Day One of the Awakening: A Recap

If you read the previous post you know that I am on a mission to change the way my family eats.  More than that, I am on a mission to change our view of food.  Here is the plan for how we are going to do that. 

First of all, I know from experience that grand, sweeping changes are likely to fail.  I’m not interested in that.  So we are going to start small and go from there. 

And I am treating myself differently from my boys.  My choices will be more drastic than theirs because they do not have 40+ years of damage in their bodies. 

I am starting with a food restriction cleanse.  What that means is that for the next 7 days I will eat no food.  No chewing of anything.  I will get plenty of high quality nutrients through the following:

Juice – Not the stuff you buy in the store – the stuff that comes from the juicer when you put fresh fruits and vegetables in it and turn it on.

Ningxia Red – This powerhouse infusion drink will also help to supply massive amounts of nutritional value to my system.  This one is non-negotiable.  It is delicious and incredibly beneficial to every cell in my body and I will not remove it from my diet.  Ever.

Pure Protein Complete – This is a shake mix from Young Living that is delicious and also loaded with goodness.  I will mix it with either water or almond milk.

Water – Some serious cleansing is going to happen with food restriction so I will stay hydrated in order to help flush out all that bad.

Again, I will eat no FOOD for the first 7 days.  Following the initial cleansing I will add in plant foods.

NO SODA – This is a biggie for me.  Even when I cut down on Diet Dr. Pepper I still drink one a day.  So this will be the hardest part for me. 

No Coffee – Easy, peasy.  I rarely drink coffee anyway.

The thing I was most concerned about going in was hunger and crankiness.  And headaches; as a migraine sufferer I was concerned about headaches.  I am at the end of Day One and I have been able to combat all three with essential oils.  I am using Joy, Frankincense, and Peppermint to help keep my mood even.  I am using citrus oils like lemon, lime, and grapefruit to flavor my juices with citrus without adding the acidity of the actual fruit’s juices.  I am using Digize, Peppermint and Lemon in a capsule to support my digestive system.  And I am using Lavender, Peppermint, and Frankincense to support my desire to be headache-free.

There were times throughout the day when I felt very sleepy and lethargic.  There were times when I was hungry.  And there were times when I was cranky.  But overall Day One wasn’t difficult and nothing that happened or that I felt today leaves me feeling like I am on the wrong path.  In fact I can already see how this cleanse is going to be a great benefit.  I also think that because my body needed a food restriction in order to have time to cleanse it is reacting properly overall.  And I am being mindful to support my physical systems as well as my mental and emotional needs with essential oils, which I know to work effectively.

Another test will be later when I go to bed.  I am hoping for sound sleep so that my body and my digestive system in particular will have the time it needs to really work on cleaning out the evidence of my past diet choices. 

Today’s intake included 3 green juices with lemon essential oil, 2 ounces of Ningxia Red, and 1 Pure Protein Complete shake made with almond milk.  I also drank 2.5 liters of water.  And no soda! 

The boys each added one freshly juiced apple juice to their day.  And actually they used it as a replacement for breakfast.  One 8 oz serving of fresh apple juice kept them full longer than even I expected.  They all agree that it is far better tasting than what we usually call apple juice.  They are not entirely sold on the idea of green juices yet but we will get there. 

Tomorrow I am going to journal how I feel as the day goes on. 

Until then.  Have a great night!

An Awakening: Food as Fuel.....The Beginning

It started simple enough: get rid of cable.  The reasons were sound: We didn’t frequently watch television; it was more often background noise than intentional entertainment, it costs way too much for the quality of programming, and it costs too much for a single mom raising four boys.  So I called the cable company and had them remove cable from my cable/phone/internet bundle.  Saved myself $65.00 per month.  Fast forward past the anger I felt at having spent an extra $65.00 per month on crappy cable.  I’m mostly over that now and just thankful that I get to keep that extra money in my pocket next month.

Then a funny thing happened.  I wanted to watch TV.  I just wanted to chill out on the couch while the boys were gone and just watch some TV.  No cable.  Hmmmmm. 

No worries.  Netflix to the rescue.   I loaded up Netflix and watched a documentary called “Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead”.  That is when things started happening in my brain.  Things I was not expecting.  See, I have been dipping my toes in the healthier lifestyle waters for several months now.  I got started using Young Living essential oils.  I am systematically replacing all of the toxic cleaners, soaps, toothpaste, face creams, shampoo, etc. in our home with non-toxic solutions.  I feel pretty darn good and the sick day that my oldest son had in early February – before I started using essential oils – was the final sick day of the school year.  None of my four boys missed school due to illness for the remainder of February, or all of March, April or May.  We do not take prescription or over-the-counter medications anymore.  Ever.   We are building a healthier lifestyle one small change at a time.

BUT, in the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you that while all that was happening we were still eating mostly the same way we had been: microwaveable crap, put it in a bowl and pour some milk over it crap, shockingly orange cheese mix in a box of noodles crap.  You get the idea.  I will even admit to eating cheese flavored crackers straight out of the box for dinner on more than one occasion.

So, small changes were happening.  And they were all important.  Toxins in the form of chemical cleaners for our home and body were being phased out and toxins in the form of medications were gone.  But as I Netflixed that day, I realized that there is so much more toxicity in our lives that I had failed to consciously recognize; I was awakened to what I already knew to be true but had been hiding from myself.  Processed and convenient food are turning us into addicts (sugar), increasing our risks for every single disease known to man (especially the ones I call man-made diseases; you know, those conditions that didn’t even exist in our parents’ generation), influencing our behavior choices on a regular basis, and making us overall feel just good enough to make it grudgingly through each day.  Small changes were helping, definitely; but I wasn’t addressing our entire lifestyle, just the parts that were convenient.

I don’t want that.  I don’t want it for myself and I certainly don’t want it for my children.  And I don’t want it for you either.  So over the next several days I continued to watch various documentaries with the consistent theme being food, the food industry, and what is happening in our cultures to food and what food once meant to people.  I armed myself with knowledge.  I got online and did some research.  If you have ever researched anything online you know that there are multiple views on every facet of every subject and it can be difficult to find truth in much of what is published.  So I used my own intellect, my own experiences, and my own gut feelings as a compass while sorting through all of this contradictory information. 

What I came up with in the end is this:  I am the mother of four children.  I want to see them graduate college, get married, have babies, be successful in life.  I want to be there to help them put the pieces back together when it all falls apart.  Because it will - It does for everyone.  I want to live and be all of the things that I should be as their mom.  And at this moment, their health is almost entirely dependent on me.  If I buy the donuts at the grocery store, they will eat them.  If I buy apples and carrots at the grocery store, they will eat those.  I am the adult.  I am responsible.  And it is about time I started taking the responsibility seriously.  I can’t look myself in the mirror and rationalize cereal for dinner because I felt tired that day anymore.  I can’t use the balm of a busy day to make me feel better about “cooking” dinner for my family by boiling some noodles and dropping death-by-chemical-orange cheese on them and serving it up hot.  I just can’t.

So it is time to be intentional about food.  It is time to respect it for what it is: necessary fuel to keep our bodies running optimally.  It is time to quit pretending it is some sort of emotional salve for the busy days, the sad times, the laziness, and the empty feelings that we all have some days.  It is time to be real and to put real food in this house for my real family.

So, things are changing.  I am taking information I have learned from multiple sources, including my own common sense and experiences with what works, and shifting the food paradigm around here.  This program I’m piecing together doesn’t yet have a name.  But it does have a purpose: clean out our systems, our pantry, our refrigerator, and most importantly our thinking; and replace it all with knowledge, positive changes in behavior, and good, real fuel. 

This is not a box set that someone created in a lab, put in a pretty box and sold to me to “change my life for only $5 a day!”  No, this is me and my family using what God gave us to live the way God intended: healthy and abundant.  Our bodies are an intelligent, self-healing design and only our own personal choices can cause their breakdown. 

I will be recording the process in two places: here on my blog and in a Facebook group, which can be found here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/655371001286024/

Or you can search An Awakening: Food as Fuel on Facebook and join the group to see all the posts, trials, errors, and progress of this journey.  Perhaps we can even start a dialogue there and trade ideas and stories. 

Care to go on a journey with the boys and me and see what we can accomplish? 

This will be fun! 

Second Verse, Not the Same as the First

It has been a long, long time since I wrote anything for this blog.  I said at the beginning that I was not sure what the point of the blog really was, but that it was important to me; it was a way to work through thoughts and emotions that I was experiencing.  I have always thought best on paper and right now, I feel like I need to think. A lot. 

It may not be the smartest move to write tonight – the night before I have to get up early and return to work after a long and glorious Christmas break.  It may not be the smartest move, but I am sure there is a purpose.  I am sure there are yet undiscovered nuggets of wisdom deep in my brain that are crying to get my attention and to get out – I have discovered quite a bit about myself through my “Ready, Fire, Aim” method of writing.  As I was wasting my precious final hours of break looking at all the memes on the internet humorously showing how hesitant teachers are to return to work tomorrow, it hit me: I need to write. 

Do I feel this way because I am pumped and ready to get up, shed my pajamas-for-two-weeks-uniform, shower before 9 am, apply makeup, make the drive to school, and listen attentively to whatever Professional Development is on the agenda for tomorrow?  Nope.  Seriously, who wants to wear real clothes (even if only jeans are required tomorrow) when the recent standard has been so much cozier and made of soft fleece?   Do I want to give up the freedom to, on a whim, clean out the pantry, repaint it, and organize it until it is beautiful and efficiently stocked?  Do I want to give up the ability to repaint my youngest son’s room in the most amazing shade of gray?  Do I want to donate hours to something other than cleaning my long-ignored house, or to cooking all of those things that I never have the energy to cook during the semester, or to heading outside to the front yard just to be schooled in both basketball and football by some amazing boys who obviously got their athletic skills from somewhere other than their mother?  Nope.

But, Yes.  Yes I want to return to work tomorrow.  I want even more to return to work on Tuesday because that is the day the students return.  That is the day I get to see the other 20 kids that I love so much.  That is the day I will be reminded, in the flesh, of the reasons why I am a teacher.  Don’t get me wrong – I will definitely be asking “Is it Friday yet?” by Wednesday morning, but when that question comes from my mouth, it will be with new purpose.  For me, for this second semester of my teaching career, it is my goal that I will be asking that question not because I am wishing away the school week in hopes of a relaxing weekend or because I am so overwhelmed that I am not sure I can make it another day.  No, for me, right now, it is my goal that the question will come because I will have poured so much love and energy and work into Tuesday that I will feel as though it should be the weekend.  That I gave so much to the hours I have on campus that it feels like it should be Friday.  That I gave everything I have to my students, my team, my school, and my family at home.  That I will want a weekend, not for the “break”, but for the necessity of recharging to do it all again; only better.

The last five months have been the absolute hardest of my professional life.  I knew the first year of teaching would be hard.  I have learned that you can know a thing and really know nothing.  Not until you have lived it.  Not until you have been busted crying on the back porch by your son after an especially difficult day.  Not until your dreams have been overtaken by visions of the faces you see every school day, and even in your dreams you worry about them.  Not until you have felt what it is to feel like a total failure.  Not until your incessant fears take over that you are not being good enough, not being effective enough, not being teacher-y enough. Not until you feel in your heart and mind, and even deep in your soul, that you are failing twenty kids; that you are not doing what they need, that you are not prepared: That. You. Are. Not. Enough.

That is when you know the thing you thought you knew.  And the knowing is hard.  And it hurts.  And it takes your legs right out from under you. 

And that is where I found myself: at the end of the first semester, with my legs taken out, army-crawling across the Last-Week-Before-Break-Finish-Line, crippled by self-doubt, exhausted and frustrated, walking out the school door, eager for the break from that which I had once only thought I knew. 

And today I find myself here: My legs may have been taken right out from under me, my feelings of inadequacy may not have subsided, my worry about being “enough” still with me.  But the thing is this: When you take the legs out from under me, you put me on my knees, which is right where I needed to be all along.  I was so scared, worried, and overwhelmed that I forgot.  I forgot that I am not alone in this.  I am a first year teacher because He saw to it.  Because He took me down this path because this is what He wanted for me.  This is where my gifts can be used.  This is where I can be all that I am supposed to be.  This is where I can not only teach, but learn.  This is where I have been brought – for a reason.  Nothing is wasted. 

So on this evening before I return to work after break, I am reminded that there is more work to be done; that I am not finished with this school year or with these 20 precious lives; that I am not alone.  I am never alone.  And the only thing He can’t do is Fail.  He is with me, and my students, and my team, and my school, and my family.  At all times.  With Him, I will not fail. 

You can know a thing and really know nothing.  Or you can just trust that the One who already knows the things will show you everything you need if only you remember to stop, ask, and pay attention to what He’s saying. 

I’ve had a great Christmas break.  I am recharged and ready to go.

And I am still on my knees; right where I am supposed to be.

It Was Just a Batch of Muffins....So Why do I Feel So Happy?

I just caught myself sitting here, at the end of the weekend, wondering where the time went. Four o’clock on Friday afternoon seems like it was just minutes ago.  But yet an entire weekend has come and gone again.  And there are things left on the weekend to-do list that never got a second glance after I wrote them down.

And in my wondering where the time went I began to place blame.  I began to blame the choices that I made with my time on my now almost completely unchecked list.  And it was immediately after this particular thought – “Why did I decide to spend all that time in the kitchen baking muffins this afternoon when I could have been ironing, cleaning, or studying?” – that a far more important thought occurred to me.  

And that thought is this: Why am I beating myself up for accepting the blessings that have so abundantly been given to me?

Here’s what I mean.  And here is where my thoughts have shifted to at the end of a weekend that was wonderful and full of blessings.

I spent time baking muffins for my family because:

I have been blessed with a wonderful family full of healthy tummies that love and appreciate muffins.

I have been blessed with the vision to see the ingredients, the hands to carry out the instructions, the knowledge to understand measurements, and the ability to read the recipe.

I have been blessed with a vehicle in the driveway with gas in the tank so I can drive to the grocery store.  

I have been blessed with a job that puts money in my bank account so I am able to buy ingredients.

I have been blessed to live in a home with a working oven, refrigerator, sink, and dishwasher so that I can bake a recipe.

I have been blessed with the freedom to use my time however I choose.

I have been blessed with a heart and mind that reminds me that when I feel anxious about where the time has gone, I can rest assured that no time tending to the ones I love the most is ever wasted.  And if that means that I did not iron that gigantic stack of wrinkled clothes today, it’s no big deal.  Because while that stack will continue to grow as I make different choices with my time, it will never be as large as the love I have for my boys.  

I spent time baking muffins for my family because I have been abundantly blessed.  And for that I am abundantly grateful.  

I am a Re-Conditioning Battery

About twenty years ago I worked for a cellular company.  Technology was different then and there was a service that we provided on a fairly regular basis: re-conditioning rechargeable batteries.  Some batteries would lose their life long before the device had lost its usefulness so the customer would bring in their battery and the tech would attach it to a device that would re-condition it, improving the life of that battery.  It was basically a continual loop of completely depleting the device, completely charging it, and then starting the process all over again.  It was through this endless, consecutive charge-and-deplete cycle that the battery would basically reclaim most of its original storage capacity.   

Now, if you were to remove a battery partially through the re-conditioning process you would probably see longer battery life, but not see the full potential of that battery.  You would perhaps get 50 percent better than you had before, but by removing it early you would fail to reach 100 percent.  I think about the process of re-conditioning batteries and I cannot help but draw parallels to myself.  

I am a battery in the process of being re-conditioned. 

I am in constant search for the full charge before depletion starts all over again.  I am always looking for things, people, activities, time, anything to allow me a full charge before things, people, activities, time, everything starts depleting my already taxed stores of power. It would seem, at times, that there is no such thing as a full charge.  And even when I think I have accomplished a full recharging, it proves to be only one of a countless partial charges in the process of re-conditioning.  

And the depletion process happens so much more quickly than the charging process.  Even situations that I enter with the thought that they will be rejuvenating, refreshing experiences often turn into just the opposite.

One-sided relationships, poorly attempted and thinly veiled threats, questions asked repeatedly when the answer has already been stated repeatedly, behavior choices of children, behavior choices of adults, and often even my own choices: these are just some of the small things that keep me in the perpetual cycle of re-conditioning.  

Please don’t get me wrong here: I am not complaining.  

Even though there are moments when I feel like I cannot take one more single second of depletion, I find that I actually can.  Even though there are moments when I want to bury my head in the sand, ignore all responsibilities and just rest, I soldier on with slight alterations.  I ignore the laundry for an extra day and instead cuddle up with my boys on the couch.  I skip cooking dinner and offer up ice cream instead because the effort is minimal and the happiness is enormous.  I make a budget that I vowed to stick to and then fail to stick to it because someone needs new shoes, or pants, or lunch, or a haircut, or any number of things that pop up when you are mom to four.

I allow the cycle of depletion and charging to continue for one reason: I am rechargeable.  I was created by a Father who gave me purpose.  I was created by a Father who could have allowed me to be disposable but instead gave me the option to become new again.  I was created by a Father who wants me to deplete all of my love and energy to do my part in making this world a better place.  I was created by a Father who gave more than I can even imagine, His son, ensuring that I would have abundant and beautiful life, followed by an abundant and perfect eternity.   

So, on days like today, when I feel bone-exhausted immediately following the weekend, 
when I feel like a failure for failing to post a blog for two weeks following a promise to write more, when I feel like I can actually hear my pillows whimpering my name, calling me to their fluffy comfort before 7 pm; on days like today I check myself and remember.

I remember that I have purpose.  I remember that I am rechargeable, not disposable.  I remember that I am held in the strong and powerful hands of a Father who loves me and will not let me deplete completely.  There will always be more that requires my energy, and the longer I allow the cycle of re-conditioning to continue I can only gain more power.  I can only fulfill greater pieces of my purpose.  I can only do more of that which I was created to do.  

Oh, trust me.  I am not complaining about that at all.       

A New School Year Brings a New Opportunity for Gratitude

I feel it is necessary to start this blog post by addressing my lack of writing over the summer.  I find it difficult to find my creativity during the summer: I become uninspired when the heat outside is oppressive, I experience a serious dip in productivity, and to be honest, I become a fairly grumpy person.  (Yes, I am working on that – I know grumpy is not a good look).  It is still hot outside and shows no signs of letting up anytime soon, but I have gone back to work and that has given me the spark I needed to get back to the craft of blog writing. 

And my work is where I want to start.  I work in an elementary school.  And over the past few weeks as we have prepared for students and conquered our first week of school being in session, I have been overwhelmed by the number of things that have popped into my head as ideas for blog posts.  But I want to start with my favorite subject: gratitude.

I have been bombarded in the last few weeks with moments that have brought gratitude bubbling to the surface in my heart.  There are the easy ones: that I have a job, that I work with an amazing group of people, or that I get to be close to my own children throughout the day.  But there are some moments in an elementary school that come at me subtly, quietly, and without any fanfare.  They happen organically and quickly; and they can easily pass me by without an understanding of their power in the moment. 

These are the moments that I reflect on at the end of the day.  These are the moments that I remember when I realize that while I am exhausted, I am not empty.  These are the moments that keep me filled up and ready to pour out all the love and energy that somehow is being replenished without notice. 

It is the second grader who stops every time he sees me to give me a hug.  It is the third grader who replies to my queries with “school is awesome”.  It is the co-workers who smile at 7:15 every morning even though it has been crazy hectic at their house since 4 am.  It is all the kindergarten students who are so excited about learning activities that it shows on their tiny cherub faces.  It is first graders who look so big since the last time I saw them in May.  It is fourth graders who are coming into their own, really stretching their personalities, embracing their last year of elementary school.  It is moms and dads who wear a look of trust and peace on their faces because they know that leaving their children at our school will not only bring to their babies an education from books, but also life skills and love; so much love.  It is the electric atmosphere that occurs when so many talented educators come together to help create a brighter future for hundreds of growing minds. 

It is every single moment that fills my days for which I am grateful.  Because, truth be told, I get so much more from my job than I could ever give to it.  And that fact is not lost on me.  I am filled with gratitude for all those moments and for all the people, grown and growing, that I get to spend my days with.   

It is my intention that my gratitude will be evident in all that I do, for this school year and beyond.  It is my intention that I pay attention to how blessed I am to be where I am and that recognition of my personal blessings will spill over so that I may be a blessing to others.  So, for my first blog post back from hiatus, I really only have one thing to say; and that is THANK YOU!   

Alec Calls it Camp: I Call it a Learning Experience....For Mom

A couple of days ago it was Family Day at the camp that Alec is currently attending.  Before I tell you about Family Day, let me tell you about how the schedule is set up at this camp.  The campers arrive on a Sunday.  The following Saturday is Family Day and then the campers have two more weeks of camp, sans family visits.  All alone with people they have just met.  At least for the new campers, the ten year olds, they are people they have just met. 

When I dropped my oldest child, my first-born son, off at camp it went something like this: he went with his cabin coach to unpack and change clothes while the boys and I waited, he returned in his camp uniform, bouncing across the campground like a spring that has been waiting for an eternity to finally be sprung, he hugged me, looked up and said “bye”.   Um, that’s it?  Seriously? 

This momma had a hard time with this one.  Much like on his first day of kindergarten when he looked over at me, my face full of worried anticipation of the separation tantrum that was to occur in three….two…one……and then this – “Are you still here?”  Yep, I expected that my child, my first-born, who had never even been in daycare, would exhibit at least a small amount of trepidation about his first-ever school day.  I was wrong.  It was foreshadowing: a glimpse into how it would go down when I dropped him off at camp five years later. 

I am not sure why I build these things up in my mind to be so much more than they are ever going to be.  I don’t know why in these particular moments, when I have to release my child, my first-born, to the care of others, I expect that he will rebel or fight to stay with his mommy, or at least freaking whimper.  But he does not.  He goes into new experiences unafraid and without a fight.  He is not an alpha male by any means, but he is not afraid to give things a try either. 

Fast forward to Family Day.  When Alec turned to see me and his brothers standing on the campground, he was instantly in my arms, tears flowing.  His words told me that he was happy to see me; but his eyes betrayed the truth: he wanted to come home; he’d had enough of this camp business and was ready to return to the familiarity of family and long days of arguing with his brothers.  He wanted his mom and he wanted his house and his bed and he wanted his normal routine.  He wanted so much to be back in College Station, back in the familiar reality that requires no courage, where excitement does not wane at the end of the day when there is nothing left to do, where he belongs.

Alec and I made a commitment to this camp: it is an invitation-only camp and by accepting his invitation, Alec took a spot at camp that could have been taken by another boy.  We, together, discussed this many times in the weeks preceding camp, and we, together, decided to make a commitment.  At that moment I know that he wanted more than anything in the world to break his commitment.  He just wanted home.  But that is not how we do things.  That is not who I am raising my son to be. 

I never entertained the idea of letting him come home with me that day and I am so glad that I didn’t.  During my time at Family Day I spoke to the wonderful lady who, along with her husband, runs the camp.  She knew that Alec was feeling homesick and that he had been for several days.  But she made it clear to me that his homesickness was only in his down time.  She made it clear to me that during every other moment of every day, whether he felt sad or not, he put his head down and did what he was supposed to do; he did what the coaches asked, he participated fully in every activity, he was a committed camper.  He was exactly who I am raising my son to be.

It was hard to say goodbye to him when we left the camp that day.  But it was not hard to enjoy the pride I felt in my son and the way that he is showing his character every single day at that camp.  The way he is charging ahead, doing what he committed to do and enjoying it even though he sometimes feels overwhelming homesickness, the way he is handling himself in a difficult situation makes me proud.  And hopefully it makes him proud too.  Hopefully this is an experience that will teach him that even when you temporarily don’t like it anymore, even when it is so much easier to pack up and go home, even when giving up seems like a viable option because your mom is standing there and she could give you a ride home; it is still possible to see things through to the end and to fully honor your commitments. 

That night I got a call from the man who runs that camp with his wife.  He called to let me know that though it was hard for Alec to see us drive away, and there were some tears, Alec had stepped up to the plate, dried his eyes and fully re-engaged in the camp activities, and that he was happy and doing amazing.  He called to thank me for sharing my son with him and his camp; for allowing them the time to get to know Alec and to see what a great kid he is.  He called to commend Alec and to thank me for not pulling him out of camp, for choosing instead to honor our commitment.

The thing is this: my boys never cease to amaze me.  Just when I thought I have Alec all figured out and I know exactly what to expect from him, he pulls a fast one on me.  He exhibits independence that leaves me in awe; he feels sadness so deep that it brings him to tears and then he turns right around and shows what he is truly made of.   My Alec, my child, my first-born; what an amazing young man he is turning out to be.