...and Another!

Another pound gone overnight! One more and I'll really be back from vacation. I'm very, very happy! And I've eaten very well. That 1500 calorie fence is good for me so I don't go on grazing in the pasture as the day wears on. I've still made a point to include all food groups, but I haven't beaten myself up for lovin' fresh seasonal fruit...I know I've had more than "3". I've been really obsessive about the numbers. Last night I had "23" calories left over at bedtime, wasn't really squirrely for food, but they were there, so I weighed an ounce and a half of pineapple out, I think it was; it rang up at 21 calories, so that pleased me. I've really, honestly, weighed EVERYthing...lettuce...tomato...onions...peppers. I made shish-kabobs for supper, un-shished everything onto a paper plate, put my dinner plate on the dandy digital scale at 0, and weighed each thing, reset to 0, weighed the next thing, wrote it down as I plated it and figured out the calories while I ate, which also served to make me slow down and really chew and enjoy the food more. I also made beer bread in the awesomely cool pottery bread baker I bought in Gatlinburg. 3c self-rising flour, 3 T sugar, and a 12oz beer, bake 40 minutes at 375. Husband reminded me that the beer calories shouldn't factor in since the calories come from alcohol and the alcohol cooks out...made sense to me so I bought it hook, line, and sinker, be it true or not. Then I weighed the baked loaf, almost 2 lbs, and calculated the calories per oz, sliced what I wanted, weighed it, did the calories per oz. Did all that and still had hot bread...with 1/2 T honey! :) A 4 oz slice this morning made an amazing french toast breakfast, dipped in 1 egg mixed with 1/2c whites, which still made more goo than was needed for my slice and husband's. 2 turkey sausage links, and a 4oz wedge of cantaloupe, and a T of syrup chimed in at 429. Higher than my usual breakfast by maybe 75 calories, but not past my 500 mental guideline note. The bread really throws a punch to the calorie bank, but it's so worth it just to know absofreakin-lutely NOTHING is off limits.

On a some what different note...my anxiety dreams have started. It happens every year, and usually right about the time the calendar flips to August. I work with some of the most difficult kids in the school. "Difficult" being pale in regards to what one might find in a big city, but difficult nonetheless within the framework of our small town. I always dread going back to work. There was a time we actually got a whole 3 months off for the summer, but we got shorted a month this year. Summer is the only time I get to draw anymore, and that makes me sad. And really, the job and the kids...they're not BAD. The dread comes from my own selfishness. I want the attention I used to get from my artwork. I could be fat; I could be skinny. It didn't matter. The focus was on the artwork. But as a teacher, I have to physically stand in front of a classroom, or actually walk through a hallway filled with the possibility of thoughtless, hurtful comments from the mouths of children at an historically cruel age. And I'm defenseless. To back up a bit, this will be my 10th year in the school system. Doesn't seem possible, but here I am. Ten years ago, I was a stay-at-home mom and artist one day, and the next I was an unemployed single mom. A lot has happened, but in those 10 years, not once has a child ever been unkind or disrespectful to me in regards to my weight...until last year. A student made such a spectacle in the hallway, dragging another student with her to stand at the doorway of my classroom between bells, point at me, and make horrible commentary to her friend about my weight. Fortunately, my room was empty, and kudos to the student she dragged along with her who seemed disgusted that she'd been wrangled into the scene. Other kids in the hall paid her no mind, but it hurt. It hurt me so deeply. I almost had to close up shop that day and come home, but I was too embarrassed to relay what happened to my boss. It was weeks before I confided in anyone, and then I was told I should have reported the student, that my boss would have defended me and not allow any student to disrespect one of his teachers. I know that to be true, but at the same time, if that student were to be called to the office, embarrassed to be confronted in the first place, she would see to it the story radiated throughout the school among her peers. As it was, it was isolated and contained. She didn't get the response she wanted, so it died then and there, only I'm left holding the smoldering embers. So my biggest fear that I had harbored all those years became my reality, and still, for all the positive things that have happened over the years, that negative thing carries so much more, well, weight. This wasn't even a student I would ever have in class, and that's the sad thing. She doesn't even KNOW me! Kids who have had me, LOVE me. They go off to high school and bombard their 9th grade teacher with stories from my class...good stuff. I mean, my room is a safe haven for these kids, and it was for me until that day. Kids come back year after year, long after they've left middle school, to say "hi", get a hug, or just walk in my room again. They come tell me when they get their license, who they're going to Homecoming and prom with, they come tell me when their mom is diagnosed with cancer, or worse yet, when a parent dies or leaves. I was someone safe in their lives with whom they could confide, good or bad. Good memories, and they learned some Math along the way too. My kids respect me within my classroom because I respect them, and it's required from day one. My standards and expectations are very high. No potty mouth. But this kid didn't know that, obviously hadn't learned it at home, and in that instant, she scarred me for life. I'll never forget that day. And I still have another year of her in my school. In my anxiety dreams, I have so much anger and rage. One night I dreamed I dropped the F* bomb in class. And the thing is, it's all in my head. This is a "thing" I've created. The one kid fueled it and maybe even lit the final match, but it's not as bad, ever, as what scenarios play out in my head. I'm probably MOST comfortable IN my classroom. It's a comfortable place. With my husband's help in hooking up all my technology stuff and running cords and purchasing needed extensions, etc, my room will be more fine tuned, productive, and efficient than ever before, both for me and the kids. Organization has never been an issue, and my room is colorful, yet peaceful. Last year I made valances for he windows and added houseplants. I keep it really, really CLEAN. I'd like an aquarium, but I fear the temptation to squirt hand sanitizer in the tank would be too great for some kids. I might get a beta to keep in a vase with a peace lily plant. Anyway, the one time this summer I had to go by the school for something, I walked into my room, honestly having forgotten the new arrangement I left everything in, and immediately the weight of the world fell from my shoulders at seeing the place. So obviously there is chaos in my person right now. In 2 weeks I'll be in the week of workdays. In 3 weeks the kids will be back. I'll be ok, I always am, but this time frame leading into those days is very tumultuous and dances on my every insecurity, and something I would always react to with food. So far, so good, but everyday I expect the ice to break beneath my feet. I wish I had more weight loss under my belt before returning. As my Mom would so often say (I'll paraphrase) "wish in one hand and poop in the other and see which gets full first". Not for the one hateful kid specifically, but as my own armour against all the evils, real or imagined, is why I had hoped. I had hoped to lose 30 pounds this summer in addition to the 20 I had lost since Christmas. No one at work had noticed the 20. There might be mention once in a while, "have you lost weight?" or "I can see it in your face", but these comments came from the same people who said the same thing when my weight was creeping UP. I can get a haircut, highlights, or new glasses, and they peg the change on MY WEIGHT...go figure. Surely they'd notice 50 for real. I realize some people won't ever, ever, ever mention it at all whether they notice it or not for fear any mention of weight at all could be construed as insensitive. But instead I've dog-paddled the summer away until everything came together 3 weeks ago. Today I'm at -20...again/still. I might make -30 before the kids come back. Perhaps -50 before the holidays the way I'm currently living. I know I'm doing the right thing, perhaps confusing the right reason for doing it with too many that shouldn't matter. There. I wrote it down. It's out of me. A deep breath so I can move past it. *sigh*