After our day yesterday, all I could do was cry. And cry a lot. And then more. And even more still. Today, still more tears. A lot. Out of my control. And then some. They won't stop. And I'm sure for the rest of the week, the tears and sobs will be intermittent.
I woke up yesterday feeling something off. Couldn't quite put my finger on it but I knew this wasn't going to end well. I woke up and felt...next to nothing. Other than dread. Which is never a good feeling at all. I tried to put it out of my brain but I couldn't because I knew. I knew this day wouldn't end well before it even began. I laid in bed hoping the feeling would pass but it didn't.
I knew.
It started with spotting. Which is normal in the first trimester (from what I've read and hear from others). But I knew.
So I did the sensible thing and called the doctors. Because I'm a new mom, and that's what was suggested by the ones I'm closest with. But they didn't call back. Then it got worse.
I knew, in my heart of hearts and in the pit of my stomach, the unshakable feeling that something was off...I didn't feel sick as I had been for the past week. I didn't wake up as tired even though I had slept for 10+ hours.
I asked Zach last night if it was okay if I wrote about this. He's a very caring and understanding person and knows it easier for me to have it all out, rather than have the questions being asked over and over and over again. I'd rather not. Something so personal and taboo to discuss. Something so private it's hard to explain. I'm sure if you've read this far, you also have a pit in your stomach. And that feeling is correct, you know. You know where this is going. It always helps getting my feelings out in the form of written words. If you know me at all, you'll know I have a lot more finesse behind my fingers than I do from my brain to mouth. My filter is practically non existent and although my words usually come out a jumbled mess of adjectives and profanity, I am far more eloquent when it comes to writing. It makes me seem as though I know other words than "fuck". Because eloquence.
I miscarried yesterday.
I'll spare you the details of the mad dash to the store to buy a pregnancy test to pee on...and the change in lines, the downright sobbing and despair that escaped my mouth as I called my mother before I called my husband who was frantically texting, trying to find an answer for the last text I sent. I could utter no words except loud sobs and hyperventilation because I couldn't breathe. She instructed me to call my husband...have him come home. I should have called him first but I had no words. Only wails. Call a friend, don't be alone right now. So I did.
Zach rushed home, my person rushed over from her shift as soon as I called because the guttural sobs could only be mistaken for one thing and one thing alone....the loss of an unborn child. The loss of the baby we've worked so hard for. The one we had just found out about a week ago.
I knew it wasn't going to be easy. I didn't want to tell anyone right away because I felt as soon as I saw those two pink lines, it wasn't going to be easy. Why would it? Nothing else has been. So far, the only thing that has been easy on us is us. Which I am very fortunate and thankful for. We don't have to work to love each other. We don't have to work at our relationship because it's natural for us. There's so much love exploding out that most days I'm so overwhelmed at how lucky I am. How incredible it is to be loved by someone with the capacity to love a full and wholeheartedly as I do.
It's been no secret that we've been struggling to make a baby. I've felt that if I share the struggle, it will make it less so. Less temperature taking, less monitoring my "junk" (I won't get into that because I find it gross and that's just my personal opinion), less "Let's do this now, the window is small", less invasive, less...everything. Just relax, it will happen. Less hearing the doctor tell me we aren't trying hard enough. But it didn't make it less anything. Until a week ago.
And for one whole week, I got to be a mom. Even though there was no tangible evidence. No physical evidence besides the bloating and morning sickness...nothing to tell that there was something growing inside me other than sheer pride and utter exhaustion with a side of vomit in my car (in my lap to be more precise) between showing houses. For one whole week, I got to feel...like my dream had come true. Like I had finally given my husband the only other thing he's wanted except for my love (the cup runneth over in that department). I didn't want to tell everyone because I felt like it shouldn't be so easy. But I did. I wanted to share our excitement. I wanted to finally give us and our family what we've been trying for for over 3 years. And I did. For a week. That's a week more than it's ever been. I celebrate little victories.
You know what? I'm okay. We...are okay. Well...all things considered.
You wanna know why?
Because I know it's possible. Because the rates of carrying a baby to term next time are 75% and after the second miscarriage (Heaven fucking forbid), the rates go up to 95% of carrying a baby to term. I know we can do this and as awful as this sounds, I'm rather relieved it happened so early. I'm relieved because I didn't have more than a week to get attached.
I wanted sooooo badly to be angry as we waited for the ER doctor to come into the room to tell me what I already knew. "Pee in this cup and bring it to the window for testing." I had to write the reason for our visit...miscarriage. I couldn't even spell the word properly. It made me sick to my stomach. I made Zach take my intake paperwork to the window while I walked with shame to the bathroom. My head down, face red, swollen and snotty from crying so hard. I heard the nurses talk about me "Her pregnancy was confirmed, she's here for miscarrying". (The nurse finally called back and told me to go to the ER make sure everything was happening as it should after I informed her of my negative test...all things considered). I sat on the hospital bed and cried...while Zach rubbed my cold feet and wrapped them up in my sweater. We made inappropriate jokes because how else do you deal with the fact you're there to be told you lost your "baby"? Zach wanted to be angry, I wanted to be angry. I wanted to be so mad at the world all I could see was red and red alone. But I couldn't. All I could see was my blurred surroundings from the tears in my eyes. I can't be angry. We can't be angry...because we have one answer. It is possible.
I'm not mad at the world. I'm not jealous I have other pregnant friends. I am so completely elated that these amazing people I've chosen to have in my life are spreading their love and making things from that love (not that I think your babies are things, bear with me...I'm on a controlled substance for the pain so brain isn't working entirely correct, my apologies). Their struggle is not my struggle so I have no room or bearings to judge a situation I am not completely immersed in. I'm the farthest from jealousy and anger that I think I have ever been in my whole life. I feel...sad. Also at peace, but still very sad. And I will allow myself to feel sad....for a short while. Because I deserve it. We deserve it. It has been one hell of a week.
So I'm going to put on my big girl panties and deal with it. Why? Because we have at the very least....ONE answer that's been plaguing us since we started this venture into trying to make a baby...which for those of you that have also fought this same (but different) battle...isn't pretty. Even if it isn't possible naturally...we can share our love through adoption (which we've discussed), fostering (which we have also discussed) or we can drink expensive champagne and travel the world...either way, the world is our oyster and just so long as I have that absolutely incredibly amazing man by my side...I can tackle the world.
With that being said, it's far past my bedtime for the amount of anything.
Xoxo,
Riley Writes
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Are you f*cking kidding me?!!!
Ahhh, the sweet sound of profanity in the Riley Manor.
If you don't know me (which you should because I'm kind of amazing), I am a very sarcastic and foul mouthed little lady with a penchant for good beer and unsavory comments. Somewhere between pig tails with sugar and a pinch of spice, God wasn't reading his recipe for me correctly and added more piss and vinegar than anything else. That's okay though. I like myself alright.
The Almighty also added a dash of laziness for good measure.Which is actually what this post is about. That and the fact that Mr. Riley and I constantly use the phrase "Are you f*cking kidding me?!!!" Usually a fit of giggles ensues and it's usually on my part. We don't do it to be mean or hateful. We're just really sarcastic people living in a home of love, dad jokes and crude humor. Whatever, it works for us. I'm not judging you.
Recently enough, I lost my shoes. I had worn them the day before but couldn't for the life of me, find them. I looked all over the house (kind of) and enlisted the help of my sweet and wonderful husband. He agreed to help because we were getting ready to do a workout and I'm sure he knew that I would find a way to weasel out of it if I couldn't find my shoes. (Not that I don't have a bajillion other pairs I could have worn.)
"Babe, will you help me find my shoes?
"Have you even looked for them? Where was the last place you had them?"
"I checked in the kitchen and the bathroom downstairs...I don't think I checked the bathroom very well though. " (Which is completely ridiculous because it's a tad bigger than an airplane bathroom...nowhere to hide shoes at at all.)
"Why would they be in the bathroom?"
"Because I'm lazy and my thought process is to take them off as soon as I can no matter where I'm at?"
"Did you check upstairs?"
"There's no way I would have worn them all the way up there, I'm too lazy. On second thought though, I'll go check."
"Were they upstairs?"
"I dunno, I didn't see them. But I'm not going to lie...I didn't look really hard either. I kind of just glanced in each room but I definitely didn't see them."
"Rachele...seriously?"
*Zach goes upstairs and I continue to look in places where I would never take my shoes off at. Like the shoe rack. Or the dog room. Behind the couches, you know...stuff like that. Then Zach comes back downstairs to check outside because I have a tendency to take my shoes off in the car then walk into the house barefoot. 7 times out of 10, if I can't find my shoes, they are in my car.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!!!"
"What?! Did you find them? Thank you so much! Where were they at?!"
"Rachele, where's the laziest place you can take your shoes off at?"
"I told you I already checked the bathroom! Wait, did you seriously find them in there? How could I have missed them? The bathroom isn't that big."
"Even lazier than the bathroom? Babe, they have literally been RIGHT by the front door the whole entire time. How could you have missed those?"
"Well I told you I didn't look that hard."
He looked like he wanted to strangle me so naturally I started laughing so hard I cried a bit. I don't know how he remains married to me other than I'm moderately charming and I can cook a bit. I like to keep things exciting.
That's it for this episode of Riley Writes.
Xoxo,
Rachele
If you don't know me (which you should because I'm kind of amazing), I am a very sarcastic and foul mouthed little lady with a penchant for good beer and unsavory comments. Somewhere between pig tails with sugar and a pinch of spice, God wasn't reading his recipe for me correctly and added more piss and vinegar than anything else. That's okay though. I like myself alright.
The Almighty also added a dash of laziness for good measure.Which is actually what this post is about. That and the fact that Mr. Riley and I constantly use the phrase "Are you f*cking kidding me?!!!" Usually a fit of giggles ensues and it's usually on my part. We don't do it to be mean or hateful. We're just really sarcastic people living in a home of love, dad jokes and crude humor. Whatever, it works for us. I'm not judging you.
Recently enough, I lost my shoes. I had worn them the day before but couldn't for the life of me, find them. I looked all over the house (kind of) and enlisted the help of my sweet and wonderful husband. He agreed to help because we were getting ready to do a workout and I'm sure he knew that I would find a way to weasel out of it if I couldn't find my shoes. (Not that I don't have a bajillion other pairs I could have worn.)
"Babe, will you help me find my shoes?
"Have you even looked for them? Where was the last place you had them?"
"I checked in the kitchen and the bathroom downstairs...I don't think I checked the bathroom very well though. " (Which is completely ridiculous because it's a tad bigger than an airplane bathroom...nowhere to hide shoes at at all.)
"Why would they be in the bathroom?"
"Because I'm lazy and my thought process is to take them off as soon as I can no matter where I'm at?"
"Did you check upstairs?"
"There's no way I would have worn them all the way up there, I'm too lazy. On second thought though, I'll go check."
"Were they upstairs?"
"I dunno, I didn't see them. But I'm not going to lie...I didn't look really hard either. I kind of just glanced in each room but I definitely didn't see them."
"Rachele...seriously?"
*Zach goes upstairs and I continue to look in places where I would never take my shoes off at. Like the shoe rack. Or the dog room. Behind the couches, you know...stuff like that. Then Zach comes back downstairs to check outside because I have a tendency to take my shoes off in the car then walk into the house barefoot. 7 times out of 10, if I can't find my shoes, they are in my car.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!!!"
"What?! Did you find them? Thank you so much! Where were they at?!"
"Rachele, where's the laziest place you can take your shoes off at?"
"I told you I already checked the bathroom! Wait, did you seriously find them in there? How could I have missed them? The bathroom isn't that big."
"Even lazier than the bathroom? Babe, they have literally been RIGHT by the front door the whole entire time. How could you have missed those?"
"Well I told you I didn't look that hard."
He looked like he wanted to strangle me so naturally I started laughing so hard I cried a bit. I don't know how he remains married to me other than I'm moderately charming and I can cook a bit. I like to keep things exciting.
That's it for this episode of Riley Writes.
Xoxo,
Rachele
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Oh Hello Again/How To Adopt a Dog
Well hello you cheeky little bastard.
Did you miss me? I've missed you. Unless I saw you not too long ago, in that case, I probably still missed you anyways because I'm needy. So needy and full of love that I'm going to tell you how to adopt a pet in like 15 steps or less (I haven't got to the steps yet and don't have them written out at this juncture so I don't actually know how many steps it takes). Not the actual adoption process but how to decide if getting another dog is right for you.
A back story.
As most of you know if you know me, I'm a bleeding heart for animals. Always have been, always will be. If you're my friend on the book of faces or have been to my house, chances are Luke has most likely stolen your heart. He stole mine from the moment I laid eyes on him in his concrete cell...ahem I mean kennel. Some questions I constantly ask myself, or you may have for me:
Is three dogs a lot? Yes. Do they make me irritated or angry? Absolutely. Is it fun watching Luke fall off the couch because he's the most awkward dog anyone has ever met? You betcha. Do I ever look at my carpets with shame because there's probably another dog's worth of hair on it but I'm tired of vacuuming? Only ever single day of my life. Do I regret any of these things? Not even for a second.
Step 1: Eat champagne for breakfast. With some bacon....everyone loves bacon.
Step 2: Browse the local animal shelter for cute animals because you already have enough.
Step 3: More champagne.
Step 4: Significant other asks if you both should go see a particular dog.
Step 5: Get dressed because you aren't wearing pants because pants and champagne don't mix.
Step 6: Go to shelter, play with dog. Play with the dog that caught your eye on the way in.
Step 7: (This step is critical to adopting another dog when you don't need one) Ask shelter employee about dog's past. (This step is crucial because you're drunk and you have all the feels right now. If you aren't drunk...maybe this step won't mean so much. But if you had a champagne breakfast you should be. And if you aren't...you're not doing something right.)
Step 8: Cry because this dog has never been indoors and is terrified of people from lack of human interaction.
Step 9: Cry and walk out to the car because you don't really have the space or time for one more.
Step 10: (Also another critical step) Have significant other ask "Can you live with yourself if we don't adopt this dog and he gets put down?"
Step 11: Start ugly sobbing because this puppy deserves love as much as the next one does.
Step 12: Get out of the car and proceed to the front desk in the office with your puffy red snotty face and tell admin you would like to adopt a dog.
Step: 13: Pay for the adoption fee and go home to more champagne to cope with the fact that you just added another animal to your already small home and busy life.
Step 14: Pick animal up from vet (because responsible pet parents spay and neuter).
Step 15: Bring puppy home to his new family. And cry a bit because you're overwhelmed with love knowing you just saved an innocent animal from being euthanized. Then give all of them lots of treats because love.
And that's how you adopt a dog.
Xoxo
Riley Writes
P.S. Don't drink and drive. Make the sober one do it. The one who wanted another dog in the first place and asked you while your inhibitions were non existent. :)
Did you miss me? I've missed you. Unless I saw you not too long ago, in that case, I probably still missed you anyways because I'm needy. So needy and full of love that I'm going to tell you how to adopt a pet in like 15 steps or less (I haven't got to the steps yet and don't have them written out at this juncture so I don't actually know how many steps it takes). Not the actual adoption process but how to decide if getting another dog is right for you.
A back story.
As most of you know if you know me, I'm a bleeding heart for animals. Always have been, always will be. If you're my friend on the book of faces or have been to my house, chances are Luke has most likely stolen your heart. He stole mine from the moment I laid eyes on him in his concrete cell...ahem I mean kennel. Some questions I constantly ask myself, or you may have for me:
Is three dogs a lot? Yes. Do they make me irritated or angry? Absolutely. Is it fun watching Luke fall off the couch because he's the most awkward dog anyone has ever met? You betcha. Do I ever look at my carpets with shame because there's probably another dog's worth of hair on it but I'm tired of vacuuming? Only ever single day of my life. Do I regret any of these things? Not even for a second.
Step 1: Eat champagne for breakfast. With some bacon....everyone loves bacon.
Step 2: Browse the local animal shelter for cute animals because you already have enough.
Step 3: More champagne.
Step 4: Significant other asks if you both should go see a particular dog.
Step 5: Get dressed because you aren't wearing pants because pants and champagne don't mix.
Step 6: Go to shelter, play with dog. Play with the dog that caught your eye on the way in.
Step 7: (This step is critical to adopting another dog when you don't need one) Ask shelter employee about dog's past. (This step is crucial because you're drunk and you have all the feels right now. If you aren't drunk...maybe this step won't mean so much. But if you had a champagne breakfast you should be. And if you aren't...you're not doing something right.)
Step 8: Cry because this dog has never been indoors and is terrified of people from lack of human interaction.
Step 9: Cry and walk out to the car because you don't really have the space or time for one more.
Step 10: (Also another critical step) Have significant other ask "Can you live with yourself if we don't adopt this dog and he gets put down?"
Step 11: Start ugly sobbing because this puppy deserves love as much as the next one does.
Step 12: Get out of the car and proceed to the front desk in the office with your puffy red snotty face and tell admin you would like to adopt a dog.
Step: 13: Pay for the adoption fee and go home to more champagne to cope with the fact that you just added another animal to your already small home and busy life.
Step 14: Pick animal up from vet (because responsible pet parents spay and neuter).
Step 15: Bring puppy home to his new family. And cry a bit because you're overwhelmed with love knowing you just saved an innocent animal from being euthanized. Then give all of them lots of treats because love.
And that's how you adopt a dog.
Xoxo
Riley Writes
P.S. Don't drink and drive. Make the sober one do it. The one who wanted another dog in the first place and asked you while your inhibitions were non existent. :)
Monday, January 27, 2014
10 Ways the 21 Day Sugar Detox Changed My Life
Today I celebrated my completion of the 21 Day Sugar Detox. What an amazing and trying three weeks it was. I did my best (okay not entirely), there is always room for improvement. The next go around, I'll be a professional. For a celebratory meal, my partner in crime (who completed the detox with me), decided to go have Chinese food at my favorite restaurant.
Worst. Decision. Ever.
In the book, it details stuff about doing exactly the opposite of what we did. Not carb-loading or eating super processed meals. But of course, I didn't read that far. If you're curious why I didn't, you can look back on previous posts and see that the majority of them all share a common theme...that theme being I'm kind of lazy.
Anyways, after spending the day in sheer and unadulterated agony brought on by the influx of sugar and wheat belly (from copious amounts of soy sauce, noodles and wontons)...I learned a very valuable lesson. I pondered this lesson while trying to figure out why I can't seem to get Supernatural to stream on Netflix; which was the point of my three day hiatus from work and the world...but that's a whole different story altogether. So let's talk turkey. Or learning. I really just like to say "let's talk turkey." Zach doesn't like it as much as I do but it amuses me so he continues to chuckle because it cracks me up...which in turn, he does find amusing. I digress. So seriously, let's get down to business.
10 ways the 21 Day Sugar Detox has changed my life.
1. There is sugar in EVERYTHING. I kind of already knew this because of my foray into a semi paleo/primal lifestyle but when you're having to look at labels to avoid unnecessary sugars, it's mind boggling. Seriously...even bacon is cured with sugar. Try to get around that one!
2. I feel the need to sleep less. I used to sleep 10 to 12 hours before I started my thyroid medicine. I was constantly sluggish and tired all of the time. Once I started the medicine, I went from sleeping 10-12 to 8-10. Still not awesome but I've always been a tired person. It wasn't until eradicating the majority of sugars from my diet, I found my sleep was more restful and I no longer need to sleep 10 hours. Even after working the odd hours that I do.
3. I can taste the sugar in just about everything. Our taste buds are so acclimated to the high amounts of sugar in everything that it's almost like we're immune to the tiniest bits of sweetness. I was adding two heaping spoonfuls to my coffee every single morning. To be perfectly honest, it had to have been over 2 tablespoons which equates to close to 100 calories. If I have learned anything, it's that counting calories shouldn't be an issue, as long as you're eating the right foods that your body needs and processes. Today I put about 1/4 of a teaspoon of agave nectar in my coffee and it was as sweet as could be. I've given my taste buds time to readjust themselves and I am incredibly happy with the results. In fact, I had some not so sugar detox friendly liquor...some tequila, lime and club soda. It tasted like a sweet juice instead of it's normal and bitter tequila-y taste. It blew my mind.
4. I now see how certain foods really make me feel. Do you ever feel kind of bloated after a meal? Like"youneed to unbutton your pants because you ate too much" bloated? That's how I feel after I eat rice and pasta except I'm a rice fiend and usually can't stop myself from overeating it. So since I was running late, I figured I would just order something from work. I ordered the lesser of all the sugar evils and went with a BBQ chicken plate after I grilled the cook (get it, it's a pun) about what was in the marinade for the chicken. The only thing that wasn't detox approved was the white wine, which they were out of so I was in the clear. I was unaware that under the salad portion was rice. I didn't ask because I didn't know. ( I should probably read the menu a tad closer.) After smothering my salad with a nicely portioned dressing made from yogurt and garlic, I began eating. Within about 10 minutes, I felt a uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Upon closer inspection, I noticed there was rice mixed in with the lettuce and since it was the same color as the dressing, I disregarded it. I spent the next hour or so feeling like I had a balloon in my stomach. which brings me to my next bullet.
5. "Failing to plan is planning to fail." Benjamin Franklin This right here is a common theme in the 21 Day Sugar Detox book. I wouldn't have had to eat something I didn't prepare myself had I just planned ahead a tiny bit. Obviously there are life's little surprises that knock us back but by having a whole day or even half of one to prepare is better than none at all. Not a single recipe that I made, upset my stomach. Not one. Which is a big deal considering the older I get, the less tolerant I am of a lot of foods. On the days I did plan ahead, I felt great and often felt like I could take on the world.
6. When you supply your body with nutrient dense foods, you don't need to take as many supplements. I take magnesium to help prevent headaches and to help me sleep at night. It is kind of like a natural muscle relaxer and prevents me from clenching my teeth. I haven't taken it in two weeks...nor have I had a headache that wasn't self inflicted. (Good luck getting a headache prescription for that nasty case of brown bottle flu). I can usually pinpoint my headaches. I get headaches if I don't eat enough, dehydration, not sleeping through the night...a multitude of things. Since I have done the detox, I have had just two headaches. One was from said brown bottle flu (apparently I was bargaining singing/chanting for shots? Or so I'm told. I have no recollection of this.) The other was from definitely not drinking enough water. Easy fix.
7. When I eat better, I crave healthy things. I already kind of knew this one but I like to reiterate that I have 10 boxes of Girl Scout cookies at my house and I wanted dessert after I made dinner. I blended two bananas, cocoa powder, ice cubes and coconut milk. Although I really don't like bananas all that much, it satisfied my sweet tooth and didn't make me feel bad about myself because seriously...who can eat JUST ONE serving of Caramel Delights? Which is two cookies by the way at 130 calories per serving...and there are five in a row. You can't just leave an uneven number in the row...that's supporting communism or something like that. We shouldn't do those things.
8. Knowledge is power. By doing just a bit of research and reading, I was blown away by just how many chemicals and additives are put into foods. Knowing these things helped me make wiser choices about what I was eating, how the sugar effects my bodily processes and how it breaks down and stores when there is an excess being consumed. I lost 10 pounds on this detox simply by eating healthier and continuing weight training. I'm not saying that it will be that way for everyone but you never know until you try.
9. I was in denial. I was definitely in denial about how much crap I consumed. My cheat days were far too often and consisted of whole days instead of singular meals. I was doing great before I went to the states then I blew it all to hell and half assed it when I came back. When you eat copious amounts of sugar, your body craves more sugar and it's basically a vicious cycle.
10. It's so much easier with a partner. Luckily for me, I have an amazing support system and people that tolerate my ideas. So when I decided to do this, my wonderful neighbor/friend said she would do it with me. I wouldn't have been able to do it without her and as she was my support system, I hope to be Zach's support because I am definitely doing this again...and also will not participate in the singing for shots this next time around. For a multitude of reasons. One being that I called Zach and said "I spent a lot of money tonight and I'm going to sleep in the bathtub because I miss you." Better just not to ask questions. I signed up at the Balanced Bites website for daily motivational emails. Not only did the emails have a different motivational poster but it also told me what to expect for the day. I highly recommend it.
All in all, this is something I will continue to do. The way I feel is way too amazing to waste it on going back and eating junk. Moderation is key but unfortunately in a society such as ours where over-consumption is a daily occurrence, it can be difficult.
Hopefully you found this helpful. If you are considering this detox, obviously you have my praises but if you have anymore questions...I highly suggest checking out the Balanced Bites Facebook page and/or Balancedbites.com. There are a whole slew of resources available and great information all over the interwebs.
Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go back to pouting about the whole Supernatural not streaming on Netflix and why I can't have nice things.
Good day!
Xoxo,
Riley Writes.
Worst. Decision. Ever.
In the book, it details stuff about doing exactly the opposite of what we did. Not carb-loading or eating super processed meals. But of course, I didn't read that far. If you're curious why I didn't, you can look back on previous posts and see that the majority of them all share a common theme...that theme being I'm kind of lazy.
Anyways, after spending the day in sheer and unadulterated agony brought on by the influx of sugar and wheat belly (from copious amounts of soy sauce, noodles and wontons)...I learned a very valuable lesson. I pondered this lesson while trying to figure out why I can't seem to get Supernatural to stream on Netflix; which was the point of my three day hiatus from work and the world...but that's a whole different story altogether. So let's talk turkey. Or learning. I really just like to say "let's talk turkey." Zach doesn't like it as much as I do but it amuses me so he continues to chuckle because it cracks me up...which in turn, he does find amusing. I digress. So seriously, let's get down to business.
10 ways the 21 Day Sugar Detox has changed my life.
1. There is sugar in EVERYTHING. I kind of already knew this because of my foray into a semi paleo/primal lifestyle but when you're having to look at labels to avoid unnecessary sugars, it's mind boggling. Seriously...even bacon is cured with sugar. Try to get around that one!
2. I feel the need to sleep less. I used to sleep 10 to 12 hours before I started my thyroid medicine. I was constantly sluggish and tired all of the time. Once I started the medicine, I went from sleeping 10-12 to 8-10. Still not awesome but I've always been a tired person. It wasn't until eradicating the majority of sugars from my diet, I found my sleep was more restful and I no longer need to sleep 10 hours. Even after working the odd hours that I do.
3. I can taste the sugar in just about everything. Our taste buds are so acclimated to the high amounts of sugar in everything that it's almost like we're immune to the tiniest bits of sweetness. I was adding two heaping spoonfuls to my coffee every single morning. To be perfectly honest, it had to have been over 2 tablespoons which equates to close to 100 calories. If I have learned anything, it's that counting calories shouldn't be an issue, as long as you're eating the right foods that your body needs and processes. Today I put about 1/4 of a teaspoon of agave nectar in my coffee and it was as sweet as could be. I've given my taste buds time to readjust themselves and I am incredibly happy with the results. In fact, I had some not so sugar detox friendly liquor...some tequila, lime and club soda. It tasted like a sweet juice instead of it's normal and bitter tequila-y taste. It blew my mind.
4. I now see how certain foods really make me feel. Do you ever feel kind of bloated after a meal? Like"youneed to unbutton your pants because you ate too much" bloated? That's how I feel after I eat rice and pasta except I'm a rice fiend and usually can't stop myself from overeating it. So since I was running late, I figured I would just order something from work. I ordered the lesser of all the sugar evils and went with a BBQ chicken plate after I grilled the cook (get it, it's a pun) about what was in the marinade for the chicken. The only thing that wasn't detox approved was the white wine, which they were out of so I was in the clear. I was unaware that under the salad portion was rice. I didn't ask because I didn't know. ( I should probably read the menu a tad closer.) After smothering my salad with a nicely portioned dressing made from yogurt and garlic, I began eating. Within about 10 minutes, I felt a uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Upon closer inspection, I noticed there was rice mixed in with the lettuce and since it was the same color as the dressing, I disregarded it. I spent the next hour or so feeling like I had a balloon in my stomach. which brings me to my next bullet.
5. "Failing to plan is planning to fail." Benjamin Franklin This right here is a common theme in the 21 Day Sugar Detox book. I wouldn't have had to eat something I didn't prepare myself had I just planned ahead a tiny bit. Obviously there are life's little surprises that knock us back but by having a whole day or even half of one to prepare is better than none at all. Not a single recipe that I made, upset my stomach. Not one. Which is a big deal considering the older I get, the less tolerant I am of a lot of foods. On the days I did plan ahead, I felt great and often felt like I could take on the world.
6. When you supply your body with nutrient dense foods, you don't need to take as many supplements. I take magnesium to help prevent headaches and to help me sleep at night. It is kind of like a natural muscle relaxer and prevents me from clenching my teeth. I haven't taken it in two weeks...nor have I had a headache that wasn't self inflicted. (Good luck getting a headache prescription for that nasty case of brown bottle flu). I can usually pinpoint my headaches. I get headaches if I don't eat enough, dehydration, not sleeping through the night...a multitude of things. Since I have done the detox, I have had just two headaches. One was from said brown bottle flu (apparently I was bargaining singing/chanting for shots? Or so I'm told. I have no recollection of this.) The other was from definitely not drinking enough water. Easy fix.
7. When I eat better, I crave healthy things. I already kind of knew this one but I like to reiterate that I have 10 boxes of Girl Scout cookies at my house and I wanted dessert after I made dinner. I blended two bananas, cocoa powder, ice cubes and coconut milk. Although I really don't like bananas all that much, it satisfied my sweet tooth and didn't make me feel bad about myself because seriously...who can eat JUST ONE serving of Caramel Delights? Which is two cookies by the way at 130 calories per serving...and there are five in a row. You can't just leave an uneven number in the row...that's supporting communism or something like that. We shouldn't do those things.
8. Knowledge is power. By doing just a bit of research and reading, I was blown away by just how many chemicals and additives are put into foods. Knowing these things helped me make wiser choices about what I was eating, how the sugar effects my bodily processes and how it breaks down and stores when there is an excess being consumed. I lost 10 pounds on this detox simply by eating healthier and continuing weight training. I'm not saying that it will be that way for everyone but you never know until you try.
9. I was in denial. I was definitely in denial about how much crap I consumed. My cheat days were far too often and consisted of whole days instead of singular meals. I was doing great before I went to the states then I blew it all to hell and half assed it when I came back. When you eat copious amounts of sugar, your body craves more sugar and it's basically a vicious cycle.
10. It's so much easier with a partner. Luckily for me, I have an amazing support system and people that tolerate my ideas. So when I decided to do this, my wonderful neighbor/friend said she would do it with me. I wouldn't have been able to do it without her and as she was my support system, I hope to be Zach's support because I am definitely doing this again...and also will not participate in the singing for shots this next time around. For a multitude of reasons. One being that I called Zach and said "I spent a lot of money tonight and I'm going to sleep in the bathtub because I miss you." Better just not to ask questions. I signed up at the Balanced Bites website for daily motivational emails. Not only did the emails have a different motivational poster but it also told me what to expect for the day. I highly recommend it.
All in all, this is something I will continue to do. The way I feel is way too amazing to waste it on going back and eating junk. Moderation is key but unfortunately in a society such as ours where over-consumption is a daily occurrence, it can be difficult.
Hopefully you found this helpful. If you are considering this detox, obviously you have my praises but if you have anymore questions...I highly suggest checking out the Balanced Bites Facebook page and/or Balancedbites.com. There are a whole slew of resources available and great information all over the interwebs.
Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go back to pouting about the whole Supernatural not streaming on Netflix and why I can't have nice things.
Good day!
Xoxo,
Riley Writes.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Fugitive at large...or at least one that checks her mail.
I was planning on writing this latest post about how I have had a interesting time "wife-ing" while Zach is gone. For instance, even if the trash isn't full, sometimes it's best to take it out anyways because you probably threw something in there that was raw (absentmindedly) and now your whole house smells like a garbage bin. And if you still can't figure out how to work the weed eater, getting your neighbor to start it for you will not automatically eradicate your inability to actually use it. Also, if you continually hit things with the lawn mower guard, you're going to break it off completely again...even though your husband fixes it after every time you mow.
That's what this post was going to be about...until I checked the mail tonight.
On my drive home from work, I had a massive internal debate on whether I should stop and grab a bottle of wine. I'm close to being done with my sugar detox so I figured since I didn't go the rest of the time without indulging, maybe I should now. Heck, I can go a few days without a nice vintage bottle of Wild Vines. (Just kidding, I don't drink that crap.)
In my head, it went something like this: "If you stop by the shoppette, you won't get the mail and you haven't checked the mail in like a week. Or have you? What day is it? Your shirts will be in soon so you should check. But will one glass of wine really throw off your detox? And by glass you mean bottle. You're not fooling anyone Rachele Riley, you'll drink the whole damn thing and complain about how awful you feel tomorrow. Just stop being lazy and check the damn mail. See, you've already passed the shoppette. No turning back now, because you're lazy."
Ugh, I suppose I'll go check the mail.
So I pull up and use the side door that is always unlocked. Which is what I always do when I check the mail at this time of night. I noticed my box was rather stuffed with things for me (mostly credit card stuff 'Hey, pay 30 dollars and we will increase your credit limit for a limited time only, but like for the past year because we like that we make so much money from you!'). So since I am not on any sort of time crunch, I walk down the stairs and make sure the door is shut. You know, the usual.
Get in my car, rip open a letter addressed to me and it feels like there's a card in there.
"Dear Member,
We've been made aware that your card has been compromised....ect. No one has stole your shit yet which is good but as a preliminary measure, here's a new card...."
Awesome. I just so happen to glance out of the window and notice a military police car is blocking the entrance to the post office.
"That's odd...but then again, I am here later than most people. It's whatever, I've definitely checked it waaaaay later than this."
So I pull out of my parking spot and exit. While I was waiting to pull out, I noticed another security forces/military police car barreling towards me head on with their lights flashing. So I stop and roll down my window and wait for them to get in their own lane. Awesome. I'm getting arrested for checking my mail. I knew I should have just picked up a bottle of wine.
"Ma'am...did you just come from the post office?"
"I did, I was checking my mail."
"Ma'am we are going to need you to turn around and go back to the post office. Park your car and wait please."
"What is this about? The door was unlocked so I went in and checked my mail? That's it."
"Ma'am the post office alarm has been set off. We aren't saying it was you but it has been compromised. Please turn around and park your car."
I go back and park my car and I'm waiting to be approached when I hear a voice over the loudspeaker:
"To the owner of the vehicle, please step out and away from your car."
Are you fucking kidding me?
So I shout back "Well what do you want me to do? Just stand here or head to you?"
Loudspeaker again. "Ma'am, if you could come towards me and step away from your car."
Holy fuck, I'm getting arrested for checking my mail. Approaching the cop car and all I can think is "Only me...this kind of shit only happens to me."
"All I did was check my mail! The door was unlocked! Am I in trouble? I knew I should have gotten wine. What in the hell is going on? I'm not trying to be an obnoxious asshole but seriously...what is happening?"
"Ma'am, do you have your id on you? We need to keep you in our custody until we clear the area. Apparently the silent alarm was triggered. We're not saying it was you but we need to keep you here just to be sure."
"Great, you're going to arrest me for checking my mail. My id is in the car, may I go get it and turn my car off?"
I walk back over to my car and notice them scoping out the perimeter. Of course it has been raining so the concrete is wet but I sit anyways because I have a feeling I'm going to be here for a while.
"Ma'am, did you touch anything besides your mailbox?"
"You mean like the door to get in? Because it's unlocked. No, I didn't touch anything else. What else is there to touch? Jesus, I knew I should have just got the wine. Ya'll are going to arrest me and I'm going to just tell my husband I was being drunk and disorderly to the gate guards because that's easier to believe than me getting in trouble for checking the mail."
"Ma'am, you're not in any trouble just so long as you didn't do anything. That door is unlocked so people can check their mail."
"So it's unlocked but it may trigger an alarm. Wonderful. Are y'all going to go through my car? Because there is nothing in there except for my mail...from my mailbox number 123464."
I hear him talking to the other police about my "story" and how I gave him my mailbox number. Then I acquired an onlooker.
"What's going on here? Can I go check my mail?"
"No sir, not at this moment. We are pending an investigation."
"Yep, and I'm being investigated for checking my mail. Be careful, you might set off an alarm and end up here sitting next to me."
"Ma'am, sometimes the alarm just goes off. We need to wait for the custodian to get here so it can be shut off and if your story checks out, you can go."
"Can't you just watch the security footage. I literally just got off of work, haven't checked the mail in a few days and I'm waiting for a package."
After about 15 more minutes, I was "released" and was told to go home. I chit chatted with the police officer who was very nice despite my sarcasm. I thanked him for being nice and went on my merry little way home...still laughing because like I said, this stuff only happens to me. Apparently this sort of thing happens on the regular, even during working hours. Charming...right?
"Sorry ma'am. It appears you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Yeah well lesson learned. The answer is if you ever have to debate about doing anything, just get wine instead."
Xoxo
Riley Writes
Monday, January 13, 2014
That time I cried about Chinese Food.
This goes along with this whole other "I don't understand women" spiel. I happen to be one of them but most of the time, I'm as equally confused as men about what's going on with me or why I'm feeling the way I do, whenever I feel it. Especially around "that time". This is a story about "that time" and that I'm craving Chinese food, which I cannot have because I am on day 8 of this 21 day sugar detox which is going rather well I think.
So I really really love Chinese food. In fact, most days, I'm convinced I should have been Asian or some sort of ethnicity where someone doesn't look at you like you have an extra set of ears growing off your head, when you mention that fried rice/rice in general should be allowed for breakfast. For other cultures, it's perfectly normal. In the states, I can't think of many places that serve you fried rice with an egg on it for breakfast (which is one of my most favorite things in the world). I could eat that every single day if I could. Which I can't because it kind of hurts my stomach...because I eat a lot of it. Seriously. I'll put away a whole family sized plate of fried rice. I love it and you can't tell me any different.
I always crave Chinese food. Always. It's never far from my mind. A while back ago, Zach and I were lifting weights together and I noticed a familiar craving. (Are you thinking Chinese food? How did you guess?) We also get really hangry in this house. No one more than me. It's science or something.
"Babe, I'm really hungry, like bad."
"Okay well we will get something to eat after we finish our sets. I'm going to need your help on this last one, it's really heavy."
At this point, I start daydreaming about beef fried noodles and chicken wontons with duck sauce when I hear Zach start gurgling and I realize he needs my assistance. So I quickly snap out of it and help him lift the weight.
"Rach, were you even paying attention?"
"Not really, I was just thinking about Chinese food. I'm really hungry."
"Baby, I know. We will get food as soon as we finish working out."
"Are you going to take a break really quickly so I can go inside and get some water?"
"Go for it. I need a minute to recover."
I meander inside and all of the sudden, I'm angry. I'm so angry that I kind of start throwing things around while I'm getting my water...muttering to myself, strewing profanities out in space. Why was I angry, you ask? I don't know. It just kind of happened.
I go back outside and I'm watching Zach do his second set and in another instant, my eyes start welling up with tears. I can't help it. It's uncontrollable. I start sniffling because I feel an ugly cry coming on. Like Kim Kardashian ugly cry.
"Babe, are we almost done with this?"
"Rach, I told you as soon as we finish this and I still have deadlifts to do. It'll be a bit longer."
*Sniffly* "Okay.."
"Baby, oh my god, are you...are you crying right now?"
*Commence ugly cry* "I'm...I'm...I'm just really reallllly hungry. I want Chinese food so bad and I don't know why I'm crying. I'm sorry. *more sniffles* Baby, I just really want some Chinese food. I really don't know why I'm crying. What's wrong with me? I'm so hungry."
"Okay, okay. Let me put the weights away and we will go. Are you okay? I love you."
Then he was all sweet and kissed me on the forehead because it takes a special kind of man to love that kind of crazy. But also he was getting a good laugh at my expense so I believe that deserves a forehead kiss.
We finally make it to Magnolia (my favorite place to eat) and I order beef friend noodle, chicken wontons (to share kind of) and fried rice. Mind you, all this food is technically "family style" so you get a big plate to portion out to your family. Or a big plate of yummy noodle-y goodness that you don't feel like sharing because 20 minutes prior you were crying about it.
I don't think I have ever eaten so fast in my life. I ate every last noodle on that plate as Zach stared in amazement.
"Babe, would you like a to-go box for the plate or are you going to eat that here too?"
"I will punch you in the face."
On the way home, I realized eating all of that food was a giant mistake and I probably shouldn't have eaten with such speed in the first place. So I promptly took a nap upon my return home...and woke up hungry again.
And that's why I cried over Chinese food. Confused? Join the club.
______________________________________________________________
Pardon the mess of the blog. I'm trying to find a new layout but because I'm not a computer/internet whiz, I messed up some html and the comment pages are a bunch of letters and numbers. If you happen to know anyone who would be willing to help me out in this deparetment, let me know. I'll pay in coconuts and dollar bills. Those "fancy" blogger layouts just aren't doing it for me anymore. Me trying to do anything technically is like a monkey trying to copulate with a football. It just isn't going to happen.
Xoxo
Riley Writes
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Someone explain this to me, because I'm just not getting it.
Women confuse me and I happen to be one of them. There is one thing that drives me absolutely and utterly bonkers. If you do this, I automatically dislike you. There is absolutely no excuse in the world that makes this okay unless you're a toddler and even then, you're supposed to teach your toddler otherwise. When I see this, I automatically wonder how it happens. In fact, I have a hard time fathoming why it happens multiple times a day all over the world.
As a bartender, I have had my days where I've needed to clean bathrooms. All the nasty stuff. I can handle that. But after needing to pee for about two hours but being so busy that when I finally make it into the bathroom...the last thing I want to see and/or do is wipe up someone else's melted yellow snow. And it NEVER seems to be a little. It's like not a single drop made it into the actual bowl itself. Most of the time, I'm not grossed out (okay, I am and you can usually hear my profanities from a mile away) but mostly, I'm wondering what kind of dexterity it takes to get piss all the way around the toilet seat. Like even in the back where normal peoples' butts sit. Do you do handstands while you're peeing? Or stand on one leg and rub your tummy while simultaneously balancing on the commode. How do you do it? I know when I sit my happy ass down, there is no way I pee so hard that it splashes up under my butt. Do you pee so hard it's kind of like a rocket, propelling you up?
As a bartender, I have had my days where I've needed to clean bathrooms. All the nasty stuff. I can handle that. But after needing to pee for about two hours but being so busy that when I finally make it into the bathroom...the last thing I want to see and/or do is wipe up someone else's melted yellow snow. And it NEVER seems to be a little. It's like not a single drop made it into the actual bowl itself. Most of the time, I'm not grossed out (okay, I am and you can usually hear my profanities from a mile away) but mostly, I'm wondering what kind of dexterity it takes to get piss all the way around the toilet seat. Like even in the back where normal peoples' butts sit. Do you do handstands while you're peeing? Or stand on one leg and rub your tummy while simultaneously balancing on the commode. How do you do it? I know when I sit my happy ass down, there is no way I pee so hard that it splashes up under my butt. Do you pee so hard it's kind of like a rocket, propelling you up?
This is what I picture most nights. Except its a drunk female wearing high heels and giggling while her friend's hold her up. Does that really happen? I don't know. I do my business like a normal drunk girl after a night of being rowdy; with my head between my knees, huffing and puffing because more than likely, the bathroom is spinning like a teacup ride at Disneyland. It's kind of like a roller coaster. Keep your arms and legs inside the moving vehicle at all times until the ride has come to a complete stop.
Or is it more like this?
I believe this is called the "Reverse Cowgirl" and it's to prevent you from falling in according to William Shakespeare. This is also the other thing I picture drunk women doing. Is this how this happens? Someone please explain. I've seen men's rooms with less pee on the floor and seat. Or maybe men know that if you dribble, you should clean it up.
Anyways...so that's that rant for the day. I guess it's better than being solicited for sex. Or agreeing to hang out with a bunch of Japanese bachelor tourists because you say "Yes" without actually understanding what you're agreeing to.
Xoxo,
Riley Writes.
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