Unbelievable

That's right. If this bill passes, they could refuse to serve me in a restaurant in Mississippi because I am obese. I find that astounding. Seriously. What's next?

Credit to Junkfood Science:

HOUSE BILL NO. 282

An act to prohibit certain food establishments from serving food to any person who is obese, based on criteria prescribed by the state department of health; to direct the department to prepare written materials that describe and explain the criteria for determining whether a person is obese and to provide those materials to the food establishments; to direct the department to monitor the food establishments for compliance with the provisions of this act; and for related purposes. Be it enacted by the legislature of the state of Mississippi:

SECTION 1.

(1) The provisions of this section shall apply to any food establishment that is required to obtain a permit from the State Department of Health under Section 41-3-15(4)(f), that operates primarily in an enclosed facility and that has five (5) or more seats for customers.

(2) Any food establishment to which this section applies shall not be allowed to serve food to any person who is obese, based on criteria prescribed by the State Department of Health after consultation with the Mississippi Council on Obesity Prevention and Management established under Section 41-101-1 or its successor. The State Department of Health shall prepare written materials that describe and explain the criteria for determining whether a person is obese, and shall provide those materials to all food establishments to which this section applies. A food establishment shall be entitled to rely on the criteria for obesity in those written materials when determining whether or not it is allowed to serve food to any person.

(3) The State Department of Health shall monitor the food establishments to which this section applies for compliance with the provisions of this section, and may revoke the permit of any food establishment that repeatedly violates the provisions of this section.

SECTION 2. This act shall take effect and be in force from and after July 1, 2008.

Imperfection

This video is probably so funny because my kids are both misbehaving.




Here's the transcript:

Lindsay: Lauren! Quiet down.

Lauren (whispers): Be quiet.

Lindsay: Lauren!

Lauren (shouting): What?!

Lindsay: Here. Lauren!!!

Lauren: What?!

Lindsay: Here.

Lauren: Lindsay, you're hurting my ears. And it's not very nice.

Lindsay: Lauren!! Quiet!! Quiet!!

Lauren: Shh! You want me to be quiet?! You be quiet!!

Lindsay: Quiet!!

Lauren: Lindsay, you're just telling me to be quiet so you can be noisy. It's not very nice!! It's not even fair!!

At this point I lose it, not because of the argument, but because there is an infestation of cats.

Early morning conversation

I don't really talk to the girls until after I'm showered, dressed, and on the way to retrieve my coffee. I say the rote instructions, "It's time to brush teeth, get dressed, turn off the lights..." but no real conversation until there's at least the promise of caffeine.

As I reach the bottom step, I say, "Good morning, my girly girls!"

Together they respond, "Good morning, Mommy!"

Today, Lauren adds, "I hope you are in a better mood than you were last night."

"Me too," I say, "Last night was very trying."

She smiles. "We'll work on it."

"Yep."

Songwriting

One of the things I was most entertained by about Alec when we met was his ability to make songs up about practically anything. I realized today that our daughter Lindsay has inherited that trait:

Skin-a-mar-rinky dinky dink
Skin-a-mar-rinky doop
I made poop!

"You made a poop?"

"Yeah! I made a poop in the diaper! Yay, Lindsay!"

Well, oookay then.

A little white lie

Lauren and Lindsay are in Lauren's room, jammied up, and ready for storytime. I'm lying on my bed with my eyes closed, a container of baby lotion rests on my forehead.

Lauren says, "Mommy said she is upset because she feels like no one is listening to her today." Her voice becomes higher, "But I am listening. And I need her."

Lindsay grunts in agreement.

"I'm going to go talk to her. You pick out a book or two for storytime, OK?"

"Ok, Lar-ren."

"Lindsay, you select two books and wait here with them and I will go talk to Mom."

"Ok, Lar-ren."

Lauren runs in, and flops on the bed next to me. I open my eyes slowly. "Hi."

She smirks. "You have a bottle on your head."

"Yes. Yes I do."

"It's a little bit funny."

"Oh?" I ask. "Just a little bit."

"No, actually it's pretty hilarious but I didn't want to hurt your feelings." she says, chuckling softly.

"Oh."

"So I told you a little white lie and said it was only a little bit funny..."

Do Nice

The line between hitting and petting continues to elude Lindsay. She will excitedly smack her sister on the head, grinning broadly, only to hear Lauren howl in pain and a parent or both scolding, "No, no. No hitting."

It is to the point now where Lindsay will excitedly raise her hand to "pet" and then say, "No hitting!"

This morning, Lindsay is running back and forth around the living room while I am working at my laptop. As she walks past, I stroke the top of her head.

"No, no, Mommy. No hitting," she says, wagging a finger at me.

Back into it

If you read Worst. Mama. Ever., you already know I posted this morning that I'm committing to posting 5 days a week here. This week I am refocusing on life balance, because, as it has been pointed out to me recently I tend toward extreme commitment or rejection and moderation would be very good practice. I was reading my archives yesterday and I thought, wow, my writing used to be tighter and freer when I did less navel-gazing. So, in that spirit, I will try to give you some more of my life vignettes.

At the moment, both Lauren and Lindsay are sitting on the stairs. Lauren is in time out for having held Lindsay's naked doll (I have no idea why the plastic dolls can't wear clothes, but there you go) above her head, and then when asked to give it back to her sister, dashed it at the floor.

Lindsay snuggled her doll and glared at Lauren as she sat down. Only about a minute later, she was sitting next to her sister on the bottom step, legs dangling, her blonde head resting on her sister's shoulder whispering about...I don't know...they are always whispering and plotting these days.

"Ah wuv you, Lar-ren." She put her snot-sticky face near Lauren's, humming at her until she got kissed.

Fleeting Moments

Because some day she's not going to be content to sit in my lap eating graham crackers.

Listening more and talking less

That's really the advice I should heed. I have stumbled several times this week over talking more than I should, and saying (or e-mailing) things without thinking.

I also have gotten out of a couple of my good habits, blogging and then heading to the gym. I walked a couple miles today, so I still got in some exercise, but time was I hitting the gym 5-6 days a week. I'm down to 3 per week the past 2 weeks, just managing a single session of cardio/weights and my 2 yoga classes.

I recently started going to church. Lauren was invited to join the children's choir, so we were there yesterday afternoon for a half hour. She absolutely loved it. She sang the loudest of the 4 girls that were there. She was really excited that they will perform for the congregation on February 3rd.

I have new habits I like, but I need to bring back some of the old ones too. I will be listening more, and try to speak a bit more here, anyway.

Happy Birthday, Martin.

Let us turn our thoughts today
To Martin Luther King
And recognize that there are ties between us
All men and women
Living on the earth
Ties of hope and love
Sister and brotherhood
That we are bound together
In our desire to see the world become
A place in which our children
Can grow free and strong
We are bound together
By the task that stands before us
And the road that lies ahead
We are bound and we are bound

lyrics by James Taylor

A late night self portrait

Where do they learn this stuff?

Lindsay at 20 months, January 2008

"Mom? Need ice." Lindsay points to her ear.

"Does your ear hurt?"

"Yep," she replies. "Need ice."

"Did you bump it?"

"Yep."

"Does it need a kiss?"

She pulls a face. "No, Mama. Need ice."

Living the dream

James Austin of So Long, Davey

You're way too cool to be my little brother, y'know. You totally rock.

Letting go

Some say love is holding on
and some say letting go
Some say love is everything
and some say they don't know

lyrics by John Denver

I lost my job yesterday. I'd felt for a while it was coming. The company has grown, departments formed, and they don't want independent contractors anymore. I guess the combination of this and a phone call from my sister's frazzled case manager left me feeling really unbloggable. I'm struggling a bit today, knowing that another day just makes it easier to avoid.

No, I don't know where she is. I'm not her keeper. I am barely managing to keep myself these days.

Sit in a comfortable cross-legged position, open palms rest on your knees.

I don't even know how you struggle against that. That's just yoga. I was late today after I realized my car was nearly out of gas, and a mile from the gym the alarm went off that I had 10 miles until empty. I stopped at the gas station at the corner. I had exactly 7 minutes to get filled up (in Jersey, we can't pump our own gas), park, get Lindsay signed into babysitting, and unfurl my cold yoga mat. I made it breathless to the third floor, kicked off my Converse All Stars, peeled off my coat, and sat down still wearing my socks.

So many things I need to think about...

To rethink.

Doors have to close for other ones to open. I know this.

Only the memers will get this one

Miscellany

Sybil asked if I named my bike. I hadn't thought about that. I was too busy grinning as I sped circles around the park. There was something about it that brought me back to a simpler time when life was about spending the day at Fern Park and managing to pedal home in time for dinner. I laughed a lot. And I got to cross out one of the items on my thin fantasy list.

There were two firsts for me last weekend repeated again, and I do so totally love and need Saturday morning yoga. It's a great way to start the weekend.

I found the service this morning nice. I didn't feel awkward and uncomfortable.

Although I had a nice time with Alec sans kids (they were with my in-laws overnight), I can't stand how annoying Lauren is after only a few hours with Nanny. In church today, Lauren complained that her feet hurt, and I looked down and saw she was wearing brand new sneakers that are identical to a pair she owns. "Hmm, those are the same as your Tinkerbell sneakers." I said.

"Yes," she said. "But they're too small."

"Where are your Dora sneakers?"

"Nanny said they were dirty, so she bought me new ones."

These weren't the only words of wisdom. "I can't wait to go back without Lindsay because there are so many things we can't do with her there!"

"Like what?"

"Eat at a restaurant."

"Lauren, we eat at restaurants all the time with Lindsay."

"Nanny said that she is too little for that."

My new bike

I totally heart my new bike - a Trek Navigator with a matching helmet. We went riding today in the park, and I didn't even fall off! Would you believe it? I got on, and it was just like riding...well, you know.

Self portrait

Guidance

Once a week, Lauren's class has a guidance period, where they meet as a group with their guidance counselor and discuss some subject. This week, they made collages and talked about people in the hospital.

"Mrs M said that people in the hospital probably feel a little bit sad and lonely," she said. She took out her collage, a sun peeking out over the horizon colored bright yellow. "So I made this for Juliana."

"That was very thoughtful."

"Can we mail it to her?"

"Sure." I said. "Did you talk with Mrs M about Juliana being in the hospital?"

"No."

"You can if you want to..."

"I can talk to anyone about anything I want to," she replied.

"Yep. I was just wondering if you told Mrs M you were making that for..."

"I said it was for my Auntie and that she's in the hospital."

"Ok."

Later at bedtime, we talked about her trip this weekend to my in-laws to spend an overnight with her sister. She's not thrilled about it because, as she says, "I don't get to do everything I want to do when my sister is there" which we talked about a bit, but also, "The stairs are very slippery there and I worry my sis might fall down them. I fell down them when I was littler and it hurt."

While it's sweet she thinks it's her job to look out for and protect her sister, I saw too much of my own situation reflected in this - it's a big scary world she's too little to actually save her sister from, so she's powerless to do anything but worry that the people in power will do their jobs, and she doesn't have a lot of confidence in them.

Reflecting on how the road to hell is paved with the best intentions

The purchase of this necklace benefited NEDA, and was handmade by a woman named Carrie. The 16" chain is a little too snug on my size 16 body. I bought it to give to my sister for Christmas, but it didn't arrive in time. I thought a meaningful present, handcrafted by one who'd traveled her path and made it back to well.

I had to state in open court yesterday that I couldn't serve as a juror on a criminal trial due to last 3 weeks because I had no one to take care of my kids. When asked, I stated that my mother could not come down to help care for my children because of what happened with my sister on Christmas Day. The judge was appropriately embarrassed for having pried into my personal life, as he was with the woman who announced she could not serve because her doctors suspected she had cervical cancer and had to go for a uterine biopsy. I was not called for another jury pool and was dismissed at the end of the day having served my one day. I can't be called again for 3 years.

I feel today like I'm trying to sweep a flood away with a broom.

Monday Musings

I have jury duty tomorrow. Ugh. I can't believe it. There's something about my statistical package that those random computers sure like. I have, in fact, been called to jury duty in every county that I've resided. Unfortunately, my last service was over 4 years ago for Federal court, which makes me once again eligible for service. I am a Petit Juror, which means my case will likely be criminal if I get assigned (please please please no). The only upside is that Petit Jurors serve a day or a single trial, whereas Grand Jurors are called for a week and listen to many cases.

It was in the forties today, so we went to the park and ran outside for a while which meant everyone was really ready for bed tonight. Nice. Lauren was a bit weepy about how she's not very good at basketball after playing in a single clinic. We told her that at the end of the month (after 3 more clinics) if she still doesn't like it, she doesn't have to go back.

Epiphany on The Epiphany

Those magic men the Magi
Some people call them wise
Were Oriental, even kings
Well, anyway, those guys
They visited with Jesus
They sure enjoyed their stay
Then warned in a dream of King Herod's scheme
They went home by another way

Yes, they went home by another way
Home by another way
Maybe me and you can be wise guys too
And go home by another way
We can make it another way
Safe home as they used to say
Keep a weather eye to the chart on high
And go home another way

lyrics by James Taylor

You want to ask me how I know it's the Epiphany? I went to church today. Seriously. I didn't even catch on fire.

Why did I go to church? Well, Lauren asked, "Can we go to church?" She wanted to go because all the kids in her class are always talking about church.

My friends attend the local Reformed Church. I don't know anything about the Reformed Church, other than I'd met the pastors at the pool and they seemed nice enough. Because we chose The Epiphany, which marks the day that the Magi visited Jesus, the service was a bit longer than usual. It was also the first Sunday of the month when they receive Communion, and the day they were indoctrinating their new elders and deacons. About an hour into the service, Lauren beamed and said, "Can we come back next Sunday?"

"Sure." I replied.

I'd love to say that there was something about the experience for me that changed the way I feel about being at church, but as all the other services I've attended (maybe about a dozen), I felt like I was the only one in the dark about what happened next despite having the program, Bible, and hymnal. I also felt like people were trying very hard to be inclusive and yet that only made me feel more awkward and anxious.

Confessions of a possible addict

I wrote a couple weeks ago about shedding the fantasy that my life was going to magically get itself together and start doing the things I'd been too afraid to do until that'd happened by my estimation.

I've been taking a pilates class on Fridays for a few weeks. Pilates is pretty hard. I do my best, and get through a little more of the easiest workout each time. I have to say that what they say about core work is absolutely true, it makes you stronger quickly. At week 3, I was already noticing that I was able to do my regular gym routine a lot faster.

The pilates instructor announced she would hold a Zumba preview after New Years. "It's based on Latin dance," she said, "And you'll sweat."

I'm not a dancing person, but my first thought was OMG, how jiggly would I look doing THAT? And then I put that back on myself, So? Who cares? Maybe it would be fun.

I signed up, and arrived last night. I was sore from my regular gym routine yesterday morning, and feeling, well, slightly overzealous in this being my second time at the gym that day. Zumba is hard, fast, and definitely makes you sweat and breathe hard. I couldn't follow the steps and by the end, couldn't even feel my feet any more. But I did it. And you know what? I looked exactly the same as everyone else in the class. I noticed although I was pretty winded by the end of each number, by the time we started the next I'd recovered.

When I picked the girls up at the sitter, she said, "You looked pretty good up there."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a camera monitoring the studio, we were watching the class at the front desk..."

I laughed. "Oh geez. You know, the lady behind me said "You looked like you knew what you were doing and so I tried to follow your feet...you did all of the steps exactly wrong." and I laughed at her and said, "Geez, lady. I have no idea what I'm doing."

"You looked like you did. You had good hip movement..."

I laughed again.

I'm glad that I did it. It helps to break out of the can't's. I don't know that it's something I would make part of my normal workout - the timing is hard with the kids, Lauren's indoor soccer practices, dinner (eaten in the car) and bedtime, particularly if they do actually charge a fee and make you sign up for some number of courses. But we'll see. It was fun.

Your fake dad doesn't buy you cigarettes

One of the most popular New Years' resolutions is quitting smoking. I personally am on my sixth quit. I could probably tell you within reasonable certainty about four of them because they corresponded with positive pregnancy tests, but this time I really have no idea. After I had Lindsay, I had the occasional cigarette - one every two to three weeks. I'd have weeks where I'd have one every night. Suddenly when the opportunity was there, I just didn't feel like it. A couple months passed and I realized I wasn't thinking Oh I can't wait until a week from Thursday when I can smoke a cigarette! it just was no longer part of me. It felt weird because smoking consumes a lot of your thinking when you do it. How many cigarettes do I have in my pack? Do I need to stop to get a pack? Do I have my lighter in this pocket? Do I have time to have a cigarette before I go to work? It was constant planning from the moment I extinguished one until I lit the next one up.

I have 3 siblings and each of us at one time smoked or still smoke. We all smoke(d) the same brand of cigarettes. I think that's an odd fact since we didn't do it together as teenagers. I had long since left when Ben started, and Ben lived with my dad and his second wife as a teenager while James lived with my mom and her husband. My dad also smoked them, though he's been quit at least a couple years now.

It helps I have very little exposure now to smokers. It was pretty hard the first time I quit when I was working in the restaurant and the entire staff would light up on break. When I went back to work after having Lauren, it wasn't that I worked with a lot of other smokers, but it was just part of my work routine. But no one lights up here waiting at the bus stop. The smoking moms I've met have been few and far between.

I should probably just pick a date. I know I quit before the spring because the last time I smoked it was cold. March 10th? It just seems sort of arbitrary.

Routine

I meant to post earlier today as part of embracing the familiar and routine. Unfortunately, I had work to do this morning, and it didn't derail my Wednesday morning ritual of yoga class and grocery shopping, followed by lunch with Lindsay, but it meant my blogging time was non-existent.

I've read that there are those of you out there making resolutions, and those of you who are decidedly not. This awful disease my sister has a way of deteriorating her ability to love and care for herself. I can't change that, but I can certainly do better at taking care of myself.

Credit for this pledge goes to Harriet Brown:

I, Epiphany Alone, pledge to speak kindly about my body.

I promise not to talk about how fat my thighs or stomach or butt are, or how I really have to lose 5 or 15 or 50 pounds. I promise not to call myself a fat pig, gross, or any other self-loathing, trash-talking phrase.

I vow to be kind to myself and my body. I will learn to be grateful for its strength and attractiveness and be compassionate towards its failings.

I will remind myself that bodies come in all shapes and sizes, and that no matter what shape and size my body is, it's worthy of kindness, compassion, and love.