Scale-A-Week: 5 July 2010 by puuikibeach

Weigh In Day – Metabolic Age: 32

Improvement from last week: 13 years

Clearly, something went wrong. After I weighted in for the first time, my husband explained to me that I should have weighed in before I work out. From my Weight Watcher trained brain, this seems totally illogical. I did not think it would have made that big of difference. I hoped it would, but I started my diet last week anyway.

Yesterday, I marched right over to the special scale as soon as I changed into my workout clothes. Yes! My metabolic age is now 2 years younger than my real age. I also lost two pounds this week. Am I sceptical about the scales accuracy, TOTALLY. But since it gave me good news this week, why doubt it?

My first impulse was to go to Dairy Queen and celebrate with a Blizzard.

Then I realized -

1. Dairy Queen does not exist in The Netherlands.

2. I am already here at a gym and in my workout clothes, I should work out.

3. My daughter is at home with her father, i.e., FREEDOM, so I should enjoy it.

I headed off to yoga class with my yoga capris feeling ever so slightly looser.

Reality Check

My husband’s metabolic age is still 7 years younger than mine (although he is older than me). And I still have shorts and swimsuits haunting my near future. I need to stick with my current plan. It seems to be working. Or at least I need another few weeks of weigh-ins to get a better picture of reality.

Adjustments

  1. More Alcohol: I have stuck to the plan for the most part except for the alcohol drinking. I have cut back, but I am going to enjoy the weekend with some wine.
  2. More Planning: I did some very basic meal planning and grocery shopping last Sunday. For the most part, it really paid off. I forgot to defrost the fish fillets one night. It resulted in a last-minute run to the grocery store and created a meal the following day without a vegetable. It was a big improvement, though, from my hurried daily visit to the grocery store on an empty stomach while on my way home from work.

Image Credit by Puuikibeach

Day 2

It is the second day of my diet. Today is incrementally easier than yesterday. It could just be that I was really busy in the afternoon during my normal dip. I have this dull aching headache. What is that?

I struggle with not having a glass of wine after what was a particularly rough afternoon. A meeting did not go how I expected it and a night of interrupted sleep was catching up with me. I usually try to get by with lemon flavor sparkling water at dinner, but I was in no mood to fool myself. I went for an alcohol free malt beer instead. It really hit the spot. And it was only 50 calories!

E was up four times in the night. She is 19 months old. I thought we were past that. She seems to be having nightmares and getting hungry. I swear she has a growth spurt every few weeks. I love how cuddly she is in the middle of the night, but I would also love a full night’s sleep.

Yesterday evening, I tried to distract myself and sooth my headache with a long bath. Tonight, I am watching “The Voice” and going to bed hopefully at an embarrassingly early time.

Menu
I basically was not eating any fruits and only vegetables with dinner. I have upped my fruit intake to two servings during the day with mini all natural smoothies that I by pre-made. Yeah, they are a little expensive, but I am drinking them. The fresh fruit I usually buy just goes to waste. I did take two apples with me to work as well, but they are still sitting on my desk. I think I will need some peanut butter to choke those things down.

At lunch I have a salad piled high with toppings like cubed ham, corn, chick peas, and shredded carrots. Dinner the last two nights has been fish with rice or diced potatoes and a veg. Strangely, I do not really miss not eating bread. I miss the granola bars and salted popcorn. Well, it is only Day 2.

Exercise
We don’t have a car so my commute involves walking, taking a tram then train, then cycling (5 minutes) to/from the railway station and my office. I added to it today by not taking the tram from the train station to my house, but walking for 20 minutes instead. Every bit helps.

Here is a picture of our little insomniac from the park this weekend. Aren’t the trees beautiful? She is getting quick. She is not up to a full run yet. She looks more like a semi-pro speed walker – complete with the determined gaze, heaving breathing and constipated scowl. She is a lot of fun.

Image

I write this blog with a grumbling stomach and throbbing head. Yes, for the first time in years, I am putting myself on a diet. Why now?

Short Answer #1: My metabolic age is 45. 45! 

I just turned 34!

My husband’s metabolic age: 25. 25!

A few months ago, I joined my husband’s gym. In the past year and a half, my husband has lost about 20 pounds and is now in the best shape of his life. He is hooked. Now it is my turn. The worst part was that I have been working out 2-3 times per week for about six weeks before I did the metabolic age analysis. 

I am convinced that the metabolic analysis was wrong and I am going to redo it this Friday. In the meantime, I am cleaning up my act.

Short Answer #2: Swimsuit

In less than a month, we are going on vacation. I am looking forward to warm weather and playing in the pool. Swimsuit & shorts = jiggle, jiggle, rub, rub. Ladies, you know what I mean. I don’t expect miracles, but knowing I’ve dropped a few pounds, goes a long way with that bitchy little voice in my head.

 

Today = Day 1

Diet. Ugh! I hate that word, but that is what it feels like today. I feel like I am going through withdrawal.

What am I changing?

A quick Google overwhelms me with the latest cave man fasts and mega super foods. I have managed to avoid the latest diet fads. In America, they are virtually impossible to avoid. In The Netherlands, though, the major news outlets here are in Dutch and I spend most of my free time chasing after my little one, reading blogs about getting her to each vegetables, or ordering diapers for her from Amazon. This country is also literally the land of milk & bread.

1. Lunch: Salad instead of a sandwich

2. Fewer cappucinos

3. More fruit & nuts; less processed stuff

4. Flat belly breakfast – Nutty Quick bread

5. No alcohol & more water

I think that list is long enough. 

This new plan is also why I am getting back into blogging. It is keeping me pre-occupied. Sad, I know, but that is real. Wish me luck!

 

Photo: Fruit & Veg by AudreyH (flickr)

11 mos sucking thumb by morethanexpat

11 mos sucking thumb by morethanexpat

 

I have re-entered the rat race. I am working again…but I have decided to try only working four days a week. Ironically, it does not feel like only four days a week. It is about all I can handle now. Once again I wonder how those mothers do it that work full-time. I work Monday through Thursday and, by Thursday morning, I feel the toll the week has taken on me as every bone in my body aches to crawl back under the covers when I begrudgingly turn off the singing alarm and my feet hit the cold hardwood floor. Usually on Wednesday and Thursday nights, it is all I can do not to run home and pick up E from daycare. I ache to have her in my arms and see her face smiling with recognition.

It should have come as no surprise then when E started showing signs of separation anxiety this Thursday. And her searing, hot fears seem directed wholly at me. To see her face light up and the world around her stop as she knows it every time her father walks in the room, I thought for sure she would feel separation anxiety from Papa too, but it does not seem to be as much so. Part of me is deeply relieved that E misses me as much or more than I miss her. It is a selfish thing and I really should know better, but what can I say? Poor E just cannot wrap her mind around it all yet, though.

E crawls after me when I exit the room, starting to whimper reflexively until it quickly escalates into a howl complete with huge tears. Last night, it reared its ugly head too. I think she woke up five times. We’d wake to disconsolate screams of pain. When my husband or I would pick her up, she immediately stopped. To further frustrate us, E would seem to want to start to play. I would sway her and pat her back. Her head quickly thudded against my breastbone, her thumb found her mouth, her eyes closed, and her breathing quieted. The minute I laid her down, though, she’d begin howling. Eventually, she would get herself to sleep until the next bout.

My first inclination is to sleep with her body cradled against my chest, but my husband assures me that will only start an unshakeable habit. I was ready to rock her to sleep in the glider in her bedroom and probably would have accidentally had I not forgotten to put on a sweatshirt as I rushed from my dreams to take my turn tending to E’s crying across the hall.

It feels a little overwhelming to have signed on to be this little person’s home base for the rest of my life, but more than that I love to feel so needed. And, at the end of a particularly stressful or mind numbing day, E and my husband are that comfort for me.

As I am patting her back and lulling myself to sleep as I stand with E in my arms swaying from side to side, I remember my twin sister saying that she wishes for the days when her son (now six years old) would cuddle. E melts into my body as she sinks back to sleep. I read somewhere that separation anxiety can last until a child is two years old. My first reaction to reading this was to dread all the long nights I had before me. My second thought was that I only had one more year of E’s late night cuddling so I better enjoy each one.

"Blessing" Book Cover

“Blessing” Book Cover

I just finished listening to “Blessings” by Anna Quindlen. It is gut wrenchingly good. The writing has that balance that is so difficult to find today. It is so well crafted and thoughtful yet still accessible. It is a story so well written that, in the twists and turns, I had to remind myself that this was only fiction.

“Blessings” is a store about a newborn baby abandoned at the driveway of a wealthy estate owned by the Blessing Family. The caretaker, a man in his twenties, finds the newborn wrapped in a soiled flannel shirt in a flimsy cardboard box. The baby is still so new to the world that she has the stub of her umbilical cord – tied off by the barrette of her estranged mother. The man just out of prison with barely a father to speak of for himself, raises the baby as his own.

Quindlen writes about the early days of parenting as only a parent can. She accurately yet poetically describes those frantic days of trying  to understand an infant that cries for no clear reason and seems to want nothing more than to go back to whence she came. You can just picture the smiles of this baby girl and how she clasps this young father’s finger and unfurled the heart a harsh life has locked away. You are proud of the single father like a he is a friend because Quindlen develops each character so nicely.

I think what grabbed my heart the most is how she so accurately touches on what a baby does to the hearts of those around her. Quindlen describes perfectly how a baby seems to open possibility in the minds of those jaded by the world. She makes the young man want more out of life for his daughter and himself. And, for those that feel as if they have outlived their life just as the matriarch of The Blessings thinks, a baby makes you look forward to the future if for nothing more than to watch the little one take her first steps or watch the dawn of recognition in her eyes and smile.

It is beautiful to listen to and filled with enough suspense to keep me listening to it. I found myself keeping my Ipod on as I cleaned up around the house or rode my bike to the office just so I could get in a few more minutes of the story. It is one of those books you do not want to end, but cannot put down. Yes, it is sappy, but I think mothers and grandmothers in particular will like it.

I will not spoil the book for you, but will say that I think any parent will find it heart wrenchingly beautiful and accurate. I found myself hugging E a bit tighter and gazing at her a bit longer. My husband thought I was ridiculous. But if something makes you cherish your life just that much more, why not let yourself get lost in it?

20 Aug bath by morethanexpat

20 Aug bath by morethanexpat

E is nearly eleven months already. As I brush my teeth, I look down into the bathtub and see it still scattered with the plastic cups she played with during her bath tonight. I bought those cups for her a few days ago and thought she’d like them. I think I read somewhere that stacked and nested things are interesting to and good for children about her age. And she does seems to like them. On overwhelming sense of satisfaction rushes through me looking down at those primary-colored plastic cups. I often think about how I would do anything for my daughter and that I want to give the world to this little impish sweetheart of mine. I tell her that too. “Pooh, I love you more than the sun and moon and stars above – more than the heaven and earth combined. That is how much I love you.” I say to her.

She truly feels like my whole world sometimes. I mean this in the best possible way. To see her smile and splash with the simple toy I bought her tells me that, yes, I am giving her everything she needs. I want to give her everything her heart desires and, in that moment, I am. I am successful in a way I have never known before. Her eyes are filled with pure happiness and she looks at me with out the slightest hint of doubt. I have not disappointed her yet. She knows no want. It fills my heart and could bring me to tears of joy. There is no greater sense of achievement than knowing your child is truly, plainly happy. I want her to have it all and, right there, in the tub with those plastic cups, she does.

Before she was born, I worried so much about doing the right things for and how I would know what to give her and doubted I would ever be enough for her – a good enough mother. It felt so complicated and insurmountable, but it is really quite simple, actually. It is the small acts and little deeds day in and day out. It is the feeding, bathing, laundry, and clothing. Most of all it is holding her and swaying her to sleep. With her bottom cradled under one forearm and the hand of the other arm gently holding her head in the nape of my neck just under my chin, I sway. Or I pat her sweet little back with one hand as we rock from side to side. She soon places her cheek against my collar-bone and starts sucking her thumb. Her breathing deepens and she eventually closes her gorgeous big eyes. I love that moment. We sway chest to chest and heart to heart. In those delicious moments, I am enough. My whole world is in my arms and I have never been so at peace.

I am lagging behind on a few of my Summer Bucket List items -

Swimming Lessons

I have decided that taking E to a swimming pool even if it is our tiny blow up pool in the backyard is enough for now. She loves it all the same and it is so much less hassle.

Pool time by morethanexpat

Pool time by morethanexpat

Dinner on the Beach

We have not yet had dinner on the beach this summer. Frankly, the weirdos we had to share the beach with when we went during the afternoon was enough to put me off for a while. Either that or I need to find a new beach.

 Wearing a Dress

Lately, I am wearing dresses more often and by the time summer is out I will probably have gotten my average up to once per week. But Lil E looks so much cuter in a dress…don’t you agree?

Jean Dress by morethanexpat

Jean Dress by morethanexpat

Make an Outfit Each Month for E

Nope. I have not even attempted this one. I have signed myself up for a sewing class, though, with some other expat mums. I figure it will at least be social and motivate me to finally use my brand new sewing machine and all the great fabrics I have that are collecting dust.

I am following up this list on my Summer Bucket List from June. Number seven on my list was to host an Appetizer & Dessert dinner contest with friends in our newly remodeled sunroom. We got second place in the contest, but it does not really matter. We had a great time.

My husband put up some new lighting….

New Lighting by morethanexpat

New Lighting by morethanexpat

Our appetizer…roasted pork belly with crackling

Roasted Pork Belly by morethanexpat

Roasted Pork Belly by morethanexpat

Our dessert…a parfait with strawberry cheesecake ice cream and dark chocolate brownie

Parfait by morethanexpat

Parfait by morethanexpat

Summer is almost over and I am flying through my Summer Bucket List. I will share more with you on that in the coming days. At the top of my list was to get a new job. Well, today I start my new job. I am really looking forward to it, but have a little trepidation because you really just never know how things will work out.

To celebrate my new job offer, my husband, E and I went out for dinner last Thursday night. We tried a new Vietnamese restaurant in the neighborhood. He had beef Pho soup and I had seafood Pho soup. They were both delicious and nice and light which was perfect for summer.

seafood pho by morethanexpat

seafood pho by morethanexpat

beef pho by morethanexpat

beef pho by morethanexpat

E also likes riding on my husband’s shoulders….I just love how she looks at him like he is her own personal superhero.

Shoulders by morethanexpat

Shoulders by morethanexpat

Bubble Girl by F_mafra

Bubble Girl by F_mafra

While I was on vacation, I read “Bringing up Bebe: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting” by Pamela Druckerman. This is not a paid review, but only my musings. I would not recommend the book as a parenting guide. I would say it is more a combination of non-fiction autobiography and anthropological survey. It interested me because it gave another American mother’s perspective on raising a child in Europe. I was surprised by some of the clear differences in the French parenting style as compared to things I had observed of Dutch and expat families.

Work
I think the clearest difference is that French mothers seem not only expected to, but also want to return to work full time in three months or less after giving birth. And, along those same lines, there is much more acceptance and expectation of having children looked after by someone other than parents from a very young age. This would have been great information to have when working for a French manager. Looking back, it would have changed the context of many of our conversations.

French Woman_untitled by alex e proimos

French Woman_untitled by alex e proimos

There is an anecdote from the book that sticks with me of a French couple that pay to have their children driven to Saturday morning events so that the parents can go out to lunch together alone.That anecdote made me very aware of a practice that I think is generally accepted in the U.S. that a couple’s relationship gets essentially put on the back burner for several years with little ones. The French do not seem to see it that way. I remember a French woman quoted as saying that your relationship with your partner should be the relationship you put the most effort into because that is one of the few people you truly choose to have in your life. You are born into a family and your children are born unto you, but a partner is someone you hand pick. I found that a refreshing perspective.
It feels like there is a perception in French society that becoming a mother does not changes a woman who much. You are expected to get your figure back in a matter of months and your values should not change. Granted, I think American mothers can go to the extreme in taking on the mantle/yoke of motherhood, but I also find the French expectations just a little too unrealistic.

My husband and I took a birth prep class with other expats and there was one exercise in particular that stuck with me. The instructor laid out pictures on the table depicting aspects of our lives like career, shopping, food, sex, beliefs, fitness, family and so on. We talked about our expectations of how these aspects would shift in importance immediately after our baby is born and for the longer term. Then she said it will feel like someone has come along and lifted the table-cloth of your life and tossed these aspects into the air. In the first weeks, everything will just be up in the air.

After a while, all the various aspects of your life will settle back down, but will re-ordered themselves sometimes in an unpredictable fashion. Some things will fall out of your life completely. I think that best explains what the first year of parenthood has felt like for me so far. It changes a person in ways you just cannot imagine or sometimes even explain. You cannot predict it and you should not fight it. It is just natural. There is a huge cultural aspect that invisibly guides some of the re-shuffling I think, though, and it never became more clear to me than after reading this book.

Mini moi au sommet de l'Arc de triomphe by lunavorax

Mini moi au sommet de l’Arc de triomphe by lunavorax

Parenting
I also find some of the aspects of the French parenting style to be a relief. The one that most immediately changed my parenting style is what I think of as the Parent Monologue. It is this belief that a parent should constantly be talking to a child and explaining every singe thing to a child as it is happening. I was doing it because I thought it was supposed to help with speech development. It was such a relief to read in this book that not all parents do this and children turn out just fine. Carrying on a constant, one-sided, third person plural dialogue is exhausting and can be embarrassing in public. I felt like a crazy person at times.

In a very general sense, I found the philosophies of the day cares in France to be like that in The Netherlands at least with regard to babies. My child is only an infant so that is my only point of comparison. They both seem to think that a baby should mostly be left to play by themselves and other babies. There is no pressure to teach a baby. There is a schedule to a baby’s day, but that revolves around sleeping and eating. The focus is more on socialization and sensory development through play.

I think in America there is far more pressure to educate children from as early an age as possible or even in utero. It was a relief to hear that French parents do not do that either and to hear the author quote statistics that French kids are no worse off because of it. For instance, The Netherlands ranks tenth in the UN’s 2007 Education Ranking and the French are not too far behind at 13th while the U.S. ranks 21st and the U.K. lags even further behind at 30th. There are a lot of factors that impact this rating probably one of the least of which is the day care system, but it is reassuring to know that my child is no worse off in the Dutch system that she would be in the U.S.
As a parent, I find it to be a relief that I do not need to constantly be teaching and interacting with my child. I think it is important that a child can entertain themselves. I also find in my daughter that she is easily over stimulated and is easily happy playing alone with a toy for several minutes. I used to try to get more involved and direct her play and step in with a running narrative, but I felt like I just got in the way. And it dissolves any guilt I felt about sending my child to day care. We are lucky to have a day care really close to our house that we are all happy with. I think it is good for the whole family that she gets out of the house and interacts with other people and children.

In the end, most parents are looking for things that reinforce what they are doing as parents. This book reinforced a few things I was thinking and opened my eyes to other ideas that I may or may not try.

The book also expressed the French belief that children become part of a family’s dynamic, but that a family does not revolve around the child. I do not know completely how I feel about this part yet. A child vastly changes the dynamic of a family especially in the beginning. Our lives do to a large extent revolve around our child and mainly mine because I am currently a stay at home mother. I structure our day around E’s naptimes. It seems like a fool’s errand not to. She has changed the way we socialize, but she has not eliminated it entirely. She has changed the way we travel, but she has not kept us from traveling. We will just have to wait and see when E gets older.
Food
One of the biggest differences in the French parenting style revolves around food. The author insisted that picky eaters do not exist in France. All foods are incorporated into a child’s diet, no foods are off-limits, and snacking is not an option. From a very early age, children have a three course meal beginning with a vegetable followed by a main and then fruit for dessert at lunch and dinner. There is also a small, afternoon meal or what I think of as like a British tea time that usually includes a sweet cake. And, oftentimes, chocolate is part of the afternoon meal. The author mentioned her daughter was fed a chocolate bar nestled in a baguette. Oh, how good does that sound??

In the future, I want to try to try this – the choco baguette as well as the three course meals. The author gave an example of feeding her children slices of raw vegetable as she prepared lunch and dinner. I want to try that at least for dinner. One of the key takeaways I have from this book is that trying different foods is a must for French kids. They have a philosophy that a child will continue to try a food until they like it. Parents and care takers make a big effort to prepare fruits and vegetables and all types of proteins for that matter in a variety of forms. If a child does not like steamed carrots, for instance, then they raw or shredded. It is not about sneaking the nutritional value of a food into a meal. For now, it is just a theory to me. E has not teeth yet and now eats only pureed foods.

A key aspect to this that author is quick to admit is culture. It was far easier to introduce this eating philosophy to her children because the day care and every family around her is doing it too. And, let’s be honest, did she really have much choice in the matter? Her kids eat this way at French public school. Why fight the system when it is good for the child?

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