Why Women Need Fat…

I have been compensated for this review and the opinions reflected in this post are my own and do not, in any way, represent Blogher… 
I am not one of those girls who enjoys sitting around and reading health books. In fact, when I fully realized exactly what type of book I had chosen to take on for the Blogher book club, I internally cringed just a bit. That was, until I cracked the pages of Why Women Need Fat by co-authors M.D. William D. Lassek and Stephen Gaulin. From that point on, I was hooked. Why Women Need Fat‘s authors take the time, (sometimes it may seem like a little bit too much time for me) to really break down why women store fat differently, seem unable to lose fat as rapidly as men and how we went from a butter and lard using nation of fairly fit people to the most obese nation in the world, in less than a hundred years… Informative, and written in easy to understand terms, Why Women Need Fat is really is a book for anyone who wants to get a better grasp on our food situation and weight crisis. 
I found myself, more often than not, reading from this books pages to anyone who would listen. While quite a bit of the information shared was stuff I already knew, at least to some degree, I still felt like I learned with nearly every turn of the page. The very second that I turned the last page and closed the cover, my 12 year old and I were pouring through our fridge and cupboards. To say that the content in this book truly affected our family’s life would be an understatement. 
One section, early on, addresses why girls tend to have fatter butt, thighs, and hips than boys. Somehow, rooting from what I don’t know, my youngest decided when she was around 10 years old that she had severely thunderous thighs. (she does not, by any means.) It has been her insecurity for the better part of two years, giving her an actual loathing for this part of her body. When I got to this section in the book, I called her over and we read the reasoning. For the first time, ever, I saw this freedom seep over her as she realized that this wasn’t some huge fault she had- but that it was simply a design for her that served an actual purpose. This blessed me ridiculously. 
From my own perspective, I too found encouragement and peace with myself. We are programmed, not only as Americans, but as women, to strive for skinny and consume only the low fat. With low fat and light food sales being at an all time high, shouldn’t the weight of our country not also be at an all time high? Obviously we’re missing something… This book has the key. I’ve talked about this before, but after I had my hysterectomy in 2000, my weight shot up fast. In the 12 years, since then, I have had multiple nutritionists and physicians reaffirm that I will never lose a significant amount of weight due to my natural hormone levels and more significantly, the shock that my body went through when it was instantly plummeted into menopause at 24 years of age. While I have always believed there had to be a way, the information in this book reaffirmed to me that getting my body to the place of eating as it should- when it should- (and NOT how a government or bazillion dollar industry would tell me to) was more important than anything. From that point, my body will slowly regulate to be however it should be. Is that heavier? Maybe. But it doesn’t matter… 
I whole heartedly recommend this book… (and actually, already have, to multiple people) It stresses the importance of WHOLE, REAL food and then goes on to back up WHY. My only complaint, if I had to have one, would be that it gets a bit repetitive… It didn’t really bother me though, because repetition is how we remember and I deeply need to remember everything I learned…
This was the PERFECT book for my year of Health! 
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Sugar Sugar…

I don’t know why I’ve spent the great part of this year, {ha ha ha} using cheesy song titles of bad references to head my blog. I want to be sorry, but truthfully whenever I see that empty title line- these are the only things that come to mind… 
anyway, moving on. 
In December my best friend was diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes. Dealing with debilitating migraines for the whole of her life, and a strange iron issue which left her nearly fighting for her life a couple of years back, this was a major shock. My biological father is a diabetic so this is something I keep a close eye on. My glucose levels remain fine, as do cholesterol and everything else, but I knew this was going to mean some big changes for her and I promised to journey along side her as she changed her life. 
Life has a funny sense of humor though, because unbeknownst to me- a week later Chw was routinely tested for insurance purposes at work and is borderline Type 2. 
So, now I’ve got no choice… 
Any tips? 
We eat pretty healthy already… Chw has a major sweet tooth though and loves things like TJ’s JOJOs, oreos, and girl scout cookies… He has been known to spend more evenings than not with a bowl of them and a glass of ice cold milk… 
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and…

It’s a lot- this idea of homeschooling again while working from home… And striving for health… and… and… and. 
AND! 
I am overwhelmed, folks… 
There is A LOT going on right now, in our lives… It’s a good time, for sure, to have Genny back home. We kicked off our “semester” yesterday, trying out a new co-op. It was WAY different than the other two we’ve done, but not bad. Just different. 
I open my blog and the curser just flashes at me. I have no idea what to say, or how to respond to it’s demanding my attention NOW. 
I don’t know what to say. 
I am unsure of the future, but then again, who isn’t? 
I am nervous about taking this on… but then again who wouldn’t be? 
I feel overwhelmed… 
AND? 
Exactly… 
So, deep breaths are happening here. Stressing less than I would have imagined- but mind consumed all the same. Some time ago my friend passed this site on to me, and I am planning to utilize it to the hilt, when I have a minute… In the meantime- here is me… 
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Smooth criminal…

This will be but a distant memory, any day now, but at 12:12 a.m., on January 1st, 2012, Chw shaved off his goatee. Back, way forever ago in the mid 90’s, my husband would shave it off and everyone would remark about what a 12 year old he looked like. For a two-fold set of reasons, he stopped shaving it off- (1}he liked the goatee, and 2}he didn’t want to look like a 12 year old) until this past Sunday morning. 
Suffice it to say, that’s a long time to go without shaving. Though kissing smoothness was sort of nice- (and weird because, well, it’s been almost 20 years of kissing facial hair) It was pretty much unanimous that the goatee must return. Even Lucas, over skype, was not impressed with Chw’s sudden smoothness… 
and for the record, he looked older than 37, which he was NOT expecting… 
Genny was the most taken aback by it though… repulsed, one could say… {in her defense, she did spend the day immediately following this moment, throwing up. She rang in the new year with the tummy flu.}

Pretty funny, right? :)
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A milli vanilli world…

I apologize about the ugliness and depth that the direction of this post will take. There is just something that has been tumbling about, in my brain, and finally i got to the point where I knew I had to let it out… 
Do you ever realize how many times rape, child abuse and molestation come up in the news? I truthfully never did until I found myself living back at home, as an adult, and watching the news with my very own child rapist step dad and my mom- who protected him. Now, of course, I am still hypersensitive about it and therefore don’t watch the news. It is horribly sad and tragic- the paths people take, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t care if I choose not to give the media my attention. Even so though, sometimes a friend will post the link to a story on Facebook and i’ll find out about things that way. That was how i learned of this story. {If you do not want to click over and read it, I will summarize. Man arrested due to the RAPE and murder of a 1 month old baby girl.} 
This story happened in NM, where I’m from. This story is sickening and disgusting and in no way would i EVER compare what happened to that beautiful little baby- as to what i went through as a child. This story made me authentically ill. There are no words. So, when my mom called me and the story came up- that awkward elephant from our past crept into the conversation…
My stepdad left my mom around 2002, 2003. It broke her heart and she became suicidal. As time passed though, she got a little better. She began to see herself (or says she did) as better off without him. In 2006 she finally admitted to me that she knew I was telling the truth about his abuse. (I had reported him the first time in 1988 when I was 12 years old.) Those 4 minutes when my mom gave me the validation i had waited so long for, were the most freeing and healing 4 minutes of my life. Immediately following those four minutes though, my mom proceeded to tell me that it wasn’t her fault she didn’t realize it before- she had been molested as a young girl. She also went on to tell me she hadn’t known and had she of known what he was doing, she would have sent him to jail. 
Turns out, she was molested. The rest though, were lies of course. 
She had known. Every inch of what happened, spanning a near 10 years, happened under her nose. Everyone knew about it. A near entire town knew what was happening, but no one knew what to do. It was that shady time when certain things were better off behind closed doors. My family made the decision to send me away and sweep the whole mess under the rug- rather confront the scandal and shame of it. My mother was given the opportunity by the state of NM to choose. She chose him. For the rest of my adolescence she was given the same opportunity repetitively- and she always chose him. At least until he no longer chose her- then her song changed. She blames him for everything. Blames not knowing. Blame. Blame. Blame. 
It is a sick sport, this casting blame. Sure, there was blame to be had by him more than anyone else, but she has significant responsibility too. 
Whenever it comes up with her, which is far more than I’d like, it is all about her. With the story of this baby, she went from outrage to who could do something like that? From that point she moved on to anyone who does anything to a child, 1 month to 12 years old, should be taken out and have their penis cut off. Of course, this is where I attempted to steer the conversation in another route. Before long she was telling me that, had she of known what he was doing… blah blah blah… 
The thing is, it doesn’t matter. While I don’t like hearing her pretend she knew nothing because I was there too and i know that’s not the truth- the reality is it truly doesn’t matter. it was a long time ago. I’ve not only gone through healing and therapy, but I am able to acknowledge that I am a better person for what I went through. I am also able to understand things about my youngest, that stem from her sexual abuse before being placed with us. I am grateful for that. I don’t walk around on some Victim of Rape crutch, but my mom kind of does. She’s a victim in what happened to her as a child, which led her to poor men choices and placed her in the position where she literally had to trade her own child- by turning a blind eye- for security and the closest thing she believed she deserved- to true love. When that went south, she plays the victim to that too. She lost… She lost… he hurt her… he hurt her daughter… blah blah blah. 
I am sorry she went through anything she did. I really am. I love my mom and I find it sad. I have long since forgiven her and her responsibility. I’ve moved past it- but she hasn’t because she just can’t accept the truth of it. 
I guess I have just grown really sick and tired of a world where no one accepts responsibility for things. Likely this man, in jail, denies his actions. (i don’t know whether he does or not.) My 12 year old lies and steals like she doesn’t know any better but it’s never her fault. My sister constantly puts herself above every one/thing in her life and never stops to think, and then winds up in the same positions and cries about how life is so hard to her and why does God let these things happen… 
Why can’t we own up to what we do? 
Why do the Casey Anthony’s of the world walk away? How? How do they? 
Maybe it’s what i’ve seen with my mom and the blame game, but I can’t imagine letting another person take the blame for some hurt that I caused. 
I just don’t get it. 
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