Children--my dream come true

I've spent a lot of time on this blog talking about living the dream as far as health and diet go, but you must realize that I have many more dreams than just getting into better shape. One of my dreams has basically already come true. That is my dream of being part of a close-knit family.

Even when I was a little girl, I wanted bunches of kids. As an adolescent, I would write short stories and novels (yes, I had the writing fever even as a child), and each imaginary family that I created and wrote about would have numerous kids. During those girlhood years, I spent much time poring over baby name books and writing lists of possible names for my future children.

When I was only 23, I lost my first baby at just six weeks gestation. All I could think was that perhaps I wouldn't be able to produce children. But God smiled on me and gave me Meghann Elizabeth just a year later. She has been nothing but a blessing to me--such a Godly, wise, rational, brilliant girl that I love to spend time with; we talk on the phone several times a day. She came by tonight on her way to cover the county commissioners' meeting for the newspaper. Our time together was over too soon--it always is.

My little Meggie and me

When Megh was about to turn three, I lost another baby--this time at eight weeks. This loss was much tougher because now I truly knew the joys of parenthood. I remember sitting at my parents' house in early May that year as tornadoes ripped through Winston-Salem, destroying the ancient oaks in the Old Salem Square. I felt that the tornadoes were inside of me, ripping a precious life out of my body.

But the very next May, I gave birth to Chelsea Alyssa and was madly in love with her as soon as they put her on my belly in the delivery room. For the next few weeks after she was born, I would cry with joy just looking at her. I still feel the same way about this Godly, witty, intelligent, creative girl. She and I spent precious hours together this past Saturday as we visited the Ruby Rose Tea Room in Stoneville and talked, talked, talked. Daughters are treasures from above indeed.

Me with my little Chels

For several years after Chels was born, I was infertile. I began to assume that my childbearing days were over, but then one day during my private prayer time, God told me I would have a son. Sure enough, when Chels was 5 1/2, Elijah Blue was born. His sisters joked for years that he was glued to my hip. And so he was. This blue-eyed boy was a holy child from birth and touched a place in my heart that only a son can touch.

My divorce was toughest on him perhaps, but God has done such a work! Now Elijah and I are as close as ever; the bond that was always there has not been broken but instead strengthened. I look proudly at the little bitty fellow who has grown to be 6' tall--an anointed young man of God who is super-bright and artistically talented--a white boy who can dance like nobody's business and truly has a prophetic gift. We sometimes sit up late at night as he pours his heart out to me. How I treasure these times!

Me and my Little Boy Blue

As if my cup didn't already run over, God saw fit to continue to bless my womb. When Elijah was 2 1/2, my little Abigail Iona entered this world right there in my own bed at home! She was a gentle soul from the first and still has a loving persona. Her observant, thoughtful nature always pleases me. For example, she heard me say last Friday that I wished I could write down the history facts my uncle was telling me, so without being asked, she ran to find me a notebook and pen. She supplies me with fresh flowers whenever they can be found in the yard or woods.

As the only daughter I have left at home, sweet Abby has become my right hand. I don't know what I'd do without this little gal who truly has been endowed by God with the gift of helps; she doesn't even have to be asked to do what needs to be done to make my life easier.

My sweet Abby and me

 My childbearing days seemed to be over after Abigail was born. When she was four, I lost a set of twins at 11 weeks--a very tragic loss for me. I was accidentally pregnant again the next month but lost that baby at six weeks. I went through a very dark time for many months after that. I recognized that I had already been blessed by God with four wonderful children, but I had this gut feeling that it wasn't supposed to be over yet.

(Click on this link to hear a song that comforted me when I lost my babies, "Jesus Has a Rocking Chair" by the Greenes.)

Sure enough, it ain't over 'til it's over. My little Mister Malachi Ian appeared on Earth when my baby Abby was six. This sturdy, healthy baby has grown into the sweetest seven-year-old in this world--in my eyes anyway. He, as his older brother once was, is glued to my hip. His cheerful and loving personality--something I didn't quite expect when he was a difficult toddler--is sunlight on my cloudiest days.

Me with my loving little Malachi

 The other night before bedtime, I was listening to Phillips, Craig and Dean's "His Grace Still Amazes Me." Malachi climbed into my lap and exclaimed with a big smile, "That's my favorite song!" Then he looked at me with loving brown eyes and said, "And you're my favorite person. I love you more than anybody in the whole world."

I suddenly couldn't see very well. Everything was sort of blurred and wet for a minute, and I thought my heart would burst with the love pulsating within it. As his little head laid on my shoulder and that tiny hand clasped mine, I knew that one of my biggest dreams had come true: God had given me children.

I can never thank Him enough for that. I treasure the five I have here on Earth, I rest in peace that I will see the five I lost up in Heaven, and if He sees fit to give me any more, I will welcome those, too. There's unlimited love in my heart for children.

"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights. . ." (James 1:17) That is how I see children--as gifts from above--from somewhere over the rainbow. . .that arc of promise given by the Father.

(Click on this link to hear Whitney Houston sing "The Greatest Love of All." Yes, I believe the children are our future!)

The YAY ME! awards

Something is wrong with the set of scales at our house. Seriously wrong.

My hubster Superman has transformed his daily diet for the past week into one that Jack LaLanne would've been proud of but instead of losing weight, he has rather GAINED a little bit. I, too, have changed my wicked ways and have only lost half of a pound. (As I said earlier, I'm not as worried about numbers as I am good health, but my poor hubster wants that number to come down!)

Perhaps it is the hubster's hair that is adding weight!

That sweet man who fantasizes about greasy cheeseburgers and large sodas (better than large--or small--greasy women!) has been religiously eating fresh green salads, raw fruits and yogurt daily for over a week. Few are the sweets he intakes and much is the water he partakes (of--okay that ruined my internal rhyme).

Last night when he did his weekly weigh-in, he threw up his hands and said, "I'm just going back to the way I used to eat!" I begged him not to, so tonight before work, he ate his usual green salad before we fixed him grapes and peanut butter-filled celery to take to the job. Baby steps, Superman--baby steps.

As for me, I am doing about the same as last week despite my good intentions to surpass last week's baby steps--maybe even take some froggie hops in this Mother May I "Let's Get Healthy" game. Saturday I walked my one time around the block but had to quit because I had waited too long before walking--it was nearly dark. Sunday I was gone all day, and when I got back, it was snowy and nearly dark again, hence, no walk.

But before I get too negative, let's inject some positivity into this positively positive endeavor of mine.

It's time for the YAY ME! awards:

1.  On MONDAY--ahhh, Monday--the hubster walked with me, and I made two trips around the block. As London Tipton would say on Disney's "The Suite Life of Zack and Cody," "YAY ME!" My legs were struggling but not as bad as before when I only made one round. Muscles DO get stronger with use; my fourth grade health book was right!
AN INCREASE IN EXERCISE!

2.  My baby steps included me eating only the organic burger with fresh lettuce and raw onions on Saturday night when everyone else ate the patty in a carbohydrate-loaded, mayo-laden hamburger bun. (And I only ate one burger to their two!) And what's more--I only ate a piece and a half of pizza at the buffet today when I usually eat at least four.
SMALLER PORTION SIZES AND A DECREASE IN BREAD!

3.  When the snack urge hits late at night, I have still been forgoing potato chips and nibbling baked pita chips and carrot sticks (yes, still dipped in Hidden Valley Ranch dip--*sad sigh*). The next goal is to stop late night snacking altogether, but hey, at least I have changed the choice of snacks and left behind taco-flavored Doritos.
BETTER CHOICE OF SNACK FOODS, INCLUDING RAW VEGGIES!

This was last year's box, but this year's was even bigger!

4.  Check this out--my big box of Valentine's chocolates is still half full and Valentine's Day was over a week ago! You have no idea how monumental this is. I even shared two or three with the hubster. I had to bite my lip when he reached for a piece of that chocolaty delight (Oh no--what if he gets my molasses chew? Surely he won't get my chocolate-covered toffee!), but Lois Lane is always glad to share with Superman. Why, at Sunday lunch, I even passed on my mama's angel food cake topped with peaches and whipped cream so that I could eat a cookie or two (or three or four) at my inlaws' house for supper on Sunday night! I am learning how to barter for my sweets (you can have the cookies if you pass on the cake).
MUCH LESS EATING OF CHOCOLATE AND OTHER SWEETS!

5.  I have decided that to keep healthy eating interesting, we must eat a variety of foods, rather than getting bogged down in the same ole same ole. Today I left behind the world of apples and oranges and enjoyed two exotic fruits--fresh kiwi and mango. They were delicious! I felt positively tropical--nearly put on my lei and hula skirt (oh yeah, I forgot--I can't wear my hula skirt any more because of the jelly rolls/side meat I have accumulated!). Variety is one of the spices of life. Mix it up, people!
CREATIVE NUTRITION LED TO CONTINUED INTEREST IN HEALTHY EATING!

RED ALERT! RED ALERT! It's confession time and the priest ain't here! I didn't drink much water today (being out and about so much all day, plus my distiller broke--really it did!), I drank a few glasses of sweet tea at lunch (I had to meet my cousin to make her wedding plans and the lunch buffet included a drink--I am not one to waste money), I ate a breakfast sandwich from Subway when I met a preacher to discuss upcoming revivals (no excuse except extreme hunger), and I didn't exercise at all today (unless you count the long haul to and from Elijah's baseball field). BAD GIRL!

But now the day is over, night is drawing (has drawn) nigh. Leslie will soar o'er her failures, like birds that have learned to fly.

After all, says Scarlett O'Hara, tomorrow is another day!

Baby steps

Climbing the stairs one step at a time!

 I used to love to play "Mother May I?" when I was a kid. Do y'all remember that game? One person was "Mother" and would stand far away from the other kids lined up at the starting line. "Mother" would call out an order to one of the kids.

"Leslie, take three baby steps."

I was supposed to reply, "Mother, may I?" When "Mother" gave me permission, I could move forward three baby steps. If I forgot to ask for permission and just began taking the steps, "Mother" would order me to go back to the starting line. That was tough if you had advanced a long way!

The goal was to get to the finish line first. I would long for "Mother" to call out "giant steps" or even "butterfly twirls" because I could really make progress with those.

I am glad to say that I am taking baby steps toward my dream of being healthier. I wish I could say I am taking giant steps, but after the few weeks of fighting a destructive virus, even baby steps are thrilling to me!

Baby step #1: I am walking! And I mean farther than from the couch to the refrigerator. No more couch potato am I. I had started walking (twice!) right before the virus struck but had to give it up when my legs got so weak. This week I walked around the block on two different days.

Okay, so that's no Olympic record, but for me it was progress. Gee, I hate to admit my weakness, but I will just say it up in here--my legs HURT as I walked up the hills in my neighborhood. My heart was sad as I thought about how I used to effortlessly walk "March of Dimes" walk-a-thons when I was a teenager--20 miles up and down "hills and hollers."

What has become of that fit girl? Unh, unh, unh. Lord have mercy.

I was not sore the next day, however. That must mean I could've pushed myself more possibly. I just wish I could've walked every day this week. But sometimes it was raining, and other times I was chauffeuring kids all over the place for games and practices.

My goal this coming week is to walk at least four times--get me a double portion of walking. I guess I'll stick to walking around the block, but I might add an extra foray onto a different street or up the hill to my little outdoor sanctuary behind a local church.

Baby steps just might become "toddler steps."

Baby step #2: I began eating at least one raw fruit a day. Okay, okay--so I generally did that anyway. But there were days I missed back then. Not this week. (Until today--oh dear, oh dear.)

And yes, for all of you health Nazis, I realize that one measly fruit a day is like dropping a pebble in the ocean and hoping for a tidal wave. But give me credit for progress. I am on the road to at least two raw fruits a day. And can you give me some extra credit for adding a glass of fruit juice each day as well (even pulpy orange juice NOT from concentrate)?

Baby step #3: I religiously ate raw vegetables several days. I eat cooked vegetables every day always, but I believe raw ones are better and pack a terrific enzymatic and nutritional punch. I mainly dined on carrots, but cucumbers and broccoli entered the mix as well.

My goal is to eat one green salad each day. I used to do that each day for lunch, but that was then and this is now.

Now I've got to figure out how to eat raw veggies without Hidden Valley Ranch dip. Where there's a will, there's a way, as Ma Ingalls would've said on "Little House on the Prairie."

Baby step #4: I cut way back on my refined sugar intake. NOT A SINGLE CANDY BAR ALL WEEK! Yay! I did allow myself some of the chocolates that the hubster gave me for Valentine's Day because I didn't want to hurt his feelings or anything. :)

The demons this week came in the form of Girl Scout cookies. I had ordered six boxes (I have a bunch of kids--remember?!). The problem was that the hubster, unbeknownst to me, also ordered six boxes. So there was nothing to do but eat about four a day.

Wait! Wait! Before you judge, realize that normally in mid-February, I would be eating double that, until all boxes were empty. I was a relatively good girl (not Scout) this week with regard to forgoing cookies.

Baby step #5: I did not eat a single potato chip all week. Are you listening? I DID NOT EAT A SINGLE POTATO CHIP! That's right--uh huh.

When the temptation hit to partake of those chips that I so love, I made a dash for the baked pita chips with no fat and fewer calories. They were actually pretty good. I can't believe that I am about to admit that I didn't miss my beloved potato chips at all.

Summary: I did not take any giant steps or butterfly twirls, but baby steps will eventually get you to the goal if you don't turn around and head in the opposite direction. I intend to improve even more this coming week.

Goals for the week:
1. Walking around the block at least four days.
2. Eating two raw fruits a day.
3. Eating a salad each weekday for lunch.
4. Staying away from potato chips, bread, and refined sugar
5. Drinking at least six glasses of distilled water per day (I normally do 4-6).

And the hubster bought me five pounds of organic carrots! Guess who's going to make fresh juice?

Baby steps here in Oz, but I am determined to live the dream of nurturing my abused body back to health.

Won't you join me? Tell me what you're doing to be in better health. Maybe you'll inspire me on this dream journey I am taking!

Oh yeah! And have a happy President's Day this week!

Mental motion--Forward! MARCH!

The road may look dark right now, but the sun is shining just up ahead! (Photo by Monty Stevens)

Living the dream has been no cakewalk this week. I felt as if I had been plopped right back into sepia-toned Kansas with the twister headed straight toward me and Miss Gulch riding away with my little dog. When your health suffers, it's hard to focus on doing what it takes to achieve the dream.

Some sort of detestable virus started toying with me nearly two weeks ago, but I was able to keep going--even walking for exercise around the block (in accordance with my dream of being in Madonna-like shape). I would have an okay day followed by a yucko day, as far as how my body felt. (Every day above ground is a good one, relatively speaking!)

By the beginning of this past week, the days of utter exhaustion/queasiness/achiness were outnumbering the days of recuperation. Yet still the virus seemed to be playing ping-pong with me, never hitting with a magnitude that would knock me off my feet yet making life slightly miserable as I kept going. I took Tuesday as a day to simply rest and commune with my Maker, and by the next day, I felt much improved.

But Thursday dawned with the familiar queasiness and abnormal exhaustion. Today wasn't much better; in fact, now the membranes in my eyes and the back of my nose and throat are stinging.

I'm not telling you all of this to have a pity party or to solicit sympathy. I, who haven't had so much as a Tylenol since Dec. 2000 and who had my last two babies at home with no medicine, am not one to play up sickness or pain. However, I am a firm believer in using hardships to learn lessons and grow stronger.

Yes, it was a bitter blow to have been healthy all winter and then get started on my "living the dream" regime only to suddenly be stricken in such a way that I COULDN'T carry out my grand schemes. I wanted to keep up the exercise routine I had started but literally didn't have the strength. (Hard to walk briskly up and down "hills and hollers" when your legs are shaking just from walking from the living room to the kitchen.)

I wanted to transition more and more to healthy eating, but it's tough to prepare what you need when you don't feel like moving from the couch. It's easier to eat Super Bowl leftovers like sausage balls and party mix. It takes effort to clean and juice organic carrots. It requires strength just to fix your hair, put on some makeup and go on a grocery shopping spree for healthy foods for a pantry that has been inhabited for years by canned ravioli, Vienna sausages and sugary cereals.

But here's what I learned this week: even when you can't PHYSICALLY move toward your dream, you can still MENTALLY keep moving. You can still keep the dream alive by focusing on it mentally, by visualizing where you want to be in a month, six months, a year.

"Dream and give yourself permission to envision a You that you choose to be." (Joy Page)

In other words, you've got to see it to be it. So when life's inevitable blows try to knock you two steps backward, in your mind don't you dare give up. In your mind, don't you dare give in to the thoughts of failure. In your mind, see yourself as the you that you want to be. And when the tide turns (as it always does), then reset your physical motion to match your mental motion.

I remember my little sister loving that old song by Little Eva, "Do the Loco-Motion." I say that we dreamers need to "Do the Mental Motion." Don't focus on the negative, such as "I don't want to be fat and bulky." Focus on the positive, "I want to be slim and flexible." Not "I don't want to get sick," but rather "I want to be healthy and whole."

I've always said that Christianity often misses the mark by being so negative--warning people not to be bad in hopes that fear will motivate change. If we would change the focus to wanting to be good because of our love for the Lord, I believe we would see greater change--change that is lasting.

So let's change our mindsets. Let a setback actually be a slingshot that pulls you back before it propels you forward.

Yep, it was a tough week here over the rainbow. But even Dorothy had to fight the Wicked Witch in Oz. And those flying monkeys? Please. Those things creeped me out.

I may feel set back, but I'm on track. I may feel delayed, but I'm a dreamer on parade. I may feel discouraged, but I will be encouraged. I may think I've been slack, but I'm coming back!

Mental motion is where it's at.

I am healthy, I am whole, I am blessed!

She's got the moves like Jagger

We are spirit, soul and body--three-part beings. One of my dreams involves modeling myself after those who excel in each of these three areas of our being. What's interesting (and rather comical) is that my role models in each sphere are so different and so far removed from each other.

 In spirit, I have but one star at which I stare fixedly--Jesus Christ. He IS the Holy Spirit! (When Jesus spoke of sending the Holy Spirit in John 14:18, He used first person: "I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.")

In soul, I have always longed to be like Miss Melanie Hamilton in "Gone With the Wind." What a beautifully unselfish and kind woman she was--an absolute paragon of virtue with a humility and grace that we all should aspire to. Problem is that I have always been natured more like Scarlett O'Hara as far as being impulsive and high-spirited. Miss Melly was ever-gentle and calm. (Let's hear a collective sigh that that will probably NEVER be me, but hey, a girl can dream, can't she?!)

When it comes to body, prepare to be amazed. I decided tonight as I watched the Super Bowl halftime show that I wouldn't mind looking like Madonna as far as fitness and agelessness. If we were talking about spirit and soul, she would be the lowest of low on my list of whom I would like to model myself after. But when it comes to the fleshly realm--doggone, that woman looks good.

It used to be that a woman in her mid-50s was seen stereotypically as dumpy, old, dressed in grandma's polyester pantsuit with gray hair. (Disclaimer: there's nothing wrong with polyester or gray hair.) But Madonna's chiseled limbs and cut abs would make most 20-year-olds jealous. As she sang with Nicki Minaj who is nearly 25 years younger than her, Madonna was by far the better looking one as far as fitness goes.

Madonna and child

So yes, although I don't care much for Madonna, I wouldn't mind being in that physical shape. Let's face the hard, cruel facts: if I tried to do some of her moves, I'd be bedridden or in traction.

And that Jillian Michaels? She's on my list, too. The woman is 37 and in the shape of a 16-year-old. I wanna go there. Yes, I do.

This is coming from a woman whose calves locked up by the time she walked from the Cove Mart to the old Dodson Hotel on Main Street, Walnut Cove, at the MLK March in January. I literally thought I couldn't make it to the destination not even a mile away. Pure old pride got me there--seeing people decades older than me marching blithely past me, watching women pushing baby strollers trucking it on up the hill as I willed my weak legs to take another step.

This has got to stop. If Madonna can do it, so can I. No, I can't afford a personal trainer, but surely I can walk around the block a few times a week or jump on the mini-tramp daily.

Maybe the buddy system is the answer. I need a buddy. Does anyone have Madonna's number? ;)

Vacation ends Monday!

Vacation was fun, but it's DONE!

As the hubster and I headed back toward North Carolina after a 12-day dream trip out West in September 2011, he sighed deeply and patted his "big white belly," as he is fond of calling it, "Well, vacation ends tomorrow." We had been repeating a variation of this line each time we sat down to a sumptuous meal on our trip. It was our justification to indulge just a few more days, with the "end of vacation" and the push toward a healthier diet looming ever nearer.

Once we were home, there was always an excuse to eat more junk. The hubster would flash me his mischievous look and say, "Well, vacation ends tomorrow." This continued through Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's--you know the drill.

Yesterday, he patted my "side meat," as he likes to call it, and said, "Girl, we gotta get healthy!"

I just looked wryly at him and reminded him, "Sunday is Super Bowl."

He grinned like a possum and declared, "Well, vacation ends Monday!"

Let's face it. There is ALWAYS an excuse to eat junk: somebody's birthday, a baby shower, a holiday, a big sporting event. There will ALWAYS be an excuse to eat junk.

 I have some twisted thought process going on in my brain that I've got to eat that double chocolate birthday cake while I can get it, that I might not get homemade peach ice cream ever again, that Reese's peanut butter cups might be discontinued or something. My family jokes that I, who certainly never lived through the Great Depression, have a "depression mentality." (You know--can't waste anything, have to save everything, better eat good food while I can get it.)

But truth is, if there's not peach ice cream next time, there will be chocolate. If there's no double chocolate cake at the next bridal shower, there will be Dewey's sugar cake or something. For all of my life, there has been good food around for special occasions. If I pass on the lemon pound cake today, you can bet your aunt Annie's alligator there will be lemon pound cake again one day.

 It's not that I'm so worried about losing weight, although I have gained a lot of poundage since tying the knot with Superman. I, who weighed 104 when he met me and 114 when he married me and had often weighed in the 90's even after having four kids, am now up to 126 in my heavy winter clothes. (The hubster weighed 128 when I met him; he's up to about 210 after these idyllic years with me--ha ha!)

But weight is not the primary issue. I am, in fact, more worried about being healthy. I am convinced that Daddy was right--we are what we eat. How can I build good, healthy cells with Heath toffee ice cream, Doritos and Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls? We wonder why our society is suffering with more and more cancer, heart disease, arthritis, etc. Perhaps we should examine the SAD facts--SAD being the Standard American Diet.

Today I sat in the First Baptist Church Fellowship Hall for the family lunch after my great-aunt Lola's funeral. As the luscious meal wound to a close, I looked down at my plate with its mound of creamy banana pudding, a generous slice of chocolate chip cookie cake and the biggest piece of German chocolate pecan pie that I could find at the dessert table.

And I exhaled a resigned sigh, thinking to myself, "Vacation is over in two days." And I was actually glad. Let the healthy eating begin!

Here is a video by a doctor that talks about how she reversed her multiple sclerosis by changing her diet. My dream is to do what she did!

Leaving Kansas. . .

If I don't post any more after this initial greeting, please think of me fondly in days to come and mourn my passing. Tonight before he left for his third-shift job, the hubster begged me to start getting into bed earlier and to curb my new blog fascination, but here it is 1:08 a.m. and lo and behold, I'm starting a brand-new blog. (I hope if he sends me to meet my Maker that he remembers I want fireworks at the funeral.)

I already have a blog at Wordpress.com. (Is the mention of a competitor going to get me into trouble with blogspot.com?) That blog is called "Longing For Him" and is expressly for religious purposes; it's a great outlet for me to pour out my longings for my Lord and Savior. I don't want to clutter that one up with my ramblings about daily struggles and victories en route to "living the dream."

SO. . .looks as if I need a new blog, and here it is! I believe that if you write the vision, you have a better chance of achieving it. I hope to be able to use this site to write my dreams and visions for my future, in faith that this will help me accomplish them.

Superman lives!

My oh-so-hot hubster is encouraging me big-time to focus my energies on my biggest dreams. He was thrilled that I quit my super-stressful news editor's job in Sept. 2011. Now he's saying I should even quit the side jobs if it means I will pour myself into answering the calls that nearly tear out my gut when I am disobedient: the call to minister and help bring revival to my hometown and county, the call to disciple and train up my children in the way they should go, and the call to FINALLY write those many books that are begging for me to write them.

For the 1st time ever, I saw a rainbow form--in CO this past summer!

 So yes, I feel a little bit like Dorothy who left the black-and-white realms of Kansas to plop down in that technicolor world over the rainbow. If Dorothy was right, it's the place where dreams really do come true. I am about to find out! Thanks for joining me on this journey!