days’ tension, excitement and lack of sleep with a literal pain in ass (damn sciatica), the elliptical, arc trainer and a 19-month-old and you get one achy Grammy Lynn (emphasis on grandma).

Anyhoo….I’m not blogging today to bitch about my old body. OK, maybe a little. But really what I want to share is a follow-up email I received from a reader, Julie, who wrote a comment several months ago in a blog in which I wrote how my arm surgeon wants to fuse both of my wrists. Her question was how much weight did I lose before certain body parts stopped hurting so much. She was contemplating ankle fusion surgery and she wondered if losing weight would help ease her pain.

This follow-up email amazes me for so many reasons. First, let me share it with you:

“I've gotten myself from 311 to 256 and can tell a great difference in how the rest of me feels. Just not that ankle – stubborn joint! I'll be having joint fusion surgery in late July, and am already beginning the ‘how to maintain and/or keep losing while recuperating’ planning that will carry me into the fall.

“The decision to go ahead with the surgery was interesting. I was always afraid that I would have to choose the surgery because I was unable to lose weight. Being successful with weight loss freed me to make a decision that was based on wanting a pain free day, rather than being resigned to the option because of my failure. Same outcome – very different mindsets.

“Now, I recognize I have miles to go with a goal weight in the 180s (my 5'11" frame puts me at or near healthy BMI there). Funny, as a three-sport athlete in high school I weighed 176, and thought of myself as fat, overweight, obese, incredibly yucky. Now I know that weight was within a healthy BMI for my height and frame size. The toils we put ourselves through!”

Wow! That covers a whole lotta changed-mind/changed-attitude territory. Julie not only decided to do what she felt was best for her body based on what is best for her body and NOT what she felt was a weakness or lack, but she’s got a plan to stay at or keep losing while recuperating. Confidence will buy you a lot of open-mind real estate, my friends.

I love, too, how she can look back at her past body and realize that what she saw in the mirror and how her head interpreted that image was not what was real. She was a healthy body weight in high school, strong and agile, and yet what she saw was fat.

Julie is right. “The toils we put ourselves through!”

In her blog today, Lyn over at Escape From Obesity talked about beauty and the disease of obesity. She said, “There IS beauty in every body. But, to me, the most beautiful thing is a body... any body, even as imperfect as mine... that is as healthy as it *can* be. That's something we are all capable of: building strength and grace and health, day by day, step by step.”

That, to me, is what Julie has done – discovered her own past beauty and recognized her own strength at her weight now.

I really believe the best decisions we make about all aspects of our lives originate in how we perceive our entire selves. The more positively we view our bodies and the more we trust our innate wisdom, the better decisions we will make. Ankle fusion, wrist fusion, whatever it is we need to “fix” will be easier and recovery less difficult if we go in with a plan that is rooted in love of self and not in fear of or condemnation of self.

It’s emails like Julie’s and reading blogs like Lyn’s and Lori’s and Mara’s and Shauna’s and Debby’s and 45’s and Shelley’s and Miz’s and Vickie’s and Cranky’s and Charlie’s and everyone else’s that reconfirms for me every day that this weight-loss/weight-maintenance/fitness experience I live in day by day is more common than not, more good than bad.

Yeah, my body hurts a bit tonight. It’s getting older, doesn’t recover as quickly. But it doesn’t mean I throw out the baby with the bathwater. There is more right than wrong going on. I just have to look for it is all.

Sitting on the deck on this quasi sunny day, I’m surrounded by my beautiful garden and potted plants. The tomatoes have grown a foot! So has the basil and cilantro. The oregano is threatening to take over the daisies and mums, and the Asiatic lilies are just about to bloom. The dogs are happy, there’s a purple finch at the feeder, and my neighbor isn’t making obnoxious sounds with his power tools. There is food in the cupboards, clean clothes in the drawers and the porch is vacuumed (yes, vacuumed…gotta love Astroturf).

So I’m a little stiff? At least I can still move, right?

And when I can’t, I can trust that I’ll have a plan.

You know I couldn't leave you without a new favorite photo of my favorite granddaughter and favorite grandson. Claire loves touching her daddy's playoff beard. Go Pens! And Luca, well, some day he'll grow into his nook.

Let The Day Begin

Before the chaos of another day begins, I wanted to thank you all for your warm wishes and congratulations on the birth of grandbaby Luca. He’s quite a little peanut.

My daughter Carlene and I have been holding down the fort here at Luca’s mom and dad’s house, namely watching g-baby Claire and cooking and freezing meals so Cassie and Matt can settle into life with two children without having to think too much about what to have for dinner.

Watching Claire, I’m reminded why MizFit calls her daughter The Tornado. I bought her a tricycle yesterday, and some friends gave me their sandbox so I also bought sand and filled it up. Claire wanted to ride her trike, then play in the sandbox, then ride her trike, then play in the sandbox, then ride her trike… Then she’d see her stroller in the garage and she’d sit in it and yell something that meant, “Hey! Push me around!” and so we’d go for little walks or I’d race her around in figure eights in the driveway. It takes a lot of energy to be Claire, but it takes even more to be her caretaker.

I don’t have time to ponder too much in this blog entry since Ms. Thang will be awake soon, but in the few quiet moments of this morning, I’m grateful once again to my 300-pound self for taking that first step down the scale. Often we chastise our past selves or wallow in the “How could I?”s or “What was I thinking?”s instead of looking at the feelings and emotions underlying our lives at that time. I was still a kind and loving person at 300 pounds. I wouldn’t have been able to chase around a toddler like I do now, but that doesn’t give me the right to beat up on what was. And so I choose to pay her homage and to thank her for looking out for me.

Thanks again for all of your support and kindnesses, not just as it pertains to Luca, but to my blogging and weight-loss/maintenance efforts. We all need support in whatever journey we’re on. I’m glad to have you along on mine.

Luca and Aunt Carlene

Almost running out of steam

Matt, Cassie, Luca, and Grammy Lynn hanging on to Steam Engine Claire

I Know I Just Posted, But...It's a BOY!

My grandson, Luca Matthew, was born at 9:45 tonight. He is 7 pounds, 11 ounces and he and his mother are fabulous!! I will meet him tomorrow, just before Claire and I go buy sandbox sand. Oh, life....it's so malleable.

G-baby Is A Few Hours Away

I’m sitting on the deck at my daughter and son-in-law’s house. Claire is bathed and in bed. Her mother is in the hospital in labor.

We weren’t expecting g-baby #2 without induction, but this kid is already a sneaky enigma. He or she decided to start coming out around 10:45 this morning, despite Cassie’s doctor’s insistence that the baby wouldn’t come out on its own within a week.

I hope we have a birth by the time you’re reading this, but beforehand, I wanted to write about how this day has been a walk….no, SPRINT….down memory lane.

I was supposed to be in Pittsburgh for the day. A “one more day with just the girls” before the new baby. But when I got here, Carlene told me she was timing Cassie’s contractions and that they were coming 7-10 minutes apart. I had with me only the clothes on my back, my BlackBerry, and a Tupperware of soup. I was definitely not Grammy Ready.

Enter Grandpa Larry.

We have two cars – a newer model Subaru something or other and a ’95 Jeep Cherokee (my favorite vehicle ever). The Jeep isn’t allowed out of Clarion anymore since a hole appeared in the catalytic converter. However, in an emergency, such as the birth of a grandchild, we would allow it out of the county. Of course today it decided to have a sticky throttle and something wrong with its transmission. Thank god Larry knew of the one rental car place in Clarion and called to reserve a car. We’re now the proud renters of a shiny black Cobalt for the weekend. He packed my bag, my computer, my camera, face lotion, and toothpaste and brought it to P’burgh.

He was only here for an hour, but I really appreciated that hour. We took Claire for a little walk, but afterwards while she played in her sandbox, Larry watched her so I could get her dinner ready. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that alone. It’s been 25 years since I was a pregnant 21-year-old mother of a 20-month old and about to give birth. Tonight I have renewed empathy for the long-ago me, and a new respect for my daughter, who will soon follow in my footsteps and be mothering two children in diapers.

I made Claire a chicken breast with a little olive oil and tarragon, green beans, black beans and for dessert, a fruit pop. In between cooking for and feeding her, I roasted myself some mushrooms and steamed an artichoke. I ate the mushrooms with Claire sitting on my lap and coloring, and I ate the artichoke, cold, after she had a bath and went to bed. I’m finally sitting down and eating a bowl of soup. I’m too excited to eat, too wired to sleep. Grandbaby will be here soon.

The love I have for Claire is enormous. I’m sure many of you can relate with your own grandkids/kids. I know I’ll love this new baby, too, but it’s still not real. I’ll let you know tomorrow how it all turns out. I just needed to get this part out, some photos out there, to document this moment. Claire and I have a big day tomorrow. She meets her new sister or brother and I my new grandbaby. We also have to buy sandbox sand and play in the pool and buy a few groceries. I’ll be in no mood to eat again tomorrow, I’m sure. Heck, I’ll probably forget! That doesn’t happen often, my friends. Not often at all.

Claire puts a hat on Grammy Lynn

Claire assesses her handiwork

A Day Off

I love (usually) to exercise, but I equally love my one or two days off a week, at least the ones not imposed by illness or TooMuchStuffGoingOnitis. Those are the days I want to exercise the most and I get all pissy and such.

A day off is two cups of tea instead of one and an extra game of WordTwist with my kids online. A day off is two breakfasts, one of which includes *gasp* carbs, like French toast made with Arnold’s sandwich thingies or cereal or “fried” potatoes. A day off is the freedom to debate the necessity of a shower or changing into real clothes before noon. A day off means a little more time for blog reading and writing. It’s a few more minutes of meditation, recipe searching, and dicking around with Twitter (still not sold on its necessity in my life).

Gone are the days when I killed myself with cardio. Two years ago, I averaged six hours a week of cardio in addition to one to two hours of strength training. Yikes! No wonder in my journal I wrote time after time, “I’m sore today.”

These days, I weigh the same as I did two years ago and I average five to maybe-sometimes-but-not-usually six hours of formal exercise a week. Gee, kill myself seven to eight hours a week to maintain my weight AND be sore all the time or cut back to five to maybe-sometimes-but-not-usually six hours to maintain my weight AND not be sore all the time. Hmmm….hard to believe it took me two years to figure that out. Oh, but I forget that I’m the Queen of “Oh My God If I Don’t Work My Ass Off I’ll Gain My Ass Back!” Yeah, I locked her in the basement with my fat chick. They are partners in criticism and I try not to listen to them anymore.

Today is a day off. I had a fruit smoothie with chocolate soy milk and opted for the Arnold’s French toast. (QUICK RECIPE: Dip the two halves of Arnold’s Sandwich Thins in ¼ cup Egg Beaters and two egg whites, cook on a griddle or skillet sprayed with cooking spray, top with two teaspoons of real maple syrup for a total of 3 Points. Don’t forget to scramble up the remaining eggs in the skillet!)

I’m on my second cup of Irish Breakfast and still in my pajamas. I have an extensive to-do list because g-baby #2 will most likely make his/her appearance Saturday or Sunday, but for now, right now, during what would be my exercise time, I’m chillaxin. I’m not fretting that I’ll gain weight. I trust that the body I see today will be the same body I see tomorrow.

Pardon me as I yell down to the basement, “Did you hear that, fat chick and exercise freak? I TRUST myself! Yeah, take that you b-words!” Secretly, though, you all know I’ll get worried once in awhile about the whole weight thing, right? But we don’t need to tell the girls in the basement. That can be just between us.

Now, back to my tea and WordTwist. Here’s hoping you all enjoy a good day off a few times a week!

I've Got A Thing About Seein' My Grandkids Grow Old

I had a hankerin’ for some Cat Stevens the other night. Not sure why. Maybe because I was finally ready.

I listened to a lot of Cat Stevens in the dark days of my last (and biggest) weight gain. His music calmed me, made me think, made me remember my childhood, and overall represented happiness, a rare commodity during that time.

In the late ‘90s and early ‘00s, I was on my way up the scale like a soldier marching to war. There were a lot of things right with my life, but secretly – the stuff I hid from most of the world – things were way off. I was dealing (or rather, NOT dealing) with past grief and other issues that I just wanted to go away and not think about. But you know and I know that when you want things to just go away, they plant themselves stubbornly on our path and refuse to move until we deal with them. And I dealt with them alright, by eating too much and spending most of my nights glued to my computer playing computer games and listening to music. During the day I was Just Lynn – smiling, together, always attentive to everyone’s needs. But at night, I was Depressed Lynn, as in major, diagnosed depression. And I sat there and thought and drank and ate and played and listened to music and wished my life was different.

All this wishing eventually led to my decision to lose weight, but the process of getting there deserves the same, if not more, respect I give to my choice to change.

That’s what I mean when I say I was ready to listen to Cat Stevens. I was a little nervous about it, wondering how much pain it would bring back. But I was relieved when I felt mostly joy, the same thing his music has brought me for 35 years.

Most of Cat Stevens’ music has an association with my childhood. When I was in high school, I played flute in our church’s folk service band and one of the songs we played was “Morning Has Broken.” Still gives me chills. As we broke up, a few boyfriends tried to warn me about the dangers in the real world, thus my relationship to “Wild World.” With apologies to Rod Stewart and Sheryl Crow, no one performs “The First Cut Is The Deepest” better than Cat. And god knows I grew up to be a “Hard Headed Woman.”

Listening to the song “I've Got A Thing About Seein' My Grandson Grow Old” on those depressing nights, I used to think, “I’ve got to do something about my weight or I’ll never live long enough to see my grandchildren grow up.” My kids were still in school and grandchildren were still years away, but it planted a very important seed in my numb, anti-depressant fogged mind. I had to lose weight or I was going to die. Probably not right away, but young.

Hearing that song again the other night put the exclamation point on my decision to lose weight this last time, especially with grandbaby #2 on the horizon. For me, losing weight saved my life, and not just in the physical sense. Cat Stevens, who is now Yusuf Islam, was a part of that thought process.

Deciding to lose weight every time before was a snap decision. It was never thought out. It was something I did because I was “feeling fat” or not good enough or I had a new boyfriend or some other stupid reason. This time I did it for me. For my children and grandchildren. You see, I’ve got a thing about seein’ my grandkids grow old…

I buy the nicest things

From a supermarket store.

Vitamin land and marzipan

And I know just what they're all for.

I've organized my useless life in a wayI've never done before.

Even visit the dentist now

But I got no time

For silly chitter chatter.

I'm on my way,

'Cause while my blood's still warm

And my mind doesn't matter,

I'm hopin' to stay.

Because I've got a thing about

Seein' my grandson grow old.

Yusuf Islam is making records again. I just downloaded his latest, “Roadsinger,” on iTunes. The songs have the same feel as “Peace Train” and “Morning Has Broken.” I wonder what kind of memories these songs will invoke in the years to come. I’m in a much healthier, happier place than I was ten years ago, so most likely they will remind me of these days. My blood's still warm, my mind is (usually) together, and I'm hopin' to stay in this world a little longer.

Parenting is Weight Loss. Grandparenting is Maintenance

In six days (or less), Grandbaby #2 will make his/her appearance! I’m so excited I can hardly stand it.

Cassie, Claire and Matt, October 2007

I love the smell of newborn babies, holding newborn babies, oooing and ahhhing over newborn babies, and I especially love that I don’t have to do any anything to get this newest newborn baby into the world except to watch Claire while her parents do all the work. Grandparenting is aaaalllright.

While I was in P’burgh yesterday visiting my daughter, son-in-law and, of course, g-baby Claire, I observed Matt and Cassie interact with Claire and thought about how similar good parenting is to effective (not just any old) weight loss. It takes encouragement, patience and many “no”s to parent well and just as much encouragement, patience and “no”s to lose weight in a way that will give someone the best shot at no future weight gain.

Good parents also bend and are willing to learn as they go along. They understand that you can’t know everything from reading a book. Experience is the true teacher. A “good dieter,” for lack of better words, also is willing to learn from experience. Just because a book or program says you should eat this or do that, it’s ultimately our bodies that tell us what is right and wrong for us, but too many times we get wedded to the “experts” and forget that we are the boss or ourselves.

Before this last time down the scale, I wasn’t a “good parent” to my dieting body. I used WAY too much discipline and not enough encouragement, and I lost my patience more times than I can remember. No wonder I gained weight back so many times!

In my own interactions with Claire yesterday, I also realized how grandparenting is similar to maintenance. While I’m vigilant and mindful to not let Claire get hurt, I also get to have a little more fun and be a little more relaxed than I did when I was a parent. Same thing with maintenance. While I’m vigilant and mindful to food and exercise, I’m also having a little more fun and am a little more relaxed than I was during weight loss. I’m also a lot more patient, both as a grandparent and a person maintaining a weight loss, more so than I ever was with my kids or body before.

For instance, Claire loves going through my purse. It’s a slow, methodical activity we’ve done since she was 8 or 9 months old. She reaches her hand in and takes out each item, one at a time, observing each one carefully before handing it to me. Some things, like my Bluetooth, are boring and she hands them over quickly. Other things, like the bottle of Advil or Tic Tacs container, are fun to shake first before handing them over. She loves the slide-open mints container with the mirror inside and pulling out the string from the dental floss.

Then there’s my wallet, which she has to rearrange every card in first before handing it to me. She figured out how to open my compact and likes me to rub the soft applicator on her cheeks. She’s still trying to master opening my lipstick and Burt’s Bees. She hands them to me to open and then wants a little on her lips. She doesn’t drool anymore so I let her play with my Blackberry, although yesterday she almost called one of my old boyfriends. While we’re still friends and we talk once a year when I go home to Minnesota, he’d probably wonder why I was calling him on a Saturday afternoon.

When I was a parent, I had so much going on all the time that I didn’t have time to participate often in slower activities or to take in each moment with careful observation. As a grandparent, time is different. I’m not doing laundry, going to the grocery store, planning, working, fixing, yadda yadda yadda, when I’m with Claire. I’m just with Claire. Same with maintenance. Yes, effective weight loss is a slow, methodical process, but there’s a lot of learning going on at the same time, a lot of multi-tasking. Just as a parent “raises up” children, a dieter is working towards a goal, too. Grandparents aren’t (usually) the primary “raiser-uppers” of the grandchildren, and maintainers are hanging out and (hopefully) staying the same.

So….in six days (or less), there will be double the Grammy Lynn fun. Please forgive me if I’m not here much for awhile, or if I babble on and on about the grandkids. I’ll come back to earth at some point.

One more thing before I end, thank you so much for your kind comments and emails about my kids and their Mother’s Day gift (from my last blog entry). That photo of us is from Cassie’s wedding in 2006, when I weighed 40 pounds more than I do now. Next to the births of my children and Claire, Cassie’s wedding was the happiest day of my life.

The Best Mother's Day Gift Ever: Memories and Significance

My kids spend weeks putting together my Mother’s Day present. In their eyes, Mother’s Day is bigger than Christmas or my birthday. Ever since grade school, when they made me planters and wind chimes and clay hand prints or brought home spider plants and tree seedlings and pumpkin plants with a homemade card attached professing their eternal love, they’ve given me heart-felt Mother’s Day gifts.

They’ll be hard pressed to top this year’s, though. Judging by Lynn’s Tear-O-Meter, their gift was a 10.

I now have a new workout play list, thanks to the mixed CD Carlene and Cassie made me. They chose songs I’d long forgotten, songs that reminded them of me and us, the hard times and the good times of their growing up – sometimes with and sometimes without a stepdad, but always, ALWAYS, with their mother.

I used to be the queen of self-flagellation in terms of how I raised my kids. Was I too lenient? Too stern? Did I tell them too much? Not enough? When I was single, I dated a lot. When I was married to the wrong husbands, that husband and I disagreed a lot. I got fat and thin many times too, but they grew up thin and without food issues. Just as they learned to accept people for who they are, love smartly and not hate. I look at them sometimes and wonder, “Where the heck did you girls come from?”

I’m so darn proud of my kids, so amazed by this mixed CD, that I wanted to share the playlist and some of what they wrote about each song. I don’t share this to brag, but to reassure you that – fuck up as we might as mothers, daughters, sisters, friends, what have you – we’re loved and remembered in ways we’ve forgotten. Often, in terms of how we talk about the process of weight loss, we are negative about ourselves and place far more importance on our bodies than our overall impact on the world around us. This blog is meant to ask you to please not forget the impact you have on the people around you – you valuable, lovable, whatever-your-size person you are.

Here it is, in their own words (as Brian Williams would say):

“Hi Mom! Enjoy your fun CD and we love you!!!!! xoxox, Carly and Cassie”

“Got My Mind Set on You” - George Harrison

Some of my favorite memories of Mom is when we'd watch this music video. It always cracked me up watching the moose head on the wall dancing and such. I always think of Cassie dancing her little knee bopping dance as a little kid listening to this song and watching the video.

“Bohemian Rhapsody” - Queen

I remember when Mom picked me up from the airport after spending time in PA with Joe. We were driving on the highway and this song came on the radio. I had no other memory of being SO incredibly happy to be home, so Mom cranked this song up and we sang it at the top of our lungs while doing our version of head banging. With Mom it was always OK to act a little strange. We kept laughing harder as we'd see the people in other cars look at us like we were nuts.

“Copacabana” - Barry Manilow

Personally for me, this song makes me very happy. When driving home after 10 long weeks of being away (NOTE: Cassie was in Army basic training during the summer before her senior year of high school.), Mom bought me a little bear that I named 'Bear Manillow' because half asleep in the very back of the van, I made it dance to this song. We were all laughing so hard, I think we were all in tears. Even Larry! I had never been so happy to be with my family at that moment.

“Thing Called Love” - Bonnie Raitt

“Good Things” - Bo Deans

This song reminds me of when the three of us drove to Minnesota for Grandpa's birthday. I remember when everyone else was tired, I popped this CD (the live one) in and Mom and I sang to it while Carly slept in the back. We also got some good chatting in, too, as always.

I wouldn’t have my appreciation of the Bo Deans if Mom hadn’t had them on all the time. Such great music and always a favorite when I’d raid Mom’s CD collection (which I did frequently!). The Bo Deans bring me back to about ages 10-13. Tough times during those years, but also wonderful times that brought us so close.

“Galileo” - Indigo Girls

Nothing reminds me more of Mom than Indigo Girls. Frankie, too. Those were the good days. We would all hang out with music in the background. I can still hear it
playing when we'd take any sort of road trip in PA. Didn't we listen to it on the way to Gettysburg?

I remember stealing this tape from you for a long time. Who knows if I ever gave it back! Like Cassie said, this also reminds me of Frankie and the play she put together based on Wuthering Heights and I played Heathcliff. Every time I hear an Indigo Girls song today I think of Mom.

“She's in Love with the Boy” - Trisha Yearwood

“Wide Open Spaces” - Dixie Chicks

For me, this song reminds me of my wedding. Mom wouldn't tell me what song we'd dance to, so when this song came on I had a feeling I already knew she'd choose this one... Simply because it fit for us and how we are. Mom has always let me be the free spirit I am, and she never made me feel like I had to apologize for it or conform to everyone else. She's always let me be me, and that's what a good Mom is all about.

I, too, think of Cassie’s wedding when I hear this song. Again, Mom’s Country music collection was small, but the Dixie Chicks made the cut! I actually think of going off to college to Bloomsburg and saying goodbye to both Mom and Cassie with this song. That was a huge time in my life and I missed Mom and Cassie terribly. Mom always let us be our own people and stretch our legs and be who we needed to be.

“Ice Cream” - Sarah McLaughlin

“Look Heart, No Hands” - Randy Travis

“I'll Stand by You” - The Pretenders

I don't have a specific memory for this song, but I do remember Mom always saying she loved this song. However, when I do think of this song, it takes me back to a sad time in Minnesota and how we were all there for each other to get through it.

This song make me think of the three of us. We’ll all stand by each other no matter what. Enough said.

“Fire and Rain” - James Taylor

I could always count on Mom to listen to good mellow James Taylor. This was always one I remember playing.

I wouldn’t have my appreciation for Classic Rock and James Taylor if it wasn’t for Mom. Gosh, we’ve been listening to James Taylor since I was a tiny kid. I can’t remember a time when we DIDN’T listen to James Taylor!

“Landslide” - Fleetwood Mac

I know this song is more for Carly, being as Mom wrote about it when she was graduating school. But for me this song is more on a Mom level. I would sing this song a lot to Claire when she was a little baby to calm her. It always worked. As a mother, this song's lyrics are both sad and hopeful, thinking about how wonderful it is to love someone/something so much, however as they grow (which is wonderful) you are also growing and getting older. For me I always think of how Mom would say she virtually grew up with us, and now as a mother I'm doing the same thing. So as the lyrics go, "I been afraid of changing 'cause I built my life around you..."

This is a beautiful song and it always reminds me of Mom. Even though Stevie Nicks says “this one’s for you Daddy”, I think of Mom instead.

“Alone” - Heart

Do I really have to say anything? It's Heart? And this is the best Heart song ever!

Lol, Cassie! I don’t know about the best Heart song EVER, but it is a good one. (Too bad Celine Dion had to butcher it with a cover!) I fell in love with Heart partially because Mom listened to Heart. And these chicks rock!

“Have a Little Faith in Me” - John Hyatt

Not only is this one of the best songs EVER, but this and the Jewel version were often played in the house and car. It's one of those songs you can listen to and just feel good all over knowing that someone feels this way about you.

This is a great song and it reminds me of Mom. I think the Jewel version is from the Phenomenon soundtrack, which I know made Mom cry! There are times when the three of us just know to keep having faith in each other. If we didn’t we wouldn’t be as close as we are today. This song symbolizes that perfectly.

“Begin” - Toad the Wet Sprocket

Talk about a depressing song. But I remember on many occasions Mom had mentioned how this song reminded her of me. I do think that past the sad parts of the song it's about a child being wiser than its age and maybe that's how Mom felt about me at the time?

Yes, I think of Mom and Cassie with this song, but overall Toad reminds me of Mom. Getting to see Glen Phillips on my birthday at Club Café was the best gift from Mom. True, I got a little tipsy off wine, but the concert was still amazing. I’m so glad Mom loves Toad!

“Dancy’s Dream” – Restless Heart

“I’m the Only One” – Melissa Etheridge

Cassie forgot all about this song until I reminded her. I always think of Mom with this song because we went to the Melissa Etheridge concert at the Target Center together. That was such a fun time sitting in the VIP suite!

“Freedom” – George Michael

Sudden Intense Craving

Today I was struck by a craving for a McDonald’s Cheeseburger. Instantly my mind vividly imagined the smooth warm bun, the minced onions, pickles, and ketchup in the warm melty plastic cheese. I could smell it, and feel it, and taste it...This really shocked me because I haven’t had a Mc Donald’s cheeseburger in over 10 years! This only lasted a few seconds and now I feel really

Have (Food) Plan, Will Travel…For The Most Part

What’s wrong with this picture?



On the way home from Louisville yesterday, there were no clean bowls in the car to mix up PB2, so I used a Chinette plate (just call me Foodie MacGyver). I probably shouldn’t have mixed it up on top of my laptop, though. One good pothole would have sent water flying and my ThinkPad wouldn’t have been “thinking” anymore. But when you’re sitting in the back seat with a large cooler on one side and the door on the other with no room to set down your computer without major renovation of the back seat, you take your chances.

We were in Louisville for a reunion with Larry’s friends from grad school. We all stayed with our friends Denny and Katie. Denny called the week before to ask Larry about “Lynn’s food.” He wanted to know what I “could” and “couldn’t” eat. Legitimate question. Larry told him to not worry about me, that I’d bring my own food, and to just reserve a corner of the grill and a burner on the stove.

Still, Denny wanted to be an accommodating host. Gotta love the guy for trying.

When we got there, I had every intention of going to the grocery store. But Denny challenged me, saying he had it all figured out.

Denny: “I made meatless lasagna.”

Lynn: “I don’t eat pasta.”

Denny: “What about bread? You eat bread, right?”

Lynn: “Um…not really….”

Denny: “How about eggs? You eat eggs?”

Lynn: “Egg whites…”

Denny: *big sigh* “Well, what about asparagus? I bought two bunches of asparagus for dinner.”

Lynn: “There are 10 of us. I eat one bunch all by myself. That would leave everyone with a stalk and a half each. I just want a salad and the soup I brought.”

Denny: “I have lettuce!”

Lynn: “Iceberg?”

Denny: “No! Real lettuce!”

Lynn: “Yay!”

He won. I didn’t go to the store.

The next morning, I asked for a sauce pan.

Denny: “For what?”

Lynn: “To boil water for tea.”

Denny: “We have a microwave.”

Lynn: “I don’t like microwaved water…”

Denny: “What the…?”

Lynn: “I can’t control the temperature. Too hot or too cold will make my tea taste funny.”

Denny: “Oh.”

Then I dug out a box of Almond Breeze.

Denny: “They milk almonds?”

Lynn: *eyeroll*

Then I dug out the jar of PB2.

Denny: *eyeroll*

I know I come across as a food nazi sometimes, but I do have a little bend in my food regimen. Really I do. For instance, I ate bread with my soup that first night and I loved every second of it. That counts as bendy.

The fun continued the next day. We went on a VIP tour (lah-de-dah) of Maker’s Mark distillery, which included a tasting and lunch. I was a Wild Turkey girl a long time ago, but my bourbon days are over. At least they were until Saturday. Maker’s Mark is pretty tasty if you don’t rush it. And now that I know how to smell it properly and drink it properly, I just might take a snifter on the deck a few times this summer.

Back to lunch. It was served in a house on the Maker’s Mark grounds. It was a small buffet so I couldn’t order anything to my specifications. Flakey buttery rolls, ham, au gratin potatoes, green beans, corn pudding and bread pudding in bourbon sauce. Hmmm…what to eat, what to eat.

The salad came with dressing, but our server brought me me a plate of greens when I asked if she had anything without dressing. I was excited about the green beans until I saw they were made with ham. So I took a small scoop of potatoes, a roll, and some corn. Carb-o-rama, but I was hungry.

As I was eating, my mind started doing this whole “You’re on vacation!” thing to me. I haven’t heard that voice in five years and it worried me a little. “Just one more bite, Lynn. That corn is goooood.” I gave in to a few extra bites, but damn, that battle in my head was loud and heated. The old Lynn wanted more, the new Lynn said no…I wanted them to both shut up and leave me alone. I was with friends in Kentucky at a distillery having lunch. I kept wondering why food has to A) enter so prominently into every moment of my day, and B) be so damned complicated?

Oh but it gets better. Larry came back to the table with bread pudding. Was never a big fan of the bread pudding and figured one bite and I’d be just fine. But that one bite was like sinking my teeth into the warmest, richest, most cinnamony bun on the planet. Let’s just say it is now on my Top 10 Evil Foods list, edging out onion rings, which has moved to position 11.

Churchill Downs was no problem. Nothing but crap food there – fried everything and meat. I had a few glasses of wine, bet on the ponies, and got a little sunburn. It was perfect.

Back at Denny’s, it was time to start dinner. Everyone else was having steak. I wanted veggies and a sweet potato. Denny and I had an understanding by that point and the kitchen sharing went smoothly.

The next morning, I woke up to Denny making French toast. Not just any French toast, but OMG French Toast. I know. I had a small piece. With real maple syrup. Told you I can bend.

In the car on the way home, I ate fruit salad and baked Doritos (yup, I really did), a Subway veggie delite with no cheese, pretzels, 3 Musketeers mint minis, and a raw red pepper. I was so carbed out by the time I got home that I ate only soup and Brussels sprouts for dinner. My body told me what it needed and that I was back in full contact with it and able to accommodate it, I was happy.

I learned a lot on this vacation. I learned it’s possible to bend and not break, to have control even when letting go a little. Bending and little are the operative words. Food doesn’t have to be all or nothing. Some is also good. A little, a bite…these are the best options.

I doubt I’ve put on any weight, but I’m not going to torture myself by getting on the scale before Wednesday. I did nothing “wrong,” but I know if I see 129 or higher, I’ll do a brief why-did-you-eat-that flogging and I don’t want to go there. I’ll let the weekend, with all its food and fun and friends, be what it was.

Mean and Shallow

Sorry I have not posted in a while, but I have been crazy busy trying to get my costumes ready for the Anime Central (ACen) 2009 convention in Rosemont, IL.I debuted my cosplay of The Diva Plavalaguna from the movie The Fifth Element on Friday, May 8th 2009 to rave reviews!Jess as The Diva Plavalaguna - "The stones are in me." I put about 5 months of work into the costume. (Click here

What is Your “Cringe Weight”?

I need your help (no, not THAT kind of help, as in rubber rooms and straight-jackets, although there are days…).

We all gain and lose weight differently. Some people were thin in childhood and became overweight or obese after college or the birth of a baby. Some people were overweight all their lives. No matter how we gain or lose, I believe we have more in common than not.

A chapter in my book (yes, I’m still writing that sucker) deals with that one weight that, when I hit it on the way up and down the scale, I’d feel it more (both physically and emotionally) than any other. You know the number I’m talking about? Do you have one?

I gained and lost the same 20, 30, 50+ pounds for 22 years, but it was that one number – 200 – that made me either roll my eyes and promise to diet again when I was going up the scale or rejoice and promise never to return when I was going down the scale. Even though my scale number had gone much higher, to nearly 300 pounds, 200 was “the best of times; it was the worst of times,” to quote one of my favorite books (bonus points if you guess the right one).

I’m trying to figure out if I’m alone in this or if more people than just me have a revolving number that they keep/kept spinning endlessly around in. Is there a weight at which you roll your eyes and promise to diet again only for the weight to creep back on and hit it again? How did/does it make you feel? What changes have you made, if any, that will ensure you’ll never see that number again?

You don’t have to write a novel-length answer. This isn’t for a grade or credit, just some informal research. Post a comment or send me an email to lynnbering@verizon.net.

I appreciate your perspective in helping me understand the intricacies of a “cringe weight.” The more I write about weight and the more I get to know people dealing with weight issues, the more complicated and simple the problem seems all at the same time.

NOTE: I’ll be out of town tomorrow through Sunday, so there will most likely not be any new blog posts before Monday. I’m heading to Louisville for a weekend of debauchery, I mean clean fun with my husband’s Purdue friends. They may have graduated a long time ago, but they party like it’s 1969.

Collard Greens, Black Eyed Peas & How To Shred A Squash

A quick follow-up to yesterday’s post, “One Little Move Is All It Takes.”

The back is feeling better and it’s up to some cardio and light strength training. Now if only my head was. I do NOT want to exercise today. Don’t know why. Just don’t want to. But I will, because I’ll kick myself later if I don’t.

But that’s not the reason for the follow up. Remember how I said I’d never tried collard greens or black eyed peas and I was going to give both a try in one recipe? In a word, the are FABULOUS! And the recipe was so good I had leftovers for breakfast. Where have these foods been all my life? Oh wait, I grew up in Minnesota…*snort*

Here’s the recipe from Weight Watchers online. I modified it a bit – I left out the oil and salt, and changed chicken broth to veggie broth. But this former Minnesotan and spice phobic says, “Bring on the Tabasco!”

Collard Greens with Black-Eyed Peas
6 servings is 2 Points, 4 servings is 3 points

1 medium onion, chopped
4 C collard greens, without stems, coarsely chopped
1/2 C vegetable broth (original recipe calls for chicken broth)
15 oz cooked black-eyed peas, canned, rinsed and drained
1/8 tsp hot pepper sauce, or more to taste (I used ¼ tsp)
1/4 tsp black pepper
1/4 C dried bread crumbs, coarse-variety (I used panko)
1/4 C grated Parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Coat a 9-inch round glass baking dish with cooking spray.Spray a large nonstick skillet with cooking spray and heat over medium-high heat. Add onion and a bit of broth and cook, stirring frequently, about 5 minutes; add collard greens and rest of the broth. Cover skillet and reduce heat to low; simmer until greens are tender, about 15 minutes. Uncover and cook on high for 1 minute if necessary, for liquid to evaporate. Stir in peas, hot pepper sauce and pepper. Spoon pea mixture into prepared baking dish; smooth into an even layer.
In a small bowl, combine bread crumbs and cheese; sprinkle over pea mixture. Bake until topping is browned, about 15 minutes.

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45 and Aspiring asked in a comment how I shred a butternut squash. I eat a lot of shredded butternut squash. It was through a Hungry Girl recipe that I started eating them. I make them like hash browns, pan “fried” in cooking spray with minced onions and garlic, and serve them with my favorite potato condiment: ketchup. However, I also use “hash brown” butternut squash as a base for pasta sauce. I like spaghetti squash, but I find it a Catch 22 – sometimes it cooks up dry (the way I like it) and other times it’s very watery. Butternut squash has a few more calories (and Points) than spaghetti squash, but one cup (6 ounces shredded) is only a Point, so it’s worth it to me.

Anyway, back to the shredding. I first peel the squash with a vegetable peeler and then either shred it with a box shredder or, when I’m doing a large batch, throw it through the food processor. Shredded butternut squash will last in the fridge for 2-3 days (sometimes longer).

As for okra, Gail from Shrinking Sisters recommends I try the pickled kind. 45 and Aspiring recommends I “fry” it in the oven and it won’t be sticky. (Yes, it was the sticky that turned me off the first (and only) time. It has the texture of snot.) I promise to give it a go when it’s in season.

So how do you like your collard greens? Your black eyed peas? And why can’t I say “black eyed peas” without a southern accent?

One Little Move Is All It Takes

I was feeling fabulous yesterday after 30 minutes on the elliptical. Sweaty and pumped with energy, I picked up my 25-pound weight and started my ab routine. Right side, no problem. Left side, on rep #12, something in my back snapped and I could barely straighten up. My form was fine, but something was bunched up back there that caused my lats to spasm. I guess no matter how strong your core is, back muscles are complicated and one little move is all it takes to get you sitting in a chair with the heating pad.

Oh well, I’ll baby it a bit, go about my day a little slower, and think about happy things like Hearty Lentil Spaghetti. My friend Sharon found this recipe in Cooking Light several years ago. It is so tasty I could eat it by itself, but I pair it with shredded butternut squash and some parmesan cheese. Here’s the recipe:

Hearty Lentil Spaghetti
Makes 5 cups: 2 Points for 1/2-cup serving

1 medium onion, chopped
2-4 garlic cloves, minced
1 T olive oil
1½ C dried lentils, rinsed
4 C vegetable broth
½ t pepper
¼ t cayenne pepper
1 can (14½ oz) Italian diced tomatoes (or diced tomatoes in oregano and basil)
1 can (6 oz) tomato paste
1 t white vinegar
3 t Italian seasonings (or 1½ t each basil and oregano)

In large saucepan coated with non-stick spray, cook onion and garlic in oil until tender. Stir in broth, pepper and cayenne and bring to boil. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer for 20-30 minutes or until lentils are tender.

Stir in tomatoes, paste, vinegar, and herbs. Return to boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer for 40-45 minutes.

I serve this with whole wheat spaghetti for Larry. For me, I shred 6 ounces of butternut squash, put it in a fry pan coated with Pam, add some minced onions and garlic powder, and cook it like hash browns. Then I throw it over the lentil mix and add 2 T of parmesan cheese for a total of 3½ Points for the serving. Of course if you use pasta, there are additional Points.

Also on today’s menu is a collard greens/black eyed peas recipe. I’ve had neither collard greens or black eyed peas before, even though my husband grew up in the south. I trusted him when he said I’d like okra (ummm…that would be a big NO), so I didn’t believe him when he said I’d like collard greens and black eyed peas. However, in my pursuit of new recipes, I’ve decided to give it a try. Besides, the recipe I’m using calls for Italian bread crumbs and parmesan cheese and hot sauce. I can mask any unpleasant flavors with those three ingredients! Except probably okra. *shudder*

My back is up to a trip to WalMart. I know, you’re terribly jealous and wish you could come along. Sorry to keep that thrill all to myself. Try the lentil spaghetti and let me know if that’s not thrilling enough for you.

Tomatoes and Pig Farming

Think slavery ended in this country in the 1860s? Guess again.

“A Florida tomato picker, Mariano Lucas, was forced to work without pay and was regularly beaten and chained inside a box truck at night by a family of farm bosses who held him and a dozen other workers captive.

“You might think this nightmarish story took place in some dark period of American history. Unbelievably, it’s a reality today, in the vast tomato fields of south Florida. In December 2008, Lucas’ captors were sentenced to 12 years in prison for ‘enslaving and brutalizing migrant workers.’ At their sentencing, Mariano stood before his former captors and told the judge, ‘Bosses should not beat up the people who work with them.’

“Nobody knows exactly how many people are enslaved in Florida, but federal civil rights officials have prosecuted seven slavery operations involving over 1,000 workers in Florida’s fields since 1997. One federal prosecutor called Florida ‘ground zero for modern-day slavery.’”

This was part of a press release my sister-in-law Tracy forwarded to me from the company she works for, Bon Appétit. The company has formed an alliance with a farm labor coalition in Florida to help fight human rights abuses of farm laborers who pick tomatoes.

Bon Appetit’s president and vice-president traveled to south Florida to see the conditions for themselves:

“We saw trailers that are home to upwards of 10 people that are charged astronomical rents (up to $2000 per month), we heard stories of workers being hit and threatened in the fields, and we saw how hard the work of picking tomatoes truly is. We knew we had to take a stand against these abuses. We cannot have a sustainable future without considering the humans in our supply chain.

“We have created a code of conduct for tomato growers requiring them to treat workers well and pay them fairly. If we cannot find a grower willing to abide by our code, we will not buy Florida tomatoes.”

While ALL food should be grown, picked and distributed in ethical and humane ways, it isn’t, just as clothing isn’t sewn together by adults (not children) who normal hours and make livable wages. I cannot fathom what kind of person thinks it’s OK to beat a migrant tomato picker, chain him up at night, and force him to work without pay, but I can’t bury my head in the sand and pretend it doesn’t happen. The part “We cannot have a sustainable future without considering the humans in our supply chain” applies to consumers as well, and I will work harder to educate myself on these issues so I’m a more informed consumer when I go to the grocery store or patronize a restaurant.

In my December 21 blog entry, “Where Does Your Food Come From?” I chatted lightly about how our food comes from all over the world and that I tried to avoid food from China. Several people left comments and sent detailed email about the importance of buying locally and eating food that is in season. Honestly, these weren’t things I’d considered before and was very glad for the info. Same thing here. How do you know if the food you buy is grown and picked in non-abusive environments, both in terms of the earth and the workers?

I won’t launch into a diatribe about the swine flu, but I’ve long been an opponent of industrial farming, particularly as it pertains to pigs. I’m all for raising animals for consumption, but I prefer we do it by means of small family farms. My late husband and I raised cows and pigs and never were they mistreated, locked in cages, or brought to slaughter sick or lame. I realize some people deplore farming of animals in any way, but I will defend small family farms over industrial farms (be they grain or animals) any day.

My main concern with industrial farming was always for the welfare of the animals, but it is clear that humans are suffering, too, my means of disease. Which animals from what farm gave what to whom is still up in the air, but industrial farming may be to blame for this swine flu outbreak.

I’m investigating online, but if you have thoughts on this subject, and on the subject of farm workers’ plight and rights as it pertains to our food purchases, please share. I’d appreciate it.

REMINDER: I will donate one item for every comment left on my last entry, “A Different Kind of ‘Food Issue,’” to my local food shelf. If you haven’t written a comment on my last blog (or if you did and want to leave another one, it’s fine, I’m counting ALL comments), you still have until the end of today to do it. Thanks!