A Weighty Smattering

Heya!  What be up?

Hope everyone had a great weekend - mine was low-key - but fine.  We went out to the lot on Saturday and explored the house, and then Sunday I had to teach my dreaded sunday school lesson.  I was moaning and groaning and hemming and hawing about it all weekend.  I whine when it's my turn to teach!  If I was teaching kids, it'd be so much easier, because they don't seem so judgemental, (at least the leeeettle kids) but teaching adults, man - the epitome of SCARY.  They were all really nice though, and a few even came up to me afterward and told me how good a job I'd done, so I suppose it can't have been that awful.  If anyone wants to learn more about King Benjamin's sermon to his people in Mosiah, and if you'd like a "mighty change of heart," then I am your gal!  ;)

Photo - Whit snapped this pic of cade, playing with his new Thor hammer.

Today has been alright.  I saw the T this afternoon, and that was swellsies.  We talked about a smattering of things, and it was all very nice.  Heh.  SMATTERING.  Me likey that wordy!  ...She made an interesting comment about my body though...one I'm still scratching my head on..
So she said that last week, when I was walking out of her office and through the waiting room, her next patient waiting to see her watched me go.  And when this patient came into her office, she said something along the lines of, "I don't have to gain weight, but man, that girl sure does!"

And I'm like...
I BEG TO DIFFER?
Scratching my head, here. 
So confused.

I know I don't need to gain weight.  I'm not underweight - AT ALL.  I know that I am definitely not at a point where I need to lose any more weight or anything, and all of the post-baby weight has definitely come off, but I guess I just get stuck comparing my body to how it used to be, and it's xx lbs away from scary-skinny Brie, and I feel like I look so BIG all the time, so to have someone look at me and think I'm really skinny and need to gain weight is just WEIRD.  Seriously, there's no other word for it - just plain 'ol WEIRDNESS.  And also, I kind of want to guffaw.  Or even throw my head back and scream with laughter.  But maybe that's just the immature part of me.  :/

On one hand it's nice to hear that other people think you are thin, and not some giant whale, but the majority of my thoughts tend to lie in the realm of being stressed out that someone thinks I'm too thin, because I really don't think I am, and I'm eating a ton of  food to prove that I am recovering from the ED.  And you know what?  I no longer WANT to be seen as "too thin."  I don't want to portray that image anymore.  I'm over it.

And I really don't want to get too caught up in what other people think - so I guess I should just stay strong in the fact that I know that I'm doing well, and I know that I'm eating, and what other people are going to think about me is up to them, and it shouldn't matter to me.  But...

I know I'm in a zone though where I need to be careful, as losing any weight at this point wouldn't be okay, so I really need to take what she told me seriously, and not scoff and brush it off, because if other people are viewing me as too thin, (even if it's like 1 in 100) then I'm probably at the point where I need to be cautious and make sure I'm getting in every bite of my mealplan, just to make sure I don't lose anything.  And I will!

Photo - Mila being too cute while getting messy, eating yummy Oreos.

Has anyone else ever encountered something like this?  Or any ideas/thoughts on how to handle something like this?

But man - just weird to have someone so completely throw a wrench in the whole way you think and view your body.  I haven't had anyone tell me I'm too thin in a looooooonnnnnnnnnggggggg time, so it really kind of threw me for a loop.  I guess I'm still kind of trying to process it.

In other news, I just had a nasty flavor of Hot Pocket.  Don't get the pizza flavor with sausage!  Eewies!  However, I'm now murdering several peanut butter Oreos, and those are going down muuuucccch nicer.  :)  I always default to Hot Pockets for lunch (with a few sides) when I'm feeling lazy and/or cheap for lunch.  But man, that was a giant bucket o' yuck.  :(  Eating gross food sucks, which is still a nice transition from when my stance used to be eating ANY food sucks.  This is at least a step in the right direction, and I've decided that eating disorder or no, eating sausage just might be against my, like, VALUES.  Or maybe just frozen sausage.  I don't know.

Okay, this smattering is officially over.  Bye!

New House Adventure Week 9

So much happened this week!  I left you with this:

And then we got to this:  (Pouring the cement)

And then here:

And now this!

The cement has been poured!  We went out to the lot yesterday and snapped some pics of our "first time" being in the basement.

Cade was a little scared to jump through the window, but there were no doors, so we had no choice - he ended up being a brave boy though, and got through just fine.  :)

I snapped a picture of this house because this is darn close to what our house is going to look like.  This is the same home we're buying, only ours will look different, in that we have a third car garage added on.  But the colors - the blue and the cream trim and the rocks...all what our house will look like!  I like it.  :)



I Can't Believe I'm Showing You This

My passport picture.
We need to talk about this.
It is bad.
REALLY
bad.

It was taken several years ago...like literally SEVEN years ago, and I remember I left inpatient treatment for the day on a special pass to get the pic taken and the forms filled out for my passport, as I was leaving for Brazil in a couple of months, and it needed to get done ASAP.

Did I mention that in this photo, I weigh more than I EVER have, aside from when I was pregnant?  That El Treatment Centerio decided to get me to the mid to high end of my range, and that's okay, but it's just higher than I've ever been, and mega scary?  And did I also mention that I wasn't sure what was kosher when you took a passport picture, and I didn't think it was okay to smile, that somehow looking like a serial killer was better?  And did I mention that I was probably just having an off, really un-photogenic day?

No?

You mean you still think I look like a terrorist, that's going to get on the plane and bomb everybody?
Seriously, if I ever look like this again, with that evil look and those pursed lips, it literally does mean I'm about to kill you, or somebody.  Holy hell, I'm not even sure I can replicate that Look of Death, nor do I want to!

I'm not a terrorist.  I'm not a gangster, pulling some scary initiation rite to get into the gang.  I'm just an un-photogenic gal, trying to get to Mexico.  Do you think they'll even let me on the plane?!

...And yes.  Apparently my 1000th post is going to be about my ugly passport picture.  Dang!  I've been planning on doing something cool for my 1000th, and I post an ugly picture of me instead?  AAaahhhhh I suck!  Well, happy 1000 everybody!  Here's to 1000 more.  :)

I'm a Purist

when it comes to Diet Coke.

I'm serious.

I like it pure, on it's own, right out of a can, just like God intended it to be.  (God gifted us Diet Coke because He loves us, along with mustard, lip gloss, and TOMS).

And, I'm kind of a snot about it.

If you dilute your Diet Coke with a lemon or lime wedge, or maybe ask for a dash of vanilla...
...I turn my nose up at you, because you are tainting the sanctity of the Almighty DC.

If you want it out of the fountain, even if you have a choice to drink it out of the can, where it is at its maximum fizzy ability, so that the burn factor as it goes down your throat is at it's highest, I scoff.

I scoff at you.  For wanting the diluted, weak, and pathetic pseudo-version that can barely even pass for Diet Coke.

If you want it over ice, or even if you drink Coke Zero, or WORSE - Diet Cherry Coke, or Diet Vanilla Coke, then it's just plain sacrilege, and we can't be friends anymore.

And if you drink Diet Pepsi?
Then you are going to Hell.  :)

Photo - this picture is great, on so many levels.  I can't tell which I love more - the beautiful centerpiece of this picture, and the subject of this post - DIET COKE - or if I love the peekaboo Brandon is playing, sneaking into mine and Cade's iPad moment...
...either way, this picture is a keeper.  :)

Miss 9 Months

Mila is 9 months old today!  She has officially been outta me as long as she was inhabitating my innards.  Soooooo weird, and the time that she has been in this world rather than a tadpole inside me has gone sooooooo much faster - like, light-years faster - and I wish time would slow down.  I can't believe my teeny little newborn has turned into an infant-going-on-hormonal-adolescent.  Time flies too fast.  :/

Mila is the joy of my life.  She is SO happy.  She makes anyone feel good, because no matter who she's with, she's smiling at you; grinning like a mad fool.  And that just makes people laugh.  They look at her and just smile and laugh - she never fails to cheer anyone up, EVER.  Cade was beautiful, so when people saw him, they almost had to stop and do a double-take because of the beauty this little baby had, but he wasn't very social or happy.  It took a lot more to get a smile out of him.  He was much more serious, even then.  Mila is so different from that - they very much each have their own different little personalitites, and I love it.  Mila's like a dime store hooker with those smiles - doesn't take very much for her to "put out," so to speak.  :)

Did I really just compare my child to a hooker?  Yeah, I went there.

Mila still has no teeth, though I'm not surprised, as Cade didn't get his first teeth until about 10 1/2 months or so.  And, she still can't crawl.  Though I shouldn't be surprised again, because Cade didn't crawl until about 10 or so months, either.  She is SOOOOO close to crawling - it's almost there, but she just hasn't quite yet grasped the concept.  She's a mover though - I'll set her on the floor, and then do some cleaning or browsing the web, and I'll look back a few minutes later, and the chica is across the room, and I'll have no idea how she got there!  She pretty much uses a combination of butt scooching and rolling to get her places.  It works!  And I dig it.

Mila loves loves LOVES to eat.  It makes me so happy!  She's not picky really at all, and will eat anything you give her.  I'm still giving her baby food, though she's much preferring table food, or as we call it around these parts, "human food."  She's a pro at gumming it up, (gross) since she has no chompers to chew it.

She's a great sleeper at this point.  She sleeps really soundly, and wakes up about once for a bottle, but we give it to her in her crib, so neither Brandon nor I have to spend more than 2.5 minutes awake - just long enough to warm up the bottle and give it to her, then we can head back to bed.  So we are getting more sleep around these parts, and love that.  She also sleeps in until about 9:00, so I get a little extra time to sleep in the mornings, and I love that too, since "Brie" and "morning" were never good in the same sentence!

So she is growing up.  I'm sure by next month, I'll be talking about her crawling and jetting around the place.  I can't believe how much she changes, almost every day.  I seriously can't even begin to express how much Mila makes me happy, and how perfect and right and content I feel with these two kiddos in the house.  It sounds so lame and cliche, but it's true - my heart seriously just wasn't complete until she came along...and I mean that seriously!  I feel so much more whole; our family just feels right with her here, now.

We just need to decide if we're going to have one more... ;)

Vacation Changes & Dessert Win

Hiya friends,

Vacation drama fo yo mama.  Brandon and I have decided against going to Orlando, because it is sooooooooooooo expensive.  And, the price would totally be worth it, but Cade isn't even tall enough to ride some of the rides he's most excited for - like the Harry Potter ride - so that's a total letdown.  And, we're thinking if we take him in a couple years, at least he'll be able to remember it all, too.  So instead, we're going to rent out a hotel room and take him to Lagoon, and honestly, I think he'll have just as much fun.  Brandon and I have decided to instead go to Playa Del Carmen, with no kids.  It's more than half off of what the cost would be to go to Orlando, and we get to go to a beautiful sunny beach in Mexico for an entire week.

Photo - Mommy and Mila, watching Cade's antics.

Do I feel slightly guilty we're taking this awesome trip without the kids?  Yeah, kind of.  I mostly just feel bad for Cade, that he doesn't get this cool Harry Potter trip anymore, but it just doesn't seem entirely realistic and feasible right now, and we'll take him in a couple years when he's older; I think he'll enjoy the experience more and be able to have some cool memories from it all, and seriously, what's the point of taking him if he can't go on the cool rides?

So I'm excited, but I'm also a little bummed, too.  Not for me - Playa Del Carmen will be amazing - but for Cade.  Sorry, buddy.  Does this make me a bad parent?  :(

I had a food win last night--
I was semi-napping during dinner; I was sooooo tired, so I told Brandon I'd eat when I woke up, I just needed a half hour to snooze.  Once I woke up, though, it was time to head to my bro-in-law's house for his birthday, and to eat some treats.  So I got there, and there were TONS of desserts.  Normally, I'd pry pick one thing, and be content with that, but because I hadn't eaten dinner, I was FAMISHED.  So I had like three different desserts. 
AHEM. 
THREE.
I honestly think the last time I did something like that, was probably in junior high school.  But I knew I hadn't eaten dinner, and my bod was begging for food.  So I ate it all, and I was okay with it.

But then I got home later that evening, and I started to overthink and get confused.  I wasn't necessarily hungry, cuz I'd consumed quite a lot of calories, but I know I hadn't eaten anything really healthy or nutritionally sound, so I decided I still needed to eat dinner - and I did!  So, a whole day of eating great, plus 3 desserts?  Pretty awesome, just because that is probably something that a normal, healthy, non-eating disordered person might do, on rare occasions that stuff like this comes up.  The fact that I handled it all and chose to eat the desserts; I think is really really cool. 

And of course I was scared that I would have suddenly gained a trillion pounds from all that, but nope.  My D assured me that my weight has stayed exactly the same, which just goes to show that your body and metabolism can certainly roll with the punches and deal with weird things that happen, like no dinner and an excess of desserts - of course, on occasion - not saying I'm going to make this a norm, here.  But cool to give my bod some more trust points, to see that stuff like this can happen on rare occasions and everything stays the same.

Anyway, just a little victory I wanted to share, because it helps me continue on the path to "normalcy," whatever the crap that is.  But whatever it is...I think I'm beginning to like it.  :)

10 Years Ago, Today

On  April 25, 2002, I entered inpatient treatment for anorexia nervosa for the first time.  I was 17.  I was terrified.  I was out of my mind sick, and damn near dead.  My parents essentially made the decision I was to go into treatment before I turned 18 and could legally refuse it.  I was angry and bitter and I didn't understand my disorder at all, in fact I didn't even think I had a problem.

I thought that I'd go into treatment, eat, do a little therapy, and 90 days later, voila, I'd be all better.  I was terribly naive, and I didn't know that treatment doesn't work unless you WORK to make it work.  And so, sadly, during that treatment stay, I didn't really get better.  Yes, I got "better" in the sense that I gained weight, but I wasn't ready to give up my eating disorder, and I didn't - not yet.  It took me several more years to understand what recovery was and what it took, and it took me a long time to understand that I didn't want anorexia to kill me.

Photo - I thought for about .485 seconds about posting a picture of 17 year old Brie, but then realized you'd all shriek out thinking I was DEAD.  Don't want to be triggering, so those pictures will forever be hidden in boxes in my storage room!  So you get me...looking...serene?  In my recovery maybe?

I was searching through some old boxes this morning, and I found my journal from when I was in treatment.  I wanted to share a few excerpts from my very first day in treatment:

April 25, 2002

...So I just ate my first meal here...they gave me a 24 hour "grace" period where I don't have to eat everything on my plate if I don't want to.  Which is good because we had hamburgers.  Yeah, definitely haven't eaten one of those in forever!

So Mom and Brett dropped me off.  It actually was okay.  There really were no tears until the very end...when I was hugging Brett.  I got really choked up.   ...I've met most of the girls, and they seem really kind for the most part...but I'm one of the youngest girls here, at 17.

...It's just so hard for me to imagine that right now I should be in AP English class.  The whole world is going on and continuing, while essentially, my life is on hold for 3 months.  But I don't like to think of it that way.

I'm hoping this will be a kind of new beginning for me.  I'm coming here scared and sick and confused, but in 90 days when I leave, I'm going to be happy and healthy and a new and better me.  I guess I just can't get over it, I keep trying to get used to the idea that this very place I'm sitting in will be my home for 3 months.  It really hasn't sunk in yet.

So today has been really busy.  They drew my blood and did and EKG - which they said was abnormal - and then about four people have asked me the same questions over and over!

I'm trying to be so optimistic, but I'm scared.  Before I got here, I pictured treatment being this place where they strapped you to a bed and pumped you full of food until you got fat, sort of like some nazi eating disorder camp.  And I can tell it's not going to be that way, but it's still not going to be easy, and I'm really scared.  I don't like admitting that I am, but I am.  I really really am terrified.  I hope I can do this.

Wow.  Reading that....I don't know how it makes me feel.  Kind of sad.  Kind of nostalgic.  But mostly just really really glad that I am not back in the past, with 17 year old Brie.  I'm so happy that I'm here, that I'm healthy and energetic and vivacious and doing recovery.  I'm so happy that I went into treatment, even though it was scary and hard, and even though it didn't stick that time, because it set the foundation for me to get better.  I think it took the whole of all of my experiences, all of my failure and triumphs, to get me here.  To get me to Live.

And so, 10 years ago, I made a pretty scary, but a pretty awesome decision to get better - or, to at least try.  The seed of recovery was planted, even if it didn't yet begin to bloom.  And I'm glad that it did eventually bloom; that 10 years later I can confidently say that I am happy and ALIVE and so happy that I chose to get rid of this needless disease that sucks the life out of you until it eventually tosses you aside, dead, or at least as good as dead.  I'm so glad I didn't choose that for me.  I'm so glad I chose Life.

Everywhere

Hello, goosies.  This post, I'm warning you in advance, is probably going to be all over the place, just because I have no cohesive topic, so I've picked a few randoms to talk about today.

Number one, because this is SOOOOOOOO important!  What the H-bomb is a "fart bag?"  Am I too old to know that this is what the kids are saying these days?  I took the kiddos to the park yesterday, and Cade found a pack of boys to run rampant with.  He was clearly the oldest in the group; the other boys looked like they were three, maaaaybe four.  And one of the little jerklets started calling Cade a fart bag!  And then everyone started laughing (including Cade, clearly he recovers) and then they ALL started yelling FART BAG!  FART BAG!  Like it was the funniest thing in the world.  I, however; am not amused, because I don't want my five year old saying something as disgusting and ominous, and, well, I'm still not sure what it means, and that makes it extra weird and not okay for me!  I don't have a super squeaky clean mouth, and I do curse from time to time, but I never ever curse in front of my kids, unless it just slips out on accident, and as a general rule, I swear a lot less than I used to, say, a year or two ago, and I'm still a work in progress on that one, and hope to clean up my language even more.  And while fart bag doesn't exactly offend me, it does stress me out that a three year old was yelling it.  I just hope it doesn't stick in Cade's little brain, and heaven help me, if he repeats it to our bishop or something, I'll die, and then promptly tell him that his usage of the term FART BAG was not due to poor parenting skills, but a wayward child throwing out something he probably heard his dad yell at the TV when he was watching basketball.  Fart bag didn't come from me, I swearsies!  I'm not "cool" enough or "hip" enough or whatever to come up with new slang.  Just had to declare that for the record.  :)

Photo - this "Fart Bag" clearly needs to tweeze her eyebrows.

Went out to the lot again today, and they were pouring cement.  Beautiful, glorious, amazing cement!  I also met my soon to be next door neighbor, and she was really nice.  She has 3 kids, and one of them is around Cade's age, so I'm excited he'll have a little friend right next door.  The neighborhood I live in now isn't fun for kids, because it is predominantly inhabitated by old geezers and geezettes.  (Only kidding, I love them all dearly!)  Not even kidding, the average age around here is like 75.  I'm a spring chicken around these parts, and poor C doesn't have any friends.  So this is going to be so great for him; us moving to a really family-friendly neighborhood and city is going to do wonders for him, I think.

Another question regarding Cade:
So, I know I blogged awhile ago, telling you all that I was having C repeat Kindergarten.  And we're still really confident that is the right decision.  So, in the meantime, should I pull Cade out of school?  He only has about 6 weeks left, but I'm wondering what he's going to think about going through a Kindergarten "graduation," and then in the fall, starting Kindergarten over.  We've already told him that he's so lucky he gets to start over at his new school and go to Kindergarten, and we're not really telling him that repeating Kindergarten is weird or not the norm; I want him to just assume that's the way things are supposed to happen with moving to the new house.  So I'm worried that when he finishes Kindergarten here, he'll wonder why he has to do it again, and I'm not sure how to tackle that.  And, honestly, he hates going to school, so I'm wondering if I pull him out, maybe it would be easier for both of us?  I mean I don't know?  I think I'm going to talk to his teacher about it tomorrow.  I feel loads better, just knowing he is repeating Kindergarten, but I still am unsure on how to handle the whole thing delicately, so that it doesn't upset or embarrass him.  I would be horrified if my mini-man thought that something was wrong with him - it would make me so sad.

Anyway, I'm also relieved, because I think I am pulling out of that yucky depression I was in.  I am in general feeling much more optimistic and happy and just content, so I'm really grateful for that.  I have a lot of fun things to look forward to in the near future though, and I think that is really helping.  In May, I'm going on the Supah Awesome Sister Trip, and then we're also going to Orlando.  In June we have a few trips planned, too.  And then in July it's mine and Mila's birthday, and then in August we move into the new pad.  So if I can just get through boring and bland April, then good things are ahead.  Phew.  I can doooooooo it!  Sometimes you just have to make it day to day, and to each little milestone - that's how I had to handle things during my pregnancy, or else I wouldn't have been able to handle 9 months of misery and fretful anxiety.  So, until my sister trip in a couple weeks, I can be happy and productive, right?  Yes, I think so.  And so does my kitchen, that desperately needs the dishes washed.  But I don't care how excited I am for an upcoming vacay, I will still make Brandon change the litter.  ;)  (Just kidding.)

Toldja this would be everywhere.  Bye friends.

New House Adventure Week 8

I have news!  I finally have house news!  We have a hole!  We have a hole!  And it is the most GLORIOUS hole in all of the universe!  And it is ours.  :)

Brandon drove out to the lot today on his lunch break and saw that they had dug the hole and put gravel down and are putting in the cement walls.  I know it's not much, but we are SO EXCITED, because this building a house thing finally feels real again.  So tonight after dinner, we drove out to see the progress - I had to see it for myself.  :)

So...it doesn't look like much?  I know?  Kind of boring, but this is it.  We are excited they are finally breaking ground.  Looks like the house is scheduled to be framed the 2nd or 3rd week of May, and they are pouring cement (we think) tomorrow, or at the very latest sometime this week.

Men and their big machinery.

Daddy/Son exploring.

King of the Mountain!!

I adore this picture of my man and my girl.  They both look so cute.  (Can a grown man look "cute?"  Sorry Honey!)

Had to get a full body pic of Mila, because she is wearing pint-sized capri's, and my little heart was totally shrieking out!

Pointing to the hole, declaring it is good!

I wore terrible dirt-trawling shoes.  My feet are totally dusty.

Cade loved the big dirt machine thingys.  I have no idea what they are called.

Already littering on our property!  Harumph.

Mila stole the iPad away from  me on this one...

Cade was obsessed with traversing this gravel mountain.  He kept climbing it over and over again.  It was definitely the hit of his evening.

We are so happy.  :)  For a few weeks there when nothing was happening, this whole house dream felt so unreal, and so far away and like it was never going to happen.  Seeing ground being broken, and things happening, made it all real again, and the excitement just came rushing back to me!  I cannot wait to visit the lot every week and see the progress.  Looks like my New House Adventure installments are BACK AND BETTER THAN EVA.

Be excited with me!  Who knew holes could elicit so much FERVOR AND EXCITEMENT?!  ;)

Blogxygen (and me) Evolved

So I had an interesting conversation today with the T, about my blog.  I was telling her how therapeutic it is for me and about how much it helps me, and about how all of you who comment are like my mini-pseudo therapists who have the most amazing things to say, that always, without fail, help me through whatever it is in particular I am going through.  I told her I almost don't need her - I just need you for all my therapeutic troubles...and hell, this is much cheaper!  :)

Photo - me and Bobbi, contemplating recovery... even admidst smeary eye makeup.  ;)

And then the conversation kind of morphed into how it's so much easier for me to be open and express myself through the written word, rather than through actually having a conversation with someone face to face.  And, to my surprise, (and relief) she doesn't think at all that I use my blog as a crutch, but rather that it can be used as a tool to continue helping me in my recovery.  And that was nice to hear - because I do know that it's so much more comfortable for me to write a blog post about, say, the depression I went through a couple weeks ago, rather than talk out loud to someone about what is happening for me in real time, and I really hope that one day I can get there; that at some point it will get more comfortable for me to ask for help or say out loud what is going on for me, but until that happens, honestly, I'm just really glad I have Blogxygen as an outlet.  And even when I am better about communicating my needs or feelings or whatever, I still think I'll have Blogxygen anyway, just because I love it so much and I love all of you so much.  So, all in all, I don't think I'm going anywhere.  :)

And it was kind of interesting, because I feel like my blog is so much more genuine than it used to be.  Two, three years ago, when I was blogging, yes I was blogging about recovery, but I don't think it was as honest because I was much more entrenched in my eating disorder, and I was quite underweight.  And yes, while I was really and truly trying to get better, so I most definitely get points for that, I still think that now, when I talk about recovery, it means more because I'm at a healthy weight and am taking care of myself, etc, so (I hope) it comes off more real.  I'm not perfect, and of course my recovery is not perfect, but I can tell you for damn sure that it's a gazillion times better than it was a couple years ago.  And yes, while back then I was honestly trying, I wasn't there yet, but I feel like I'm getting really close to "There" now, and so I feel better about blogging about it, and I can sense from you guys that you all seem to be responding more honestly and enthusiastically to it, too.

And, even a few years ago, I'd get emails from a lot of readers asking me how I lost all the weight, and praising me for my thinness, and it was really hard, and it stressed me out, because I could see that people who were trawling the web for pro-ana material were flocking to my blog to look at my scary-skinny pictures, when that was not my intention at all.  But now, I never get emails like that from readers.  I get emails asking for help, or maybe asking for advice, or just saying hi.  :)  And while I'm notoriously bad at responding to emails (I'll get there, I promise!) I still sincerely love getting every one of them, and hearing from my readers.  So I can tell in that way, thankfully, that Blogxygen has evolved in a good way, and that makes me happy.

So thanks to all for being there for me.  Thanks for supporting me and Blogxygen through this journey.  Thank you for letting me share my life - even when it isn't always that pretty.  I'm glad to be a part of your life, even if in a very small way - even if I'm that "one kinda cool and kinda crazy chick from Utah."  I'll take it.  :)

For those of you that have blogs, has your blog evolved with your recovery?  Have you seen Blogxygen evolve?  Does blogging help or hinder your recovery?  Thoughts, please!

Addendum - I posted this blog a  couple hours ago, but since then, I've been thinking.  I don't want other people who are in recovery but who are not doing well or are underweight and who blog to think that I mean that their posts and blogs are disingenuous or fake.  That's not what I am saying at all - simply that for me, since I've been walking the walk and talking the talk, my blog, for me personally, seems more helpful both for me and others.  That is all.  :)

The Power of Peanut Butter Oreos

Happy weekend, special baby lovers.  Would it be fair to tell you all that you are all giant sacks of precious poop, and I mean that in the most sincere and glorious way?  ;)

Photos - me and Cade, mugging for the camera.

Yesterday I threw out my back again.  Remember back in February, when I injured it really bad, by doing almost nothing (putting Mila on the couch)?  Well, since then, it's been touch and go - it hurts a lot, and I have to be careful, but it was more or less healing okay.  And I don't know what I did to it yesterday, but I did something, and it is mega killing me.  I can't bend over or really walk well or anything like that, and I am mostly confined to lying on the couch.  I think I need a doctor's help, or physical therapy or something, but we don't have any insurance until May 1st, so it'll definitely have to wait until then, just for monetary reasons.  I'm trying to be really careful, because if I seriously injure it like I did in February, then we'd have to pay a lot of money with no insurance and that would majorly sucko.  So I am taking it easy, but it sucks, because I can't do anything.  The weather was insanely gloriously fabulously amazing today - it was 82 degrees in April IN UTAH - that's UNHEARD OF - and we were going to go on a hike, but I couldn't cuz my back hurt too much, and I was scared of injuring it further.  So I settled for lying a blanket out on the grass and basking my vitamin D deficient skin in the sun while I dozed behind my Ray Bans.  Sure, it comes in at a close second to a hike, but it was still really nice.

Does anyone have any simple exercises for strengthening a lower back, or any ideas of things I can do to help my back feel better, until I can get in to see a doctor?  Just thought I'd throw that out there and ask.  :)

And then I took a marathon nap with le kitties, and it was glorious - 3 full hours - I'm so lazy.  But it was nice!  Brandon was awesome to watch the kids for me so that I could catch up on the Zzzz's I've been missing out on since my back hurts so much.  I'm pretty lucky to have him.

And then something else amazing happened today...I found peanut butter Oreos!!!!!  (Yes, that warrants FIVE exclamation points!!!!!)  I found them a couple months ago, and on a whim, decided to try them.  And I LOVED them.  Loved is even too weak a word to describe the feelings I had for these delectable treats.  Maybe I should go so far as to say I LUSTED for them.  LUSTED.  So, after we finished off the package, (it happened quite quickly!) I went back to the same Walmart I found them at, to buy more, and...and...THEY WERE GONE.  And I've looked ever since, wherever I am, and I can never find them.  :(  But then tonight, we were doing some grocery shopping, and I saw them at the store, and seriously started shrieking out right in the middle of aisle 7, and bought 3 packages.  I'd have bought, like, 13, but I was afraid Brandon would make fun of me, but my old anorexic hoarding instincts kicked in, and I feel like I need to buy a ton before they disappear on me again!!  ;)  But hopefully they'll stay stocked on the shelves...oh my deliciousness...so, good friends, just know that if you ever see peanut butter Oreos, you are to buy two packages - one for yourself, to try, and the other for me.  You may mail it to me.  Or hand deliver them.  Or we can meet halfway and share them.  :) 

 And...I know it sounds silly, but I just have to take a sec to acknowledge how cool it is that Oreos can even get me excited; that I let them get me excited.  The old, anorexic Brie would NEVER blog about Oreos, or about their amazingness, because I quite simply would have been too afraid of them.  I'd have been afraid of buying 3 packages, because it would have been scary to have them at my house - but now - pish!  I don't care - I want them, so I allow myself to eat them.  It's simple, but it's also monumental.  :)

What else?  Oh yeah, remember these TOMS that I wanted?  Oh, I just own them now.  Even though they are teal and don't go with many things, I wear them with everything.  I don't even care.  They are amazing, and Brandon bought them for me to cheer me up, and cheer me up they did!  I mean, how can I go wrong with peanut butter Oreos and teal TOMS?  Life is GOOD.  :)

Tomorrow the weather is going to be just as fantastic, and I don't think I'm going to go to church, because sitting for 3 long hours in a wooden pew with a bad back will be nearly impossible.  So I think I'll get comfy with a blanket and my newest Stephen King book and wear my new TOMS, all while noshing on peanut butter Oreos.  So simple, but that sounds like a pretty fabulous life to me.  :)  I hope you all have days that are filled with things you love, too!

Bye friends.

Dirty Hairy Love

So, Brandon struck a deal with me a few weeks ago.  He promised me that he would be nice to my cats, if, in exchange, I would stop talking dirty to them.

I thought this was a great plan.  Because Brandon doesn't really like le kitties.  In general, the stance they have toward each other is "Maybe if I ignore you, you'll ignore me," and it usually works - but occasionally, Brandon can no longer handle his annoyance with them, and he'll stomp around the house and chase them under the bed, just to assert his dominance and let them know just who's boss.  I watch it all, amused.

But I thought, great!  I can finally get Brandon and Hairy to love each other!  Maybe if I stop talking dirty to her, Brandon will start composing great and important and super long sonnets to her about his love for her.  And I will positively pine for him, seeing this outpouring of affection he has for furry creatures.  MY furry creatures.  I mean, how could this not be okay, right?!

And I had been holding steady.  It was HARD, but I was reigning in my dirty talk for Hairy.

Until last night.

Last night, it just came out.  I couldn't help it.  I'm wheedling here, but I really couldn't help it.

I said,

Oh Hairy, if Daddy pooped out preciousness, it would be you!

That's all.

But I didn't keep my bargain.  I mean, at least I didn't say something as outright like, Hey, I wanna show you the pleasure I robbed you of when I spayed you, since I erased any chance that a male cat will de-flower and impregnate you, but still, I SAID IT.  I mixed the words "poop" and "preciousness" in one sentence, and I don't think anyone's ever done that before.  And I think that can count as "dirty."  What do you think?

Damn.
Brandon wins.

It's too hard not to talk some dirty love smack with Hairy.  It's just too hard.

So Hairy will have to settle for my love, and for these blog posts I write, in exchange for the love sonnets her daddy will never write her.  I'm sorry Hairy, I'm sorry, but at least you are a giant sack of precious poop.  At least there's that. 

:)