Krissie: More Progress

Photo on 2013-02-20 at 08.58 So, did I mention I kept the weight loss from Ebola? At Jenny’s I found I’d been eating so much that I’d oinked up to 241.5 (assuming her scale is right). After Ebola I was 231.5 (where I’ve been hovering for the past nine months). I got on my own scale Monday and I was at 231.3. So good for me.
I’ve kept my vow to do Netdiary every day. Two days at about 1500, and that’s being relatively careful. So I’ll try to start cutting that down a bit.
Can’t swim today because I’ve got a full day of grandson, but that’s okay. What I need to do is work while Alex is here. No, not write — that’s impossible. But some decluttering while he’s playing. No reason I can’t do that.
And Tim continues to do well. He came in yesterday, we asked how he was and he said “Just wonderful.” Me, being dense, said, “Oh, how nice.” Then realized he was being sarcastic and said something like, “oh, sorry.” And he, instead of thrashing around, pulled himself together and said “it’s not that bad” and went and did something productive (he’s been working in the woods). And there was another time when he stopped himself from letting his temper fly.
So good signs abound.
Got some writing done yesterday, though not a lot. Did some office decluttering (emptied two tubs of stuff I’d brought over from my mother’s). And then Richie and I went to bed early and read. It was very nice (he was reading about retiring to the Pacific Northwest, I was reading the new Ilona Andrews Edge book).
We did have a funny moment though. Tim was out, I was lying back in the recliner and Richie and I were being racily demonstrative in our affection when we heard the front door open. He and I jumped back as if a disapproving father had walked in on teenagers. (And it was pretty racy. We kiss and snuggle in front of the kids all the time — this was groping).
All in all, a good day, and today’s going to be excellent as well. It’s cold and snowy and blowy and I’m picking up Alex at McDonalds so Erin can make it to work on time (they had dentist’s appointments that she couldn’t break). So I’ll feed Alex junk food while I eat salad and we’ll have fun.
And I’ll resist the siren lure of French fries. It’s pretty easy to avoid burgers now — I just think of the pink slime they put in them and my stomach turns off. Ah, but fresh mcnuggets.
Down, krissie. Salad.
I’ll weigh myself next Monday. I hope attention to detail will start things moving downward again. It’s time.

Krissie: Progress

Photo on 2013-02-19 at 09.46 Okay, I’d count yesterday as … well, pretty amazing. I’ll get to the amazing stuff in a minute.
I put everything into NettieD. I went 300 calories over, possibly (depends whether I used the right turkey meatball listing or not) but 1500 calories for day is a definite improvement. I went swimming. I did my writing. I got to play with Alex (for some reason I started to type Alastair – Lani gets to play with Alastair, not me). Anyway, got to play with my grandson and had a wonderful time with him. Had dinner waiting for Richie when he came in (he’s working outside, heavy carpentry work, in the bitter cold, and he’s 64 and had a heart attack already. He needs to work, but having dinner waiting really lifts his spirits).
The only thing I didn’t do is put in the time on my office, and I’m not sure what I should do. Try to add it in today, as well as my planned room. Bump each room plan ahead? I think I could throw a 15 minute into this as well as the next room (can’t remember if it’s kitchen or bedroom).
But here’s the amazing thing. Continue reading


So how am I doing on my plan to finish the book without making myself crazy? Pretty damned good. I swam on Monday, couldn’t swim today because of my shrink but will swim tomorrow. Wrote 4500 words on Tuesday and 4800 today. Lessee — how many pages? Approximately 40, given dialogue. I’ve done better, but this isn’t a contest to see how fast and how much I can write. This is a contest to see whether I can finish a book and stay sane. Continue reading

Krissie: Yesterday

I almost put the daily photo of me crying after reading all the posts of support. But I figure I’d spare you that. Speaking of vanity, I accidentally got a look at my glorious nekkid-ness while I was dressing this morning and despite my instinctive recoil, I could see that I absolutely looked smaller. So even without the scale progress is being made.
I was going to respond to a whole lot of stuff in yesterday’s comments but then it got too long, so I thought I’d just do it here.
First off, on calling my son Serpent’s Tooth. I was actually doing it for his privacy, as Lani calls her kids Sweetness and Light. It’s done with mocking affection, and part of the mockery is for me. Why should a child have to feel grateful for being brought up? Each child is owed a safe, loving upbringing, and wanting gratitude is obnoxious. However, I went with ST because I’m a writer and it’s Shakespeare.
We’re unfortunately on the front lines with ST because he’s been hanging out over here and then yelling at his girlfriend over our phone in our living room. Trust me, if he’s gotta do it I wish he’d do it elsewhere. Didn’t Cause it, can’t Change it, can’t Cure it.
(No one mentioned Al-Anon yesterday, which has also been helpful).
And indeed, ST has gone through a lot and come out the other side. We’re just going through a bad patch right now, and I thought I’d dump. In fact, I’m much worse about my sister and mother, because I have such anger towards them.

But the good thing I got out of yesterday, despite some of the tension, is what I love about Lani and Jenny. I want them to love my son, and eventually they will when they meet him and when ST gets his shit together, but part of me loves that they’re angry with him because he hurts me. In my life I was never protected. My mother was a narcissist and a rage-aholic, my father a charming bi-polar alcoholic, and they were both too caught up in their own problems to even think about me except as a verbal and occasionally physical punching bag. My childhood was “WHo’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf.” Mind you, I fought back with brilliant verbiage (my mother used to say I had a “cat-o-nine tails tongue” – we’re always literary in my family, even when we’re angry), but I was a child, dammit. I shouldn’t have had to fight back.
Even as a kid I was the caretaker, the strong one (the reason I’m the one who’s still alive). And caretakers don’t get taken care of. It’s not that I wouldn’t let someone when I needed it. If I really melted down my sister would step in. My father did once when I really needed it. (I may or may not tell you that story sometime). But mostly everyone sees me as not needing to be protected, taken care of.
Which may be why I write such overwhelming heroes and such vulnerable heroines. My heroines have a lot of what I feel inside and cover up. I’m a kick-ass woman — I don’t need to explore fantasies of kick-ass heroines. I’m my own.
So part of me really really loves the fact that Jenny and Lani protect me, and I was already thinking about that when they rushed in later because they perceived someone was being hostile.
Years ago, even when ST was at his worst, drugged up and recovering from a snowmobile accident, my BFF (I’ve known her since I was 8 so that why she’s my BFF – Lani and Jenny aren’t friends, they’re sisters) came over. She was trying to mend our relationship, but she hadn’t spoken to me in 20 years (I’m not exaggerating) and the ST would have none of her because she’d hurt me. I remembered being so surprised and touched by that, even though I wanted him to like her.

Sometimes I don’t have to take care of everyone. Not all the serial addicts in my life (my father, my brother, my son). Not my husband. Sometimes I don’t even have to take care of me. Lani and Jenny will. Richie will. The BFF will nowadays.

It’s a good feeling.

As for the Serpent’s Tooth — he’s made huge strides, and I would literally kill for him. He know he’s got the fiercest, most loving mother in the world. He’s going to be fine.

I just gotta remember to get off the roller coaster.

Krissie: Boys

So, for a week, at least, I’m going to take my photo with Photobooth first thing and put it in the blog. Not sure what that will accomplish, but hey, a touch of reality. Today the house is cold so I’m wrapped in a quilt I made and a pashmina Karen Harbaugh gave me(I’m not usually swathed like a mummy).
But I digress — the topic of the day is boys. Why do they break our hearts more than the girls? Oh, both of them can, I know, and little girls can be just as vulnerable as little boys can. But there’s just something so heartbreaking about boys. I remember once, driving through town and seeing a ten year old on a street corner, alone, hunched beneath his backpack, looking so fragile that I burst into tears. Seriously.
I don’t know if it’s because little boys are more prone to learning differences (the Serpent’s Tooth has major dyslexia). I would expect they’re also more prone to Aspergers, autism, and ADHD, though that’s a guess. We want so desperately to protect them, to slay dragons for them. In my case I slew too many, and of course in the end I couldn’t slay all of them. I had to give him up to save him (special, uber-expensive “troubled teen” schools that at least kept him alive until his brain could mature enough). Continue reading