Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Where Does the Time Go . . .

The Barenaked Ladies have a song called "The Great Provider" - it is about the angst between a father and his son. I don't have said angst towards my father BUT I do like the lyrics of the song - particularly when they ask "Where does the time go when it's not around here?"

Joy and I looked at each other this weekend and realized . . . we've technically lived in Kansas for a YEAR (I was sofa-surfing for the months of September and October last year but Joy and Ava have been here for a year). It doesn't seem possible.

Life is sooooo different today than it was a year ago. Ava and I flew out last year (Joy drove) and she was barely walking and only uttered a few words. She now has a vocabulary that puts mine to shame and has more energy, a higher vertical leap and a faster running speed than I ever feared she might ever have (smile). She slept almost the entire duration of both flight legs when we flew out. She didn't nap at ALL yesterday and she was up and down throughout the night.

She was barely able to identify Joy or I by name and now she can identify the entire extended family by face, from pictures or voices on the phone with ease! She can count to 10. She knows most of her colors. She can sing A - J of the alphabet (she can go further if you sing with her). She doesn't know what 1 - 10 or A - J MEAN or their significance but she knows them, in order, and can recite them on cue!

Being here a year makes me realize that I'm only a few weeks away from the 18-month mark following my surgery. My "journey" is all but over. I've lost about all the weight I'm going to lose from my surgery. I sit here today well over my initial (or modified) 18 month weight goal and well aware that the last 25 or-so pounds that I need to lose before I assume the rest is all excess skin is going to be HARD to shed.

I wonder if I've squandered parts of this opportunity. I didn't excercise nearly agressively enough. I didn't watch every single bite I put in my mouth. I allowed myself to break some promises (I actually vowed to NEVER AGAIN eat anything "fried" the day before my surgery).

Truth is . . . I focused MORE on the internal and mental parts of the post-surgery experience than the physical parts. I know myself well enough to know that if I didn't start to get that under control (and trust me - I'm nowhere near done with the internal and emotional struggles with food) and if I didn't ensure I would be a better person instead of just a skinnier person - I had NO shot, long term, of not becoming that fat person again.
Do I regret it? HECK NO!

A year ago I was in the mid-300s (330s, 320s). Today, I'm in the mid 200s (I have not been on a scale in MONTHS (will be rectifying that this week, I promise). I may not have learned any more letters or numbers than I knew a year ago and I'm NOT sleeping any more than I was then (grimace) but I'm faster, smarter, leaner and friendlier than I was then. I'm more patient. I'm more understanding. I'm more accomodating and I'm more likely to turn the other cheek when my patience, understanding and accomodation is tested.

I have more weight to lose. Big deal. In my entire LIFE I've had weight that I could stand to lose. Nothing to worry about there.
I'm perfectly happy knowing that I will actually have to WORK to get the last pounds of fat off my body and then I'll have to dreadful task of actually putting muscles back on my body. This whole thing was supposed to be about "work" - right? It was never supposed to be "easy" - right? Fat people shouldn't have any easy solutions or quick fixes, so says the uneducated.

I do wonder where the time went though. Clearly it was not around here!

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