The Book of Possibilities Replaced with a Plan

The movie "Last Holiday" with Queen Latifa is one of my favorite "feel good" movies and I just loved the character's "book of possibilities". She made the book scrapbook-like and put in it, things she wanted to do, places she wanted to go and recipes she wanted to try.

There is a scene in the movie where she is looking at her book and crying because she hadn't implemented any of her possibilities, that is, until she thinks she only has a few weeks to live.

Only when she thinks she is dying, does she begin to live out her possibilities.

I don't want that to happen to me.

Debbi has a great Friday quote post today that got me thinking about this possibility/dream /action/plan thing.

For instance, the other morning when I was taking 13 to school, we were listening to the radio and the dj (Kidd Kraddick) was talking about single parents. According to some research he quoted, 1 in 5 single parents never dates again. Then he went on and described that single parent . . . sweat pants (I was wearing blue jean shorts), tee shirt (check!) flip flops (check!), no make-up (I prefer fresh faced but . . . check!) and so on and so on . . .

13 just looked at me like I was from outer space because, I was saying "check!" with each description.

Now the dating thing, I'm currently not interested in as we all know why (thank you vileman for making me currently not trust males) but I think right now, it's okay that I shy away from that part until I'm ready.

But I don't want to look like I have given up on myself either.

Right now my biggest "dream" is to find a good job. This job will be the most important job of my working career because it has to be something that I am satisfied with, that pays the bills and allows the kids and I to move into chapter two of this journey.

I haven't really written down a plan to find this great job. Oh, I've dreamed about the possibilities of finding great job and cashing my paycheck. I have been job hunting on the internet, large company websites, and the newspaper but I haven't sat down and decided what it is that I want to do, or at least narrowed it down. Instead, I have been applying for things I think I could do, even if it isn't something that might interest me.

I need a well thought out plan.

Exercising is another dream/possibility without a plan.

Sometimes, I daydream about doing yoga every morning and then walking after the kids get home from school or riding the exercise bike in the shop should it be raining. I need an exercise schedule stat! But more importantly, I need to implement the exercise schedule . . . STAT!

So, over the next few days, I will be making doable plans.

Finding Inspiration from 12 Y/O

First, thank you all for your nice and supportive comments. The vileness of the situation is not only embarrassing - though I know we have nothing to be embarrassed about because of his actions; but also, I feel I will always be judged, as in "how could she not have known?"

The vileman was in expert in compartmentalizing. Knowing when to be "family man" and when to be "vileman". I had my suspicions, but no proof. Thankfully, he ran out of luck and was caught.

Up until I started this new blog, only my family and a few of my friends knew about our situation. I have waited seven months to start blogging the truth.

Due to the embarrassment factor, I chose to move the children and myself to my parents' house. New town and new schools where no one has to know about vileman.

***

Last spring, I purchased new shorts for 12 Y/O (who was 11 at that time), all of them a size 12. None of them fit - too tight. He went from a size boys 10 to 14, skipping size 12. He was in no way chubby or husky or plump.

Anyway, this past summer I noticed his belly was poochy and even saw a few cellulite patches. We of course, had a traumatic summer where we fled away from our home, the neighborhood swimming pool, greenbelt trails and a YMCA membership. So I was hoping he wouldn't be the new "fat" kid by the time school started. I think he might have weighed 110 pounds by the end of August and at 5 foot even, that is still no where near being fat. I was just worried about the belly unfitness (my problem).

School starts and up here, the kids have PE more than twice a week. And "coach" is lazy. He just looks like a former high school athlete who drank one too many beers. But he makes the kids run laps, do sit-ups and push ups.

Add karate lessons twice a week, by Thanksgiving, 12 Y/O had the makings of a six pack (I have a pony keg). His biceps and triceps have definition, thanks to those knuckle push-ups and planks.

A couple of weeks ago, I noticed his jeans were baggy (size boys 14's) and asked him to get on the scale.

101.4 pounds.


All I could think: "I sure wished I had started doing what he was doing back at the end of August."

Now is my chance.

Start today.

And in six months, I'm going to be telling myself "I'm so glad I finally started."

Vacation Is Over (Not that I was on vacation ...)

January the first, came and went for me with nary a thought about diet or exercise. And I have to tell you, that was nice not fretting about health changes for the new year.

Since January 1997, I have been a yo-yo dieter. Every year, around December 30th, I would start thinking about meal plans and exercise schedules, promising myself "this is the year . . ."

January 2009 came around, and the only thing on my mind was my divorce date on the 6th.

I was so giddy that January day, driving the four hour commute home, after being in court all day long. I stopped at McD's to go to the ladies room (it was a four hour drive!). And since I was already there, I thought I had better have me some supper. Instead of ordering a small plain hamburger, I celebrated with a Big Mac.

Being giddy also gave me an awful sweet tooth. I have been very giddy for 16 straight days.

Prior to the giddiness, I was maintaining around 170 to 173 pounds. And I did have a very joyful Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years.

Thirty-five days of joyfulness followed by 16 days of giddiness begets a fat ass.

Alas, time to start thinking about those meal plans and exercise schedules . . .