AND.......its been a week!

7 days at under 1500 Calories each day

7 days without white sugar or flour

7 days with at least an hour or more of exercise

7 days recording everything I eat.

7 days of drinking my face off and literally camping out in the wc

7 days of still cooking 'normally' for friends and fam and not partaking (this included 4 dozen sugar cookies and 3 dozen homemade biscuits) not a bite....

Pray for me schmeeples.....it feels like the devil himself lives in my shoulder and hip this morning. I'm tough, but still need the extra boosts to get me through.

My 20 year anniversary with Marc (since our first date) is this fall, and I want to have my body match my spirit by then.

Do you know what that means?

Since my weight issues have been seemingly insurmountable it just has felt like my vivacious and free and adventurous and enthusiastic SPIRIT has not matched my tired, exhausted, painful, frustrating, limiting, heavy, perpetually 'stuck' BODY.

The only way you can relate to my dilema is to imagine yourself doing any excercise while having the flu. Yep, thats how it feels pretty much everytime. Also think about how much you care about what you eat when you are really sick. Its been that way for me for a long long time. Survival mode. But.....

I want them to match again. MY spirit and MY body with an = equals mark inbetween.





Its absolutely NOT going to be easy. This I know. But, this time I am 'sharing'. Barf, gag, burf..... I HATE that part. HATE. Yet, I have a feeling that is the part I have been missing. So.........

There ya go. That was this week. I will weigh in tomorrow, and if you think I will 'share' that part, UM,.....you be c.r.a.z.y.!

Thanks for the support! I need it! AND Can finally admit it!!! Sort of.

Personalites Literature-aly

If someone says to you, "He is such a Romeo.". You surely know what that person is saying, right? It means that guy is a romantic dreamer, a gushy love bug. Everyone knows that. True?

I think most do. And, if they don't they should... (yes, I know you shouldn't start a sentence with 'and'...but I felt like it... :p)

If we are friends, and honk knows I hope we are if you are taking time to read my blog, because otherwise you are oddly interested in some strange lady from Seattle. Either category is welcome to read, nonetheless...

As I was saying, if we are friends....... You know that I often speak Literature-aly. Not literally, although, I am want to do so from time to time, but....Literature-ally. Here is how.



If I want to convey to you that my opinions of people at large, I can be caught saying things like, "He is such a Mercutio." Translation = I think he is a fool.

Its so much easier to say that than explain every aspect and or condition of that personality type. Effective? Yes. Always understood, No, not by most.

Those who do understand,.......I loooooooooooooooooooooooooovvvvvvvvvvvve, with lots of gluttonous oooooo's in the middle. Its such a relief to know, YOU know!



Perhaps you know a girl who is congenial in the most delicate way. Brave. Honorable, devoted to family, patient beyond belief, compelled to humility, or perhaps even endowed with raven-like locks. I would call her names. I would! She would be a Natasha. I admire and flaunt Natash-ness all over my verbage. War and Peace me baby.



We all know someone who just cannot catch a break in their formative years. Sadness follows them like a cursory shadow. Yet, they triumph and eventually turn their shadow into a spectrum of rainbowlike heroism. He is a N2 (Nicholas Nickleby, 2 N's, = N squared)



I don't think I have actually ever met a genuine Elizabeth Bennett. You DO know of whom I'm writing? Right? Write? Right?

There are some who magnify a large portion of her qualities or have a whimsical wandering into of a few characteristics. However, few find her for long or embody her forever.

If you hear me say, "You are so Elizabeth B right now!" Consider yourself complimented.



If you find your young self tormented by teasing from an opposite gender. I often just suggest an allusion to a one of my favorites. Gilbert. Anne of the Gables Green realized he was just literally (not literature-aly) CRAZY about her and could not contain himself. It will just get worse, so call him out. "You are such a Gilbert!"




I could go on forever and ever and ever, but last but not least I thought I'd share a marital favorite. Whenever my tall handsomeness does a stealthy good marriage deed, in the 'extra mile' and 'unheralded' category I'll give him and wink and a loved rushed, "You are such a Darcy."

No, not a 'darling' a "Darcyling".

Huge difference. Bingleys are nice too. Think I might have married the perfect combination of one half Darcy one half Bingley :0) He is no Wickam, cause' I could not abide any "Wickam-ness", ever.

I would have punched a Wickam in the bits and kicked his knickered arse to the 'literal' curb. True that.

If you get my drift, which after this post, YOU SHOULD.

If you don't, then I suppose you might be a Mr. Collins :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

Oh, all right. I'll try again. :)

I'm a professional. Professional dieter. Did you know that? I probably know more about nutrition and exercise and dieting than anyone else I know. Yet, I have failed and yo yoed, myself into an extreme range on the scale. I have clothes in about a 10 different size range.

I have lost enormous amounts of weight over the years, if you total it all. AND, have gained it all back lots of times.

I have always done it by myself. I am stubborn, personal and private.

This time, I am sticking a toe in the warm and loving water of camaraderie and support. I have always missed this piece in my efforts. I have never let anyone help me.

So, its time. Ouch. Nervous. Freaking out.

We will see if it makes the difference.

I want to also leave my excuses here. I don't want to use them anymore.

1. My Lupus keeps me from feeling good enough to excercise.
2. My joints hurt, I am in too much pain to move or exercise.
3. Taking steroids makes me perpetually hungry and swollen
4. Taking steroids makes me gain weight.
5. Healthy food costs to much, fresh meat and veggies are expensive and I don't have the resources right now.
6. But, its Christmas, New Years, My birthday, Mother's day, Easter, Graduation, Vacation, Friday night, a BBQ, a game, General Conference ETC,....ETC,.... ETC,....
7. If I lose the weight, men look at me and I would rather be hidden and 'off the radar'
8. Its too much work to make food just for me, AND for the rest of the family
9. Its raining and I will get sick if I am cold for too long
10. I need my 4 o'clock coke for the energy to get through the night.

Okay, there are 10 reasons I'm leaving here on this page and not taking them with me for the next 10 weeks.

I remember when this photo was taken at BYU Hawaii. I remember feeling fat and ugly. I was so foolish and so silly. I will never look like that again, as I am 40 years old and have had 3 kids and a myriad of illnesses. I don't expect that, I just want to be well this time and forget how I look. I've got to get past the surface this time. If I thought I was fat and ugly here, then, I've been WAY off on my self perception for a long long time.

I need to repent. It really comes to that. I need to take better care of this body I have been blessed with. I am going to do better, and this time ask for some help. I am going to admit I can't do it alone and pray everyday to 'make my weak things strong again' and then hold on with all my might!

We'll see...Wish me luck!

A sense of place...

Driving back from my doctor in Bellevue today, I had such a moment. It was nothing transitory or extreme, but instead just a sense of quiet belonging. Ah, Maple Valley..... H.O.M.E.

I love where I live. It only takes a small dose of 'urban' to make me crave 'Sub(urban)'.

Silly moments like yesterday at the "Do IT" center. Lily loves the little free bag of popcorn she gets when we go there. She and I were seed shopping. I am nervous about my tomato plants so we decided to cheat and by at least 4 tall ones on sale so we can guarantee tomatoes this year.

This sweetheart service gal walked us all the way outside to show us where they were and all three of us took in a breath of tomato plant together. Ahhhhhhh, now THAT smells like summer. We all closed our eyes and had flashes of lake and sun and fresh tomatoes.



A sense of being from a place is priceless. HOME. Home IS where your hearth is. Literally and idealistically. My ideal is now my real.



There is nothing like getting your big bird wings and taking a lap around the sun. I need to fly out of the nest pretty much everyday to be content. I am a flyer for sure. But now, I am also a nester. I adore the slightly lavender/lilac/baking bread/laundry soap/puppy dog/dusty book/muddy sneaker smell of my entry hall. LOVE. I'm HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! or Hoooooooooooooooooooooooome!!!! Depending on who is there.



Its slight the way I glean a tidbit here and there of the sense of being in the right place. Its almost undetectable, but its also ever present. It comes from the light nuances of life here in Maple Valley.

Perhaps its the repetitions. We haven't lived in a place this long ever. 5 years this June. Five. That is long for us. Us, who have moved 9 times in 15 years.

I feel a sense of place for the first time in a long time. It is in the details like my favorite cranky Scottsman who owns the Black Diamond Bookstore, he is sort of a pill. I totally love him, because of that. Being a pill I understand. :)

There is 'place' in an arranged carpool where we all take turns with steaming football players fogging up the windows.

There is 'place' in finding flowers on your porch on the day you need it the most.

There is 'place' in the pleasure of changing season and expectation of the floral displays onset, or the growth of a familiar tree.

There is 'place' in a community performance with all the hushed and expectant parents careening for a look at their offspring in talent mode.

There is 'place' when you walk the neighborhood and have to wave and smile so much at everyone passing by that you feel as if you have walked with a myriad of friends.

There is 'place' when I look through my windows at night and see a neighborhood all tucked in and peaceful.

There is 'place' when I get a serious case of the giggles with my friends.

Ah, there is 'place'. Its a soothing balm to my wanderlusty soul.

Finally.

The Grand Carpet Party

A debisgarden share: The 'carpet party'.

Often when the rhythm of life changes to a happy hum, I turn back to a raising small kids favorite. The carpet party.

When I feel the subtle change of season pull me forward. I turn a cold stubborn shoulder to 'Father Time' tell him to hold it just a second...

I'm not yet done with my motherin' and he's gonna have to wait out my presence.

I still have these babies under my roof for a bit longer, you see. They are still on loan for a while, to ME.


When I am feeling sentimental and don't want to let go of my grasp, I head for the tried and true.

The carpet party is one of them.

It can be outside with blankets or inside with pillows. It is always on the floor, sitting. Plan on someone spilling something on you and stepping on your favorite snack and then when it happens, you can say to yourself, "Hey, I was planning on that, no biggie." Lets carry on...

Spring comes and life breathes deep a fetid return of green. Grass as carpet. Yes, toss your shag and your berber out da door girl. Hit the deep green for a carpet party galore.
Imaginations explode as we take the inside out. Inside OUT. Blankets and tea cups and snacks and books and sunglasses and shaddy umbrellas.

Dappled light and shiney hair take the focus from 'in there'. We celebrate the day sitting "Criss Cross". Yeah, if you want you can bring applesauce.

Even with my seemingly giant sized boys, I can announce a 'carpet party' and there is a look of relieved glee to make me smile. They still love it. If its raining outside we take blankets and fill the floor, toss a few packs of cards out for a game or two and eat popcorn and drink hot cocoa.

Note from the veteran 'carpet party crew', keep the fluffy dogs at bay. They can wreck a carpet party faster than any word you can say.


The grand carpet party is staple of Reeves life. Our life. Take a note from an old lady and throw a blanket down for a memory maker. Tis' Grand.

Take this CAKE and SHOVE it......

I'm starting to feel pretty cozy wid my 40 yr old sef. I'm still changing, people keep doing that somehow. Changing. This time, though, I'm shifting to a sort of celebration.

I've spent some years in 'self deprecation' mode. Not consecutively, mind you, but if you add up the days and weeks its years. Years.

Okay, so I'm going to confess. I'm a cake shover. CAKE SHOVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So sue me. I shoved. I did. We met. We talked. We kissed. We missionaried. We married. I SHOVED. Cake. In "His" face. Yep.

I heard something in my heart. I heard my identity call from the darkness and say, "Be yourself this one last time before you morph into a wife and mother, be YOU!"

I did it.

and now

I'M GLAD!!!!! I AM GLAD!!!!!!!!! glad, glad, glad, glad, glad, glad, gladdy, glad, glad.

I'm a passionate person. Very. I am literally a little crazy about things like:

LIFE
MARC
BEAUTY
ADAM
FLOWERS
CARTER
THE OCEAN
LILY
TRUTH
SAM
ART
EMILY
BOOKS
MATT
JEWELRY
JEFF
SURFING


and on and on...

Okay, you feel me. People and passions. I don't feel a whisper of a thrill during discussions about let's say, ...directions, fastest routes ( yep, I get lost a lot), or let's say...gas prices ( I have NO control over it, so how does constant whining help?), or let's say.....the weather ("Um, NO, I'm not surprised its sunny, rainy, windy, snowing, or sleeting even, because by definition weather is just that...EVER CHANGING, its weather, duh.)

(Forgive me, but I love the expression, 'duh' and 'der' and 'fer', its so white trash, and it so works for me. Timeless. You think Audrey Hepburn, I think of expressions like, "No doi...", and "Fer rude".)

Don't get me wrong, I dig simple. There is something comforting about weather and directions and who wants to walk up to somebody and hear, "I was just sharing my deepest darkest secret.....you wanna hear it?" No, I don't. But, if you are going to talk about exits on freeways I'm outta here mas rapido.

So what that all means is that I am a 'cake shover'. Hi, my name is Debi and I'm a cake shover. A bonified member of CSA Cake Shovers Anonymous. I think I'm honorary president in fact. And, now, I'm finally proud of it.


Here is why.

Life just cracks me up. It does. Life is funny!!!! Cake in the face is funny! Cake in the face of the one you love is even hilarious to me. I would have thought it was hilarious if Marc did it back to me big time! Instead a deep hush of disdain cursed over the crowd and Marc went to wash his face. I was subjected to eventual humiliations therein, including public chastisements thereof.

Eh, I'm over it. And NOW,I'm proud of it. I am. I am so happy I listened to myself. I am so mad I stopped. And, SO glad I started again!! Yay! Me!

I think I just feel everything a little deeper. Is it my fault if I see in technicolor whilst others see in black and white? Surface stuff suffocates me. I live in the deep end baby, taking BIG bites and cracking up all the while.I've learned the shallow end is certainly pretty and safe and seems so much more peaceful, but unless you are true to yourself you can get a mean case of swimmers ear from listening to the voices that don't sing YOUR song.

Come on over to my side where the water is a deep blue sea of laughter and life and love and other stuff that starts with the letter "L".

Lindsay.

Marc's cousin. She just got married. For some reason, I feel a kindred heart pull with this girl. She is young and stylish and beautiful. I'm not anymore. But, when I saw this photo I smiled deep inside and grinned within.

Another cake shover!!!!!!

Just my kind of girl. Maybe she was told she should just delicately offer a nibble to her newly espoused.... She was probably given the advice to keep her feminine fingers poised and perfect while proffering the proverbial 'first bite'.

Something inside her said, "Shove". She shoved.

I love that.

Life is so fantastic! Nibbles are for wimps.

Take big raucous bites and breathe deep the frosting of life!

and

Don't be embarrassed to be yourself. EVER.

I have finally stopped trying to make myself something I am not. The original is always the most authentic and substantive. Perfunctory perfection performances eventually sink to the deep end anyway....trust me....you can't float forever.

I like the deep end. I'm glad to be back. With messy cake and icing and an enviable marriage full of laughter and love and all the messy stuff that makes life beautiful! My advice,....."If you hear that voice, LISTEN, and never stop!"

lost and FOUND

I'm not crazy about doing this. But, as I prayed this morning THIS story kept coming to mind. Its MY story. I tried to share part of it with some family this weekend and failed miserably to articulate what had happened. After 40 years, I think I can share parts of my story. Maybe.

Most people who meet me or talk to me think certain things. They assume my life has come straight from the "Wholesome and Healthy" family channel. Hey, I wish there was such a channel! I would order cable right now! Yet, I digress...

These 'outside the circle' folk are way off. W.A.Y.

I seem to have a 'sunny' disposition. Even when I was serving an LDS mission on the Navajo Indian Reservation the "Indian" name that was given to me was "Shandiin", which means 'sunshine'.

This means that I am often categorized as a product of healthy and loving relationships and environments. I have heard this many times, "You must have the most amazing parents to have turned out like you have"





Yeah, I'm sunny and unusually happy and do sort of exude stuff that is shiny.

But its not because I was raised that way.




My story is not your story. Or most people's story for that matter. Yep, I realize no one has a perfect history, and sure I understand everyone has damage and dysfunction to a certain level. I get it.

but....

This story is unique to me and for some insane reason I am going to blog about it from time to time. This blog is M.I.N.E., I created it, I write in it, I 'own' it, so I am going to....well....use it. Use it. Tell my story and hope it helps me. Helps you. Or just is. Is, is okay with me.



I had a moment this year that made me pull my car over and cry loud and heavy and with racked and raucous happiness. I was just driving down Hwy 18 and it hit me. My son had just turned 15. I was thinking about him and his life and if I was doing a good job raising him.

I realized something.

This precious child had never, not once, not even for a second of his life felt anything but stable, well cared for, loved, taught, guided, supported, lifted, praised, disciplined, adored, warm, well fed, accepted, and cherished.

Not one day of his life had ever felt like my growing up years did. Not ONE.

I realized with a stunning and spectacular understanding that I had done that. I had given him what was never given to me. I had broken the 'cycle'. I wanted to scream and cry and dance and fall apart all at once.

I was 14 when my family life was at its most hellish. MY son had NEVER experienced anything even in a shadow of such acrid rancor. EVER.

It felt divinely healing. Over,...somehow. Like holding your breath under water and finally surfacing and inhaling clean and real air desperately and deliciously.


a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhmdtiYb_OWKb3fKh8mEUdKF5ystFTNk6wIv1oXhH08TQHUQyOIoBk24RlW7GxQn-LZl_RmLQ8mswGsMlm2qzGaW2QpqIn8nQLqM6V1R2aw3TP99MACSpLcPaLIfPV4HWbAv4nchGI8E/s1600/1988+debi+17yrs.jpg">

Its so beautiful,....really. To be able to offer to someone else what was never offered to you. To find within who you are the very thing that is of deficit and create it out of nothing and then offer it outwards.

Beautiful.

I have done that. I am still doing that. Everyday.

Here is how.

I believed in something. I believe still. It changed my identity, my dark history, my value system, my perceptions, my world.

It healed me. I am whole. I am sublimely blessed and happy. I am the definition of grateful.



I'll fill in the details, I promise. But for now, this is a start. See that girl in those photos above? She has a story. She was lost and now is FOUND, and I'll tell you how and why soon.