Elliptical-Machine, Elliptical-Machine, How Love-ly is your Mo-tion

Now, if I could just keep my godforsaken rhythm while I use the elliptical trainer, even heaven would be overjoyed.

Congratulations, me! I've graduated from the bowels of treadmill walking to doing some high stepping on the round-and-round pedaling machine. This means my knee can handle so much more than it could at the beginning of this year.

The work on the elliptical is going to be slow, but as assuredly as I have conquered speeds on the treadmill, I will one day claim victory with this exercise tool as well. It's just...that waiting part. You know? I'm terrible at having patience with some things.

Still 40 pounds (plus a little) down from top weight. Strength is a fun feeling. Want to know what doesn't feel fun at all? Massive abdominal spasms. That's right. You read it. I have to tell you what happened because it was the funniest thing...though not while it was happening.

I (stupidly) asked Barb to give me more abdominal work that I can do on Mondays, which are my non-Barb days at the gym. She readily agreed and after shooing me off the elliptical today, she told me to hunker down onto my butt, set my hands behind me, bend my knees and draw my legs up and in. Then I did another ab-focused exercise. Then another. Then another. And then I went to stand up!

My lower abdominals SEIZED. They SEIZED, I tell you! You don't even want to know the pain. So, I sat down and bent forward to stop the cramping up. The tension subsided there, but then my upper adbominals started contracting and freaking out. So, I had to stand up to get those to relax out of the contractions. But then my lower abdominals went right back into seizure 'cause I was upright. So, I sat down bent forward trying to make it stop. And so my upper abdominals cinched up.

Finally, I stood up and half-bent forward and STOOD there for a good, solid five minutes, talking to Barb, waiting for both sets of muscles to chill out.

That's what you get for letting your abs go. JUST LETTING YOU KNOW!

Selfish, Maybe

My house is full of crap. All of the upstairs is extra packed with stuff that has either come from the basement or accumulated because nobody cares and we are living like hoarders with little paths to our doors and not much else. I'm confined, hating it, cannot WAIT for the downstairs to be painted, get shelving, and to get shit done putting things back and sorting what's to give away and stuff.

I've got Thursday and Friday off and the basement is scheduled to be ready for all that redistribution I've been looking forward to for ALMOST A YEAR. Finally, there will be room to move, space to run around, breathe, smile, relax and enjoy my home. I can have people over again! I have Thursday and Friday to help organize where everything is going and has got to be - I'm the wife and the mom, it's what I do. I do that.

But, wait! I am also the daughter... I am technically the only child in a house that once had four and, by default, I am responsible for the care of my mother when everyone else is busy and/or is tired of doing it. I get it, and I am ok with loving my mother and being there for her. I'm a little upset that I have to be right NOW, with basement getting readiedness and two whole days to stay home and sort and organize things....two days to make my house the way I want it.

We were even going to skip Thanksgiving and just band together to get it done.

But, mom. And my uncles are maxed out taking care of her and their own needs. Her hired help is beginning to suck a whole lot and has a shitty attitude...and nobody seems to know whose job what is anymore. There needs to be someone to go there, sort people out, manage the care, stop the bickering and tell the grown-ass people who live off of her to get over themselves and contribute to making her house a positive environment or GTFO.

Guess who's job that is?

I can do it from here, but I can do it from there.

And if I go there, I have to neglect here. Sure, here can be done when I get back, but I won't have another two days off for it...in months. MONTHS. because I work 7 days a week. And don't think for a moment if I go up to my mom's I'll get a lot accomplished. There are too many control freaks in the equation and I am not her proxy.

I'm going to call her proxy, my cousin, tonight once I hear how mom's doc visit goes, and then I have to decide whether I have to skip this couple of days I've looked forward to for a year...or if I'll sort my house and go to Mannheim Steamroller after all.

I selfishly want to stay home.

I love my mother, though, more than I love my days off and Mannheim Steamroller...so I will be there if she needs me and that's the bottom line.

Down another 3 pounds, btw.

Life Sucks when your Mom is an Invalid..

...or nearly is. In the past two weeks I've gotten texts, emails and private messages warning me that my mom is very unhealthy and is not doing anything to help herself. I don't know if she has the energy, battling sickness, that she needs to help herself or if her will is broken. I am in the should I stay or should I go debate, with everyone telling me they will let me know if I should go up there. How do I stay put? I'm embarrassed for my mom. She's grown to a very huge size and, I'm told, hardly gets out of bed now.

She calls and talks to me like it's just another average day of going to the restroom and having popsicles because she's feeling dried out. She can hardly walk on her own but recently texted me to say she went without a walker, all by herself, from one place to another - progress!

It's hard to tell if there is progress or if she's really fighting a losing battle. Is she trying too little too late? Is she physically unABLE to help herself anymore? She won't go to a hospital nor will she accept that she needs REAL TRUE managed care and assistance. She has friends and family and people who are in her house to help, but they love her and they'll do for her what medical caretakers would not.

I called my mom recently and cried, simply cried, because I don't want her to die, especially like this: broken, alone, depressed, enormous, blistered, bored, lonely and immersed in what many of us would call personal hell. I cried and I told her I didn't want to lose her. I told her I didn't want her to die and I still need her and love her.

She said she's not going to die and she's tried to make me feel better..but I feel so hollow. I feel very, very hollow and afraid.

Here's what I just old my BFE...

"I left for work without a heck of a lot of food in me/planned out so after the gym I was hungry like a monster and I ordered a 12" sub sandwich thinking I WILL DEMOLISH IT. Well. I had some self argument over getting a 6" that obviously did not win out (cause I told myself I'd just eat half and if hungry later go NOMNOMNOM.) Lies! I ate the entire thing and then I couldn't even function and I fell asleep and just woke up and I'm still full and my stomach is sour feeling. Not good!"

I haven't been food shopping in a week and we are out of  fresh stuff - makes it hard to snack and fill up on things not junk food, right? So, I am going on a forced shopping trip this evening so that I don't do that to myself again tomorrow. This is important to note because I do not like to go grocery shopping, but I don't like to feel gross and terrible MORE than I do not like to go grocery shopping. That's the Math, Jack.