All About Me!

I feel like being totally narcissistic, so I'm going to post an entire blog devoted to glamor pictures of myself!  

NOT!

I was going through a bunch of old photos the other day and came across some of these.  I was certainly not the cutest baby, and my mom always dressed me like a boy, which didn't help...but I was amazed at how much Jake looks like me. (Poor kid)  I've always known it, but seeing these photos of me as a baby was just too much not to share.  You should probably pee before you look at these, because you are guaranteed to have a good laugh, or two, or three - I know I did!

 8 months old, November 1977.  Nearly 35 years later, I'm still waiting for the other dimple to appear and for my eyebrows to grow in.

November 1978.  It was the beginning of the Pajama rage.  Little did the world know it, but 3 1/2 decades later, everyone would be wearing PJ's everywhere - to the grocery store, to pick their children up from school, yes, even to the photographer! I was a trendsetter before I could even talk well!

 Apparently, June of 1979 was a rather cold one in Ocean City, MD!

I didn't break the blankie habit until junior high.  Seriously.

Primping for Thanksgiving dinner is intense.  Too bad no one thought to include Dolly in the preparation...or to just give her a bath.  Ew!

The fruits of our labor paid off.  What could be cuter than a curly pig-tailed girl playing the piano?

Mom basks in the glory of her little star!  I think she cut her own bangs that year too!

 

December 1979 I had a kidney infection or something like that. Miss Piggy and a fire engine are must-haves when you are 2 years old in the hospital.

Welcoming smart ass comments for this one...I drew a blank.

December 1979.  The year the Asian Santas invaded central Pennsylvania.  

December 1980, my version of Farrah Fawcett hair.

1983.  My mom was hoping my sister and I would become sailors.  I married one, is that close enough?

Ah, second grade.  Lovely specs, and home done haircut.  Tight collar and embroidered sweater.  Yes, I was the epitome of style.  If only I could find my first grade picture which, believe it or not, is WAY worse.  The night before first grade pictures were taken at school, my mom got irritated at me and cut off all my hair - herself, in our bathroom.  It was the world's worst hair cut.  On top of that, I had only one front tooth, my collar was half in and half out of my uniform, and the poor photographer tried to fix my whacked out hair, only making it much worse.  I have to find it...and submit it to Awkwardfamilyphotos.com.  I bet it could win a prize.  

Anyone have embarrassing old photos of themselves (or me for that matter) that they'd like to share?  I think it's so much fun going through old pictures.  

Happy Birthday to the Greatest Great Aunt!

Today we sing Happy Birthday to my Great Aunt Carmen!  As you already know, Carmen is one of my all-time favorite people.  She has 79 years of joy, wisdom, and love stored up in that big heart of hers, just waiting to be shared with everyone she encounters.  If everyone retained the generous appreciation for the little things in life like she has, the world would be a much better place.  She is truly an inspiration to me, and I am blessed to have such a wonderful woman in my life! 

My Aunt Carmen, age 3 or 4 (it says on the back 1936 or 1937) with her sister Mary Lou and my Great Grandmother, Anna.

My grandfather, Micky (the cat) and my Aunt Carmen.  In every picture that my grandmother had, she wrote the names of the people on the front.  Instead of calling my grandfather by name, she always wrote "you," as if every photo she had actually belonged to Pap.

My aunt Carmen, uncle Bill, Gram and Pap made a trip to California to visit my cousin Suzanne, either in late 1987 or early 1988.  My poor grandmother is obviously already sick in all of these photos, but it was good for them to have one last opportunity to travel together. 

Gram & Carmen

Sisters warming themselves by the fire.  

This has to be one of my favorite pictures of Carmen.  Look at the way she and the seagull are eyeing one another up.  I don't know anyone who loves animals more than Carmen, and I can just hear her thoughts as she and the seagull regard one another.  So sweet!

Happy Birthday, Aunt Carmen, and many, many more!  

Pet Peeves

I was fortunate enough to steal a half hour phone call with my dear friend Norma on Sunday.  We don't get to talk often, so I always cherish hearing her voice.  In the course of conversation, however, she told me that she found my blog to be sickeningly sweet as of late.  I think she said something like this, "I've been reading your blog and I can't take it.  'Oh, I went to Florida and it was beautiful! I love my husband; he's so wonderful!' Koelle, it makes me want to puke!"  Hahaha!  If you know Norma, you know she said this with the sweetest intonation underlying her sarcasm.  Well, I love Norma so much that I would never, ever want to make her sick.  So, Norma, this blog is for you.  I'm breaking my traditional blogging personality to make you a list of things I hate!  Here goes nothing!

• Litter bugs.  Come on, people.  Throw your trash away!  The rest of the world isn't here to pick up after you.  It's disgusting, ill-mannered and inconsiderate.  
• Late people.  Also inconsiderate.  The world runs on standard timing principles, not on YOUR time.  Get a watch and use it.  
• Sugar.  OK, actually I love sugar.  I love it so much that I have to hate it for its addictive qualities.
• Winter, cold, snow and ice.  Honestly, I can't complain much this year.  It was 55 degrees here today.  We have only had one significant snowfall all season and it melted completely in less than a week.  Still, I much prefer the heat and sun of summer.  What can I say?  I'm a fair weather gal!
• Finding whatever I am searching for empty.  i.e. no toilet paper on the roll, no paper towels in the dispenser, an empty box of cereal in the cupboard, an empty box of pens in the cabinet at work.  I don't know what irritates me more - that someone has left the scene unprepared for the next person or that someone didn't care enough to throw away their own garbage.  I guess this is a partial extension of my litter bug aversion.
• The scale.  Enough said.
• Insomnia, heart palpitations, night sweats and anxious dreams. Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh.
• Getting older.  Wrinkles.  Stray facial hairs.  Back fat.  Back fat?  Gross!  At least I can pluck the chin hair!
• Not being able to run.  Having a cinched back and aching hip 24/7.  I think this is directly correlated to getting older.  Next I'll be donning a cane.  You have permission to call me "Granny."
• PMS.  Also, enough said.
• Sibling rivalry.  A 4500 square foot house can seem incredibly small sometimes.
• Doing homework with Jake.  It's as if I am putting him through some kind of medieval torture ceremony.  Good grief!
• Speaking of torture...  Do all 9 year olds view personal hygiene as torture?  Since when did brushing teeth and showering become grounds for a nervous breakdown?
• Arrogant, insensitive and know-it-all people.  It does everyone good to practice a little humility from time to time.
• Grudge holders.  People who are always right and don't have the ability to forgive are doing themselves and everyone around them a huge disservice.  Forgiveness is one of God's greatest gifts.  If He can forgive all of my hair brained indiscretions, then I can certainly forgive yours.  Besides, forgiveness isn't really for the person who did wrong, but rather for the victim.  Holding a grudge just makes you bitter, and it's a real turn off to everyone around you too.  We all meet our Maker one day.  Let go, and leave the judging up to God.  
• People who can't take a joke and who are never happy.  I really believe that even in the worst case scenario, there's humor and light.  Sometimes you just have to try a little harder to find it.  Lighten up, and you might just find some appreciation you never saw before!

And, thanks to Norma's insistence that I kill the rainbows and butterflies, I have come to find that I apparently have a real problem with other drivers, which I find incredibly funny because I am probably one of the worst drivers out there! (I told you about when I drove the van full of clients into the bank, right?  Yeah, that's right, into.the.bank. Click the link if you haven't already read the story)   Here's what I hate about other drivers:

• Tailgaters.  Back off.  Riding my ass is not going to make me go any faster.  In fact, I just slow down.  It's dangerous, and if we're in an accident, you're going to be at fault for following me too closely, so like I said, back off already!
• People who leave their cars running while they go into the convenience store or take their kids to day care, etc.  It's winter.  I get it.  Warm up your vehicle for a little bit in the morning.  Honestly though, do you really think that the car is going to significantly cool down in the time it takes you to order a hot dog and grab a Gatorade?  Or in the summer, do you think 5 minutes inside the day care makes that big of a difference?  I can tell you that it doesn't.  And really, on a day like today, at 55 degrees and sunny, there's no reason to leave your car running while you go into Sheetz to buy an MTO.   It's a waste of gas, and it's polluting the environment.  It's not so hard to turn the key and start it up again.  Turn the damn thing off. 
• Inefficient parking.  Do yourself a favor and if you haven't already, learn to parallel park.  Pull up close to the person in front of or behind you.  Don't park them in, but don't leave 5 feet of space either.  Where I work, parking is at a premium.  Every single day I see people who waste parking spaces.  It's maddening, especially when the weather is bad.  If you live or work where you have to street park, learn to park right!  I swear one of these days I'm going to bring it up at an All-Staff training.
• People who ignore the turning lane, and instead slow way down on the main road before making a turn.  That lane outlined in yellow with the arrows inside it is there so that you don't cause an accident.  Use it!  And use your turn signal too, while you're at it!

I believe that concludes my list of pet peeves for now.  Who knows, maybe I'll be more in tune with what bothers me, now that I'm thinking about it.  How's that for a sour and salty post, Norma?  Did I ease your queasiness?  ;)

Let's Go Fly A Kite

One crisp, yet sunny winter day in early 2007,  Greg bought Jake an awesome kite and we took him to Raystown to fly it.  Jake was a little over 3 and a half years old, the same age as Andrew is now.  Jacob was thrilled about his kite.  He loved it.  He loved it so much that when we got it up and flying, he freaked out and insisted that we reel it in, because he was terrified of losing it.  The kite adventure was a failure, at least on the kite-flying front.  We ended up spending the day admiring the beauty of the lake and soaking up the sun despite the chill in the air.  Lucky for you all, I had just gotten my new digital camera.  It must have been near March, because I bought that camera for myself for my birthday.  Oh well, timing doesn't really matter.  What matters is that I was able to capture the day in pictures and share them with the world!  Here are just a few:

It was a colder spring, because there's actually ice on the lake in this photo.

Look how little he was, and what a goofy hat!  Aw.

Getting ready to fly the kite!

A tearful reunion.

Sunday was very much deja vu all over again, sans tantrum.  It was a beautiful day, so we took Andrew to Raystown to fly his kite.  Now sadly, Andrew is the second child, and instead of a big, awesome, sturdy kite, he got a blow-up spider man kite that he found in the toy closet and was probably purchased at a dollar store.  No matter.  He was happy regardless.  But the kite sucked.  Try as we might, it wouldn't fly for more than 30 seconds at a time.  After repeated attempts and frustrations, we laughed it off and threw the damn thing back into the car.  The day wasn't a loss, however.  The sun was shining, the birds were flying, the water was glistening and there was a playground to be conquered!  We had a great time just soaking up the sun and breathing in the fresh air.  There certainly is something to be said for just going with the flow!  

Andrew left one ear out of his hat so that he would be sure to hear us calling him when play time was over. 

This time of year, the lake is quiet...

...but still beautiful

Daddy makes the best playmate!

Mom is good for a snuggle now and then.

"Hey Dad!  I think I see your boat!"

"Hey, Kite.  You are supposed to be in the air."

"Up, up you go!"

"Aw.  Stupid kite doesn't know how to fly!"

It made one token appearance in the sky before...

...earning its burial at sea. 

"I'm gonna catch me some seagulls!"

"Sunshine on the water looks so lovely..."

Tossing "smell-mellows" to the birds.

As much as I hate birds, I still have to admit the grace and beauty in their flight.

And I was amused to see them eating our "smell-mellows!"

Lasagna Anyone?

I'm not really a good cook.  I can follow a recipe well, but I've never been one of those people who could just throw stuff together and make edible creations.  In fact, I never even started following recipes until I married Greg.  When I was in college, I ate out for meals or I ate nothing at all.  After college, I lived with my first husband and he did all the cooking.  Then I lived with my parents, both of whom are excellent cooks, so I just never had the need to learn.  Now that I've been in the kitchen doing more than just the dishes, I will admit that I enjoy it.  But enjoying something and being good at it are two different things.  Like I said, I can follow a recipe - I'm not a complete disaster - but I'm certainly no chef.

That said, there are three things that I make from scratch that I think are better than a lot of other people's versions.  Since I'm admitting mediocrity at everything else, I'm going to go ahead and toot my own horn (sort of) for these three things: my banana bread, my homemade baked macaroni and cheese, and my lasagna.  Now, in order to be perfectly fair, all three of these recipes were originally my mom's. I did not come up with them out of the clear blue of my mind.  I've made them so often over the years (yes, these were things that I even made before I had Jacob and moved home), that I no longer use the written recipes, and in fact I stray from them, just a bit here and there.  My mom still makes a mean lasagna, but I think at this point, my banana bread and mac and cheese is better than hers.  Sorry, Mom.  I still love your cooking!

I know I've shared the banana bread and mac and cheese recipes on here before.  The original blog entry says that I use wheat germ in the banana bread, which is true...sometimes.  But I also frequently substitute the regular flour 100% with quinoa flour.  It just depends on my mood and who I'm baking for.  I don't think I've shared the lasagna recipe, so for your enjoyment today, here it is.  It's not difficult, but it is time consuming.  I actually don't make it very often at all - in part because of the time, but also because of the noodles.  I have read about substituting sliced zucchini for the noodles, but I have yet to try it.  Has anyone had success with that?  I like a lot of veggies in my lasagna, and I also like them to keep a little crunch, so I don't cook them prior to making the lasagna.  That can make the lasagna a little watery at times, and I'm afraid that if I use zucchini instead of noodles, I'll have nothing but a big watery mess.  Anyway, here's the recipe - keep in mind that I don't actually use a written recipe anymore, so I'm guessing on quantities.  I made it last night and it didn't fail to please us!  Also, these amounts of ingredients easily make two normal sized lasagnas.  It's such a pain that I always make two and typically freeze one.  This time I gave one to my mom.  It's great for time saving later, or for sharing :) 

Cheese mixture ingredients: 

2 lb container of ricotta cheese

3 eggs

1 cup Parmesan & Romano cheese

4 cups of mozzarella cheese 

salt, pepper and oregano to taste

2-4 cloves of garlic (to taste), minced

Throw it all in a large bowl...

...and mix it up til it looks like this gooey mess. 

I like making lasagna, but I'm not nuts. I use jarred sauce and pre-made noodles, of course.  I like the Barilla no cook noodles, because, well, they're easy.  I also like DelGrosso sauce because it's easy, it's good, and a friend of mine is married to the VP of Global Marketing for DelGrosso foods.  They're a wonderful family and a great local business that gives back to their community.  They've been so good to us with donations for our families at work and for work events, etc.   And they are just the sweetest people ever!  I have to put in a little plug for Uncle Fred's Firework Sauce in the LaFamiglia DelGrosso line.  It's got just enough kick to it!  I LOVE it!  

As for veggies, you can use whatever floats your boat.  I like a mix of red and green peppers, mushrooms and spinach.  I have frequently made veggie lasagna with just these ingredients as well as chopped zucchini and squash.  Yesterday, I browned 3 pounds of ground meat with onions for the lasagna instead of the extra veggies.

Layer your stuff in the pans.  I guess it doesn't matter what order you do it in.  I typically do sauce, noodles, cheese, veggies, ground beef.  Repeat once.  

Veggies

Hamburger.  I threw the onions in with the raw meat and cooked it all together.  Worked out well, and cut out the step of sauteing the onions.  

Top with more mozzarella cheese and Parmesan.  Bake covered at 400 for about 40 minutes.  Uncover  for another 20 minutes.  When it's bubbly on the sides and browning the cheese slightly, it's done.  (Put your lasagna on a cookie sheet or put foil on the oven floor, because it may drip).  Let it stand for a few minutes before you cut into it.   Enjoy! 

Dining Room Table Debauchery

We never eat at our dining room table. This is the primary reason why:

"I swear the table cloth was getting out of line!  Someone had to teach it a lesson!"

"Is the coast clear?  This medium sized, transparent bowl is the perfect accessory for a covert operation!" 

"Who goes there?"

"Straighten up the table?  What are you, nuts?"

"Wild wrestling matches with poly/cotton blend table covers can be absolutely exhausting.  The material is amazingly resilient...and stain resistant too!" 

"Your attempts at humor bore me, insolent human."

"Go, and leave me to my disorder."

Ghostly Encounter

Last night was awful.  Actually, last night was really fun until about 1130.  Our neighbor's came over for dinner, and some mutual friends joined us a little later.  The men "jammed" while the women played the role of steadfast groupies, in between appeasing Andrew's playful needs.  It was nice evening, but I'm getting old and I can't hang til the wee hours of the morning any more.  I said my goodbyes to the band around 1130 and went to bed.

Did I mention there was wine involved?  Oh, and Kelley made a delicious peanut butter pie that I just had to eat!  Alcohol gives me heart palpitations if I drink too much.  Carbs do the same.  I knew what I was in for, but often times a drink and some sugar is worth a little bit of discomfort later.  I drank some water with chia seeds in an attempt to lesson the effect.   I'm sure it did help a little, but not enough.  When I got into bed, my heart just raced and raced and raced.  I was just about to fall asleep around 1 when Andrew started crying.  I checked on him.  He was fine.  I went  back to bed.  15 minutes  later, he was crying again. Bad dreams maybe?   Poor little guy.   He was up 4 times between 1 and 230.  I was STILL awake at 230.  Ugh.  Greg came to bed sometime around 230, and the next time Andrew got up, Greg got him.  Still, I woke up too.  The last time Andrew was up, it was because he peed the bed (Sharon, didn't I say he would pee the bed?  All that juice and fresh clean sheets guarantee a wet night!)  All in all, I think Greg and I slept maybe 2 hours last night.  Well, I slept 2 hours, because at 7 Greg started snoring so loudly that no other human could remain asleep next to him.  He's still sleeping, so woo hoo, he's going to get a whopping 3 hours of sleep, because Jake has a basketball game in an hour and a half, so I'm going to wake him up soon.  I think we'll all be napping this afternoon.

I really didn't start writing this blog to tell you about our disrupted sleep last night.  I'm writing to tell you about what I saw last night.  During that one and a half hour stretch, I actually fell into a pretty deep sleep.  I was dreaming a very odd dream about being away somewhere with a bunch of people I didn't know and the top layer of skin on my thumb, including my finger nail fell off, leaving me with just an open throbbing wound.  I was searching for a hospital for treatment, but I was also trying to carry home a large gift bags full of books attached to several Mylar balloons for Andrew.  Tying the balloons was proving to be a difficult task without a usable thumb, but I never got to the end of the dream, because the cat touched my leg and woke me up.  Thanks Sam.  It was the pad on his paw that touched me, and at first I thought it was Andrew's tiny fingers.  Once I realized it was Sam, I was relieved, but wide awake...again.  I rolled over and that's when I saw it.  The ghost...or something like that.

Greg was sleeping face down and it was hovering over his back.  Now, it was night time, and I have terrible night vision, but I was not asleep.  It was not a hallucination.  I am certain that I saw something, I just don't know what it was.  It was a blurry, white-ish blob.  My first thought was that it was our cat, but I knew that he was sleeping soundly at my feet.  I double checked on Sam.  Yep, still at the foot of the bed.  I raised my head and squinted my eyes - blob still there.  I didn't feel scared at all, just a little confused.  I rolled onto my side, stared at it a few moments longer, still couldn't determine what it was, so I went back to sleep.  Yes, I just casually went to sleep, leaving Greg with some kind of entity floating nonchalantly above him.  I'm that kind of wife.

I don't know what it was, but it was something.  I go back and forth between believing in ghosts and not believing, but obviously I tend to lean closer to the believer side of things.  The people who lived in this house before us swear that an elderly woman has taken up permanent residence here.  They have tons of stories about her.  When Greg and I first moved in, we had several unexplainable experiences too, but they have decreased in frequency lately.  If you ask ghost aficionados, they would tell you that ghosts tend to "act up" during periods of transition.  We haven't had much transition lately - no construction, no major life events.  Things are stable, and the ghosts are content to be dormant.

Except for last night.  One of them felt a compelling need to appear.  Maybe she was awed by Greg's drumming last night and felt the need to draw from his energy.  Greg does ooze enthusiasm.  I can see the attraction.  (Of course I can.  I married him, didn't I?)  So what do you think that was?  Was it the old lady?  Just a ball of energy?  What?  Have you ever had a similar experience?  I've heard and smelled unexplainable things before, but this was my first ghost sighting.  The topic is open for discussion - gimme what you've got!

Not So Lazy After All

Last week, I think my mind was still in Florida.  I had tons to do around the house, but I actually did very little.  The mess didn't even bother me very much.  I cleaned.  I vacuumed and mopped, did lots of laundry, finished putting away my Christmas decorations (with Greg's help), and wiped down some floorboards.  I did the daily stuff, like packing lunches, running and unloading the dishwasher and wiping down counters, but the rest of the stuff I let be.  I didn't dust.  I didn't reorganize any of my closets.  I didn't sort out toys or wash any windows.  I just didn't want to.  I took a nap last weekend instead of cleaning - both days.  I putzed around on the Internet, looking at cute and cuddly pictures of cats.  I went sled riding and posted blog entries.  I read the newspaper.  It was an OK way to spend my time.  Quite OK, actually.

I also felt very unmotivated at work.  I did what I had to do.  I reviewed folders, ran copies, assisted with caseload management as needed, but my heart wasn't in any of it.  I felt rather lazy and unfocused.  I wanted to be home.  I wanted to play with my kids and visit my friends.  My priorities had been tipped - not toppled, but off balance nonetheless.  I even considered that perhaps my New Year's resolution to focus less on my obsession with order and cleanliness was self-actuating.  I admit that part of me was a little worried that I was becoming depressed, but another part of me was kind of pleased with this new found lackadaisical attitude.

Alas, the laid back approach was short lived.  Whenever I have gone through these periods of semi-apathy, I always bounce back with fervor.  I realize all of the things that I have let go, and I attack them with vigor.  I think it was inevitable that I would eventually revert to my old ways.  The oh-so-sweet sloth met his demise this evening.  It started innocently enough.  Greg has this weekend off of work, and I hate to spend the weekends cleaning when we have the opportunity for family recreation.  So, while Jake was at swimming lessons, I decided to start my housekeeping.  Sometimes I amaze myself at how quickly I can knock out cleaning when I get into the zone.  Mom took Jake to the YMCA, and I played on the floor with Andrew for about 20 minutes.  Then I folded one load of laundry and started another. (I love having a first floor laundry.  It makes keeping up with the tons of dirty clothes that we generate a breeze!)  I dusted the entire first and second floors of my house in the 40 minutes between when Jake left and when Andrew and I had to leave to pick him up.  If you've been here, you know that I have a fairly big home.  It accumulates a good amount of dust.  Not any more.  Dust be gone!

When we returned from swimming, I put Andrew in the bath while I vacuumed my second floor.  Andrew was content in the tub, so I scrubbed him, and cleaned the toilet while he played.  He still wasn't ready to get out of the bath, so I mopped the second floor while I listened to him splish-splash.  I dried Andrew off, dressed him, got him a snack and commenced cleaning.  I vacuumed the stairs to the game room and second floor, and wiped both sets of stairs as well as the floorboards, railings and rungs by hand.  The boys played nicely together while I wiped down all of my kitchen cupboards, cleaned the clock above the TV and folded and washed another load of laundry.

That's enough for today.  I put the bucket away, read to the boys and put them to bed.  I didn't sleep much last night (surprise, surprise), so even though I'm not quite ready for bed just yet, I'm definitely ready to relax.  A cold beer is calling my name...and maybe (just maybe) a few chips too!  I'm actually eager to finish my cleaning tomorrow.  I don't have too much left to do - just the bathrooms, the floors and putting away laundry.  I can knock that out tomorrow evening easily.  Then I'll have Friday to do my grocery shopping and that will complete the tasks for the week, leaving the weekend open for play! Yay!

I'm back on the ball at work too.  Since Monday I have reviewed 16 folders, led a Direct Service Team meeting, attended the very brief DST and Safety Committee debriefing meeting, led 8 Kid In Discussion meetings, wrote 8 corresponding action plans for those kids, scheduled a bunch of stuff for next week, and also began reviewing the protocol for our annual federal review posted on the Early Childhood Learning and Knowledge Center by the the federal office of Head Start.  (Boy, doesn't that sound like a fun time!?! You can click the link if you're super curious about the federal office of Head Start and all it's workings!)

I'm back in the game now.  My routine has been restored.  Relaxed?  No, not exactly...but I am content.  There's something to be said for feeling comfortable with your own compulsions and drive.  Maybe I'm just not meant to be so lazy after all.

Every Pound Is Beautiful

I've been debating whether or not to publish this post for quite some time.  It's certainly not a very uplifting or happy post.  It's guaranteed not to make you laugh.  After some contemplation, I decided that everyone is well aware that life isn't always funny; that it can be rather serious at times.  I'm being serious right now.  I also know that while some people are very open about their struggles and grief, many others suffer alone.  I keep my personal door half open.  While I might not want to share every last detail of my issues with the world, the opportunity for discussion is there - for my own healing, and for the possibility that someone else may recognize and address their own struggles because of something that I have said.  Even if you feel absolutely isolated, chances are that someone out there can relate to you and help.  

This year, National Eating Disorder Awareness week is Feb 26-March 3rd. That's a while away, but it's something that I think about almost daily. It's something that I've struggled with off and on, to various degrees, pretty much my entire life. I don't keep the fact that I have grappled with anorexia and bulimia a secret. Spend a little time with me, or just read my blog, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that I have an unbalanced perspective in regards to food and body image.  Most of the details of my disorder are a non-issue now - just gruesome, valueless particularities. I don't frequent those behaviors any more, and frankly, I am quite ashamed of what I have done. Shame does not keep me from acknowledgement, however.  Just like the other struggles I have endured, battling an eating disorder was also a necessary evil. I am aware now of what I was doing, what I am doing, and what others are going through. 

I can remember being terribly ashamed of my body starting in 3rd grade. I recall sneaking food out of the cupboard so that I could secretly eat in the basement starting around the time I was 8 or 9 years old.  I bought my first pack of diet pills at a local pharmacy when I was 12, the summer after 6th grade. All through junior high and high school I would limit my food intake and exercise as much as possible. Towards the end of my high school career, I found ipecac syrup. Oh my was that a disgusting and violent way to purge! It has a maple flavor to it, and I couldn't eat pancake syrup until I was well into my 20's, just from the association.

By college, my bulimia was in full swing, and I reached the peak of my disorder my junior year at Allegheny. I was vomiting multiple times every day, taking laxatives, diet pills, smoking like a chimney, and exercising as much as I could take. And no, I wasn't skinny. I wasn't fat, but I certainly wasn't rail thin, not when I was at my worst. It's a common misconception that everyone with an eating disorder looks like a skeleton. Not true. In fact, people struggling with bulimia are often of average weight, or even have a little to spare.   Many people who are obese have eating disorders too.  I have had times since college where my weight dipped way down. At my lowest, I was 102, right after my first marriage. I wasn't vomiting then. I was starving.

Eating disorders are so much more than just a desire to be thin. In fact, the thinness is often little more than a concrete goal behind a slew of other mental health issues. Yes, the media feeds into the problem, but I would never blame Hollywood for the prevalence of eating disorders in the United States.  It's just too simple to say I want to look like Demi Moore.  More often than not, it's about control and perfection, misdirected coping skills, and depression.  It makes a liar out of an honest person. It creates guilt and shame that, when not addressed, lead to more and more extreme behaviors.  It's a compulsion, not all together different from a drug addiction. I often found it so ironic that something I created in order to gain control over my life actually ended up controlling my every move. Lost in the abyss of an eating disorder is a terrible place to be. No one chooses it voluntarily. It finds its victims, and often it kills them.  

I frequently hear people joking about eating disorders, casually tossing around terminology. I may even join in on the banter, but the truth is that when I hear those things, a little piece of me cringes with shame for what I have done, with guilt for judging another person, and with heartfelt compassion for someone else's grief. I have come to accept that my battle with food is life long. I've done my time, seen  therapists, gone through the recovery process.  My struggle now is to keep it in check. It would be a lie to say that I haven't had any binge eating and vomiting episodes since my junior year of college. It would also be a lie to say that I haven't tried to starve myself or pushed myself too far at the gym in an attempt to lose weight.   I think we all know that my obsession with "healthy" food is simply a substitute for an obsession with unhealthy eating patterns.  I am closer to balance now than I ever was, but I know that it is a fine line to walk, a slippery slope.  It's a daily check list, a constant log of emotions, and consistent reminders that I can't - I don't want to - end up where I was 15 years ago.

If you know someone with an eating disorder, or have one yourself, I urge you to seek professional help. Like any addiction, you can't fix it on your own. If you know someone who is struggling, try to find a way to speak and act with compassion, without enabling the disorder to continue. It could cost a life.