Poor Catriona. You will recall she's just given birth to a little boy whom they've now named Matthew. Some female members of the family got a lot of ants in their pants because she wasn't up for visitors straight away and I had to have stern words with one of them - no guesses which one!! However Catriona didn't make life any easier for herself when she texted me and said I could come over anytime because she knew I wouldn't outstay my welcome and also that I wouldn't have a hundred kids in tow! This did not go down well with my darling daughter who was desperate to hold a newborn in her arms again - and also with my other niece, Jenny, who was moving down south from just outside Aberdeen the following Wednesday and wanted to see Matthew before she left.
Catriona's main problem seemed to be breastfeeding which, for those of us who have tried it and well know, is a pretty fraught business and that, coupled with lack of sleep, can stress a new mama out big time. But it also kind of didn't make sense inviting me over when I wasn't bothered when I saw the little one who - let's face it - wasn't going anywhere anytime soon - and others were champing at the bit so I had to tactfully say (via Ian) that perhaps she should think about having Nikki & Jenny over first and I could babysit the girls so's to reduce the stress slightly then I could see him later. This created a fair amount of drama (not helped by Ian getting confused with some of the details) - and as Nikki said at one point - "Granny would be turning in her grave" but it all got sorted out in the end and nobody came to blows.
In the car discussing this one day Nikki says to me,
"I just love how she's got Ian & Margaret dancing around her doing everything for her, organising her visits and everything. Must be nice to have your very own PA."
*aghast look from the mother*
"What??"
"Are you kidding me?? YOU moved IN with me 6 months BEFORE you had your first baby despite living in a perfectly good house of your own and despite me desperately trying to complete an Open University course and pleading with you to hang on one more month."
*silence from the daughter*
Families - don't you just love 'em.
I was going to insert a couple of photos of Matthew at this point but Photobucket isn't playing this morning so here's one I made earlier. He cried with everyone else but snuggled down when he got to me and slept for 20 minutes - the boy obviously knows a decent bosie when he sees one! (Bosie is Scots for cuddle or hug - cuddling into my bosie means cuddling into someone's chest).
And now I hereby record that I am about to do something about my weight which is slowly but surely spiralling out of control. I thought maybe if I splattered it all over a Prosebox entry it might pack more of a punch than if I just try and lose some of the pounds myself - which is basically what I've been trying to do for the last 2 years. I'm almost at the point of joining one of those clubs even though I know they work purely on the strength of motivation from others in the same boat and not because of any magical formula.
When I moved into this house in May 2008, I had to go in for a minor pelvic floor operation the following month which meant I would be off work for 6 weeks with no heavy activity, driving, lifting etc. for 2-3 weeks. I had managed to get myself up to 10st 4lbs (144 pounds) at that point and panicked, thinking I'd be like the side of a house by the time I went back to work because I knew being at home all day would mean the likelihood of a lot of extra snacking and far less self-control so I made a concentrated effort to reduce calories and walk every day. It worked. Over the following year I lost 2 stone and as that coincided with being single again, it was a very happy time I'm glad to say!
I kept it off for a few years but once I became ill, it was impossible not to let it creep up because I couldn't do any sort of activity to work it off or I would 'crash'. So this morning I weighed in at 10st 10.5 lbs (150.5 pounds) and as I can currently hardly breathe in the jeans I'm wearing, it's time. A gain of 6.5 lbs doesn't sound like much in 9 years but the problem with that is that it was already 2 stone too much for the small 5 ft 3 ins frame it was carrying!
Another problem is that I was getting these very distressing stress attacks which I know are not panic attacks although sound very like them. They are very common with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and have something to do with inflammation in the body. One of the symptoms was large amounts of adrenaline shooting through my body which I found really uncomfortable and impossible to be distracted from. That also made me panic which just made the whole thing worse so in an effort to try things which might help this, I attempted to take better control over my blood sugar, and have been eating much more regularly which does seem to have helped. But of course that means I'm consuming an extra few hundred calories on a daily basis and I've found that I can only really get away with around 1700/ 1800 cals a day before I start to put on weight.
I was told by an Dietician once that everyone has a set point for their weight and it's just unfair that some have higher set points than others. (It didn't help that this person was slim as a rake and had just told me that she'd fancied a piece of cake with her cup of tea that morning and had just went ahead and had it with no guilt). And I must admit my sister once said wisely - "you know, all the women in our family are constantly trying to lose weight but we're all around the same weight - if we could just get used to being 10 and a half stone, we'd be a lot happier!" And I have to admit that's true but although I'm a lot more relaxed about my weight now and would settle for being around 10 stone nowadays, I have to admit life was a lot easier at 8 and a half stone.
When I was maintaining that weight, I would never eat breakfast and would have a snack of fruit, crisps and yoghurt when I got to work at 10 which may not sound too bad but I would often make that last until I got home at teatime. Which meant of course that the bulk of my calories were being eaten in the evening when I couldn't work them off although it didn't seem to make much difference to anything - I still lost weight. And although my eating habits were rubbish, I was constantly getting told I 'looked well'. Even just the basic act of moving around was much easier, not to mention fitting into clothes and knowing virtually anything would look good on me. And, sad to say, my success with the opposite sex was very much more noticeable at that weight than it had been previously.
Anyway it's all changed days now. The only exercise I can safely do is walking but I just can't find any enjoyment in it. That might sound strange and don't get me wrong - I love a good walk as much as the next person but once walking turns into something I have to do 3 times a week, then it seems to become a chore and I just can't get into it. Plus I often have to 'pay for it' afterwards and sometimes it's just not worth it. One of the main problems is feeling like the need for a treat in the evening which I think possibly stems from childhood. We always had what we called 'a cup of tea' when the news came on at 10 o'clock but, in reality, was more like 'supper' because there were all sorts of goodies accompanying the tea - often toast, scones, pancakes and always biscuits and cakes (having a baker for a Dad occasionally had its down sides!).
When I moved down to Aberdeen I lived in what is commonly known as 'digs' down here and I remember our landlady leaving flasks of tea & coffee plus tins of homebaked goodies out for us in our sitting room to have in the evenings so the habit didn't change unfortunately. And then when I got my own flat later I would sit and snack at night, not helped by the fact I was born a night owl so never went to bed until late. (When I did a children's nursing course for a year once, I remember having to get up at 5.30 when I was on a 12 hour shift and really struggling to get to bed at a decent time - I was always going around like a zombie on those shifts!).
I don't know what the answer is. The only activity I seem able to do which is completely distracting and stops me eating is online jigsaws which is kind of a weird one I know. I used to absolutely love doing jigsaws as a kid and used to have an old painting board of my brother's which I kept under my bed which always had a huge jigsaw in the making on it and which I was always doing after school instead of homework! I used to make up stories as I was doing it as I remember and one of the reasons I used to love Christmas at my aunt's hotel in Edinburgh was because she had a huge dining table and would get out the inevitable jigsaw which everyone would delve into once we'd had the big meal and all the plates were cleared away. Aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. would join in at various points and then go off and do other things and my sister & I would be the ones still sitting there in the evening desperately trying to finish it before the table was needed again the next day!
When Boyd and I joined the world of computers and bought our own in 1999, I discovered there was an online version of jigsaws and, just like e-readers, thought it would never replace the real thing. But after buying the programme one day and sitting up THE WHOLE NIGHT putting together all sorts of wonderful pictures, I realised that this was just as addictive as my board under the bed! I recently bought the app of the latest version last week in an attempt to distract me from food and eventually got to bed at 3 a.m. and even that was a struggle! What I need is a 'THAT'S ENOUGH' button which is timed to depress at, say, 11 p.m., and which immediately exits your programme or app and switches off your computer. Then puts you to bed.
SO - I need your slimming secrets, distraction activities and the like and pronto before I have to start slobbing around in an old dressing gown because nothing fits any more !
Catriona's main problem seemed to be breastfeeding which, for those of us who have tried it and well know, is a pretty fraught business and that, coupled with lack of sleep, can stress a new mama out big time. But it also kind of didn't make sense inviting me over when I wasn't bothered when I saw the little one who - let's face it - wasn't going anywhere anytime soon - and others were champing at the bit so I had to tactfully say (via Ian) that perhaps she should think about having Nikki & Jenny over first and I could babysit the girls so's to reduce the stress slightly then I could see him later. This created a fair amount of drama (not helped by Ian getting confused with some of the details) - and as Nikki said at one point - "Granny would be turning in her grave" but it all got sorted out in the end and nobody came to blows.
In the car discussing this one day Nikki says to me,
"I just love how she's got Ian & Margaret dancing around her doing everything for her, organising her visits and everything. Must be nice to have your very own PA."
*aghast look from the mother*
"What??"
"Are you kidding me?? YOU moved IN with me 6 months BEFORE you had your first baby despite living in a perfectly good house of your own and despite me desperately trying to complete an Open University course and pleading with you to hang on one more month."
*silence from the daughter*
Families - don't you just love 'em.
I was going to insert a couple of photos of Matthew at this point but Photobucket isn't playing this morning so here's one I made earlier. He cried with everyone else but snuggled down when he got to me and slept for 20 minutes - the boy obviously knows a decent bosie when he sees one! (Bosie is Scots for cuddle or hug - cuddling into my bosie means cuddling into someone's chest).
And now I hereby record that I am about to do something about my weight which is slowly but surely spiralling out of control. I thought maybe if I splattered it all over a Prosebox entry it might pack more of a punch than if I just try and lose some of the pounds myself - which is basically what I've been trying to do for the last 2 years. I'm almost at the point of joining one of those clubs even though I know they work purely on the strength of motivation from others in the same boat and not because of any magical formula.
When I moved into this house in May 2008, I had to go in for a minor pelvic floor operation the following month which meant I would be off work for 6 weeks with no heavy activity, driving, lifting etc. for 2-3 weeks. I had managed to get myself up to 10st 4lbs (144 pounds) at that point and panicked, thinking I'd be like the side of a house by the time I went back to work because I knew being at home all day would mean the likelihood of a lot of extra snacking and far less self-control so I made a concentrated effort to reduce calories and walk every day. It worked. Over the following year I lost 2 stone and as that coincided with being single again, it was a very happy time I'm glad to say!
I kept it off for a few years but once I became ill, it was impossible not to let it creep up because I couldn't do any sort of activity to work it off or I would 'crash'. So this morning I weighed in at 10st 10.5 lbs (150.5 pounds) and as I can currently hardly breathe in the jeans I'm wearing, it's time. A gain of 6.5 lbs doesn't sound like much in 9 years but the problem with that is that it was already 2 stone too much for the small 5 ft 3 ins frame it was carrying!
Another problem is that I was getting these very distressing stress attacks which I know are not panic attacks although sound very like them. They are very common with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and have something to do with inflammation in the body. One of the symptoms was large amounts of adrenaline shooting through my body which I found really uncomfortable and impossible to be distracted from. That also made me panic which just made the whole thing worse so in an effort to try things which might help this, I attempted to take better control over my blood sugar, and have been eating much more regularly which does seem to have helped. But of course that means I'm consuming an extra few hundred calories on a daily basis and I've found that I can only really get away with around 1700/ 1800 cals a day before I start to put on weight.
I was told by an Dietician once that everyone has a set point for their weight and it's just unfair that some have higher set points than others. (It didn't help that this person was slim as a rake and had just told me that she'd fancied a piece of cake with her cup of tea that morning and had just went ahead and had it with no guilt). And I must admit my sister once said wisely - "you know, all the women in our family are constantly trying to lose weight but we're all around the same weight - if we could just get used to being 10 and a half stone, we'd be a lot happier!" And I have to admit that's true but although I'm a lot more relaxed about my weight now and would settle for being around 10 stone nowadays, I have to admit life was a lot easier at 8 and a half stone.
When I was maintaining that weight, I would never eat breakfast and would have a snack of fruit, crisps and yoghurt when I got to work at 10 which may not sound too bad but I would often make that last until I got home at teatime. Which meant of course that the bulk of my calories were being eaten in the evening when I couldn't work them off although it didn't seem to make much difference to anything - I still lost weight. And although my eating habits were rubbish, I was constantly getting told I 'looked well'. Even just the basic act of moving around was much easier, not to mention fitting into clothes and knowing virtually anything would look good on me. And, sad to say, my success with the opposite sex was very much more noticeable at that weight than it had been previously.
Anyway it's all changed days now. The only exercise I can safely do is walking but I just can't find any enjoyment in it. That might sound strange and don't get me wrong - I love a good walk as much as the next person but once walking turns into something I have to do 3 times a week, then it seems to become a chore and I just can't get into it. Plus I often have to 'pay for it' afterwards and sometimes it's just not worth it. One of the main problems is feeling like the need for a treat in the evening which I think possibly stems from childhood. We always had what we called 'a cup of tea' when the news came on at 10 o'clock but, in reality, was more like 'supper' because there were all sorts of goodies accompanying the tea - often toast, scones, pancakes and always biscuits and cakes (having a baker for a Dad occasionally had its down sides!).
When I moved down to Aberdeen I lived in what is commonly known as 'digs' down here and I remember our landlady leaving flasks of tea & coffee plus tins of homebaked goodies out for us in our sitting room to have in the evenings so the habit didn't change unfortunately. And then when I got my own flat later I would sit and snack at night, not helped by the fact I was born a night owl so never went to bed until late. (When I did a children's nursing course for a year once, I remember having to get up at 5.30 when I was on a 12 hour shift and really struggling to get to bed at a decent time - I was always going around like a zombie on those shifts!).
I don't know what the answer is. The only activity I seem able to do which is completely distracting and stops me eating is online jigsaws which is kind of a weird one I know. I used to absolutely love doing jigsaws as a kid and used to have an old painting board of my brother's which I kept under my bed which always had a huge jigsaw in the making on it and which I was always doing after school instead of homework! I used to make up stories as I was doing it as I remember and one of the reasons I used to love Christmas at my aunt's hotel in Edinburgh was because she had a huge dining table and would get out the inevitable jigsaw which everyone would delve into once we'd had the big meal and all the plates were cleared away. Aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. would join in at various points and then go off and do other things and my sister & I would be the ones still sitting there in the evening desperately trying to finish it before the table was needed again the next day!
When Boyd and I joined the world of computers and bought our own in 1999, I discovered there was an online version of jigsaws and, just like e-readers, thought it would never replace the real thing. But after buying the programme one day and sitting up THE WHOLE NIGHT putting together all sorts of wonderful pictures, I realised that this was just as addictive as my board under the bed! I recently bought the app of the latest version last week in an attempt to distract me from food and eventually got to bed at 3 a.m. and even that was a struggle! What I need is a 'THAT'S ENOUGH' button which is timed to depress at, say, 11 p.m., and which immediately exits your programme or app and switches off your computer. Then puts you to bed.
SO - I need your slimming secrets, distraction activities and the like and pronto before I have to start slobbing around in an old dressing gown because nothing fits any more !
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