The Junk Food Junkie Diaries

A PEEP INTO THE LIFE of a Junk Food Junkie who has decided to eat healthy and get fit.  

The Day Before:

Naps instead of making grocery list. (Guys, it's Sunday). Is very grumpy. Is supposed to have groceries to cook in bulk by 6 pm- still has not made the list.

Cries about 5 pm. Overwhelmed at thought of not having french fries for a long time.  Two other family members who are already nice and fit have decided they want to do the program too, so Junkie has to make an additional two other meals to her one.  Food prep up 66%. Or something like that.  Doesn't like math either.

Cries again, blames it on sad episode of Cake Boss.

Finally makes grocery list at 9 pm.  Texts it to oldest son who is out and tell him to get these items so family will at least have enough for breakfast and lunch.  

He brings it.  Junkie wishes she’d just have given him the whole list but knows he would never bring home the right things (he once brought home FAT FREE cheese - NO), so just gave him the basics.  Now still have to go to grocery tomorrow.

Tries to figure out the color coded box system which comes with the Beach Body 21 Day Fix that Junkie has signed up for. Was hoping they'd just send her a new bod with the program. Hates the boxes. No new bod in there. Wants 10 blue boxes, only gets 1.  Blue box gets cheese.  Who can live with only a tiny box of cheese?

Already feeling withdrawals even though had Mt. Dew and Pringles while making the grocery list. Goes to bed feeling ashamed for being so grumpy with family.  While in bed looks at Facebook, sees member of the Beach Body group has started a day early.  Pics of food prep and sweaty selfie after her workout.  Dislike her immediately. Carolyn. Remember that name.

Official Day 1:

Wake up still grouchy and overwhelmed. Tell hubby his usual oatmeal is within the program and he can have that. Hubby looks afraid to talk to Junkie and politely leaves for work.

Must have coffee before making any decisions.  Thank goodness it’s on the program or someone might get hurt.

Day 3: 

Rest of Day 1 and Day 2 a blur.  Slightly remembers feeling like passing out during workouts.  Workouts not helped by 10 year old on roller blades circling around Junkie during the workout video, yelling, ‘Come on, Mom, even the fat lady on TV is doing better than you.’ 

Child may or may not have been duct-taped to the couch.  Who knows, still a blur.

UPDATES TO COME: (dramatic voice) - Will Junk Food Junkie make it through the 21 days??  Will family be fed at all?  Will rollerblading child survive?? Was he actually duct-taped to the couch???)  Stay tuned, there may be another installment in the Junk Food Diaries.  Or Junkie may have quit by tomorrow, in which case, this series is over.

If Elizabeth, er, I mean 'Junkie' continues this diet,  I"m going to Grandma's.

A Wife For My Husband

Just so you know, my hubby will be totally taken care of in the event of my death.  Not that I plan on going down that path any day soon, but it pays to be prepared.  Bear actually has planned it all out, which came about as follows:

On our way to church several Sundays ago, we spotted a car stopped with their hazard lights on.  In the car was a very attractive woman and her two small children who’d run out of gas.  Being the knight in shining armor that my husband is (after 23 years, I still really like that guy), he volunteered to get her gas from our garage.  Bear was beside himself with excitement.  The thought of helping a pretty lady was almost more than he could take. 

On the way to get the gas, he says, "You know, mom, she’s VERY pretty….I’d say you are #1 when it comes to pretty and I’d put her as #2.....Except for in the mornings, then she’d be #1."

Well, gee. Thanks so much. I had a good thing going until that morning part.

We got back to Pretty Lady and Bear helped his dad carry the gas can and fill up her tank.  He hopped back in the car and announced, "I’M A HERO!" He was very proud to say the least and still very taken with the beautiful woman.

I’d just about recovered from being demoted to #2 Pretty status when Bear says, "Ya know Mom, I bet if you weren’t around, Dad would marry her."

Whoa Nelly.  Say whaaaaat??

Needless to say, that woman mysteriously disappeared from our area. 

Ha, just kidding!

So, I haven’t felt too secure in the looks depart since this 'pretty' incident, and I'm rethinking that fuzzy plaid purple bathrobe I wear every morning. I do know that if something happens to me, Bear will make sure that my babe has an instant replacement. 

I bet she won't wear a fuzzy purple bathrobe.

And she’ll be #1 Pretty. 

❤️, Elizabeth

I love the purple bathrobe. 

A Boy's Room- Bear's Bunkhouse

I found out Bear was a climber when he was 2.  I'd been occupied with his brother for a few and then I couldn't find him (I know, bad mom).  Then I spotted him, he was sitting on top of the refrigerator, eating out of a family size bag of Lay's potato chips. When I held out my arms to coax him down, he dumped the whole bag of chips on my head.  Turns out he's not fond of sharing me with his bro.

When we were picking out bedrooms in the house plan, Bear specifically wanted the room closest to his dad and me.  Right across the hall.  It was the smallest room in the house, but had tall ceilings, a walk-in closet and his own bathroom.  I decided since he wouldn't have much room in there, we'd build up instead of out, perfect for a climber!  

I was afraid to put in a twin bed because that I think Bear is going to end up a big guy and I didn't want him to outgrow it too quickly.  A queen would have swallowed up all the space in the room, and a full is the same length as a twin so that could still end up being too short.  Ugh.  Then I discovered another size I'd never heard of - an extra long full!  It's perfect, the length of a queen and the width of a full!  Who knew!  Sheets can only be bought online with no cute prints that I've found, but I can deal with that. 

My original plan (it only changed twenty times!) was to put in two beds end to end but two wouldn't fit.  Not even two twin sized. So I thought it'd be fun to enclose the top, put a ladder on the end and make it a bunk/playhouse area.  The two panels at the very top can be opened and the hinge can be put in a locked position so it stays open if Bear wants.  The bottom ones are stationary. 

Sorry no pics from the inside. Last time I was in there I got stuck and couldn't get down.  It took an additional ladder and two people to get me out.  Thank goodness it wasn't the fire dept.

I had a desk built at the end of the bed.  Sometimes it's a catch all, but it's great for all his stuff!  

You see that furby in the basket?  I dislike that guy. A lot. 

Same goes for the large drawers under his bed.  Huge amount of books, etc. in there!  And it stays hidden, hooray!

Shiplap is on the back wall behind the bed and desk.  I can't tell you how much I have enjoyed shiplap.  I love the look but had never considered the durability. We have it in our hallway leading to the garage also and it's great because kids can ramble down the hall, backpack, etc., hitting the wall and no problem, no damage!  Plus it's so easy to wipe down if it does get handprints or whatever.  (I'm usually afraid of the 'whatever'). Joanna Gaines knew what she was talking about!

I'm not sure where the obsession came from with the British flag, but obviously it's all over the room. I admit it's too much but there's a lot of cute flag stuff out there!   I found the rug on Etsy here (love Etsy!).  They had some fun handmade Turkish rugs to choose from and actually ship it from Turkey.  I was a little leery, wondering if it would really get here without my money mysteriously disappearing, but it all worked out. The only downside is it's a very low pile, so it's not super cozy.

The British flag pillows on the bed and desk chair came from antique shops but are new. The flag over the desk isn't quite the British flag but I stumbled across it in Texas at an antique nautical store.  I love nautical stuff and this place was unbelievable with old portholes, huge rope knots, etc. They had a ton of large old flags and they were only about $10 each.  I looked on their site, pieceofship.com, and they said they are running out of the flags made of the grain sack type material like the one I have, so I hope they have not upped the price.  A lot of them are nylon now but I believe you could still find some grain sack ones there if you are looking. (I've heard of them being used to reupholster chairs, how cute is that?!) Everything else in here is from antique stores, HomeGoods, TJ Maxx or Burke's and most are under $30ish each with a few exceptions. The office chair was an antique store find that I painted and it was also in the $30 range. I love to decorate on the thrift if I can!

Moving on....The ladder.  Y'all I couldn't resist.  Hubby thought I'd lost my mind.  I changed this room up a bizillion times until I thought the builder was going to wring my neck  :) Above Bear's room is a large bonus room, about 14' x 45'.  I talked hubs into finishing it for a guestroom/playroom for the boys.  I'm so glad I did because I ended up with more usable space upstairs and it doubles as a guest room.  Private with one exception.  There's a trapdoor.

I'd have a slide instead of stairs if I could, ...oooh and a hidden room with one of those bookcases that covers the door and only moves if you pull the light sconce... but a trapdoor was as far as I could take it, guys.  There's reality.  Called the Husband.  Who would actually like to pay for electricity and running water instead of a slide.  Sigh.  (In all fairness, he did think a hidden room would be cool, yet that darn factor of budget kept getting in the way).  I'm not sure how everyone in those Scooby Doo episodes afforded all those secret rooms.  

I'm rambling.  Back to the ladder and trapdoor.   

The ladder leads to a trapdoor in the floor of the playroom, so when guests stay, they are thrilled when Bear pops his head through the floor to say good morning!  It's always a little interesting around here.  When our foreign exchange student stayed in that room for nine months, we had to totally ban the use of the trapdoor.  Bless her heart, the relationship between Germany and America will never be the same.

The landing at the top just below the trapdoor. The mini ladder was added after the build when we figured out it was difficult to make it up through the trapdoor.  I really don't want to squish myself in there to paint it so I'm going all rebel and not doing it.  

The room from the landing. I didn't know if I was going to make it down from here.

Trapdoor in guest room.  Fun times unless you're the guest...

One thing that always got me about looking at pics when we were building is that I never knew the dimensions, so I never knew if the designs would work in my space. I'll end with all the dimensions just in case you are interested.

Our builder surprised me and came up with the design for the ladder himself.  

The ceilings are 12' high.  If the bed was lowered, this design would still work with an 8' ceiling height.

The room is 12'3" by 11'5", with the bed along the 12'3 wall.

The height of the platform where the mattress sits is 28".  Because of the high mattress, the end result was much higher than we anticipated and even I have to use the stepstool to get onto the bed.  Although it was a mistake, it's kind of fun to have a bed so high.  On the downside, later if it's used as a guest room (I anticipate Bear taking over his older brother's room at some point) not all guests will be thrilled with literally climbing into bed.  (Though these kind of people probably would not have appreciated a hidden room either, so I'm not sure we can be friends).  The platform of the upper bunk is at roughly 7 1/2' which leaves about four and a half feet of head room in the upper area. The desk is 5'4" wide and two feet deep.

I hope this is helpful for anyone building their own bunks or just a fun, quirky room.  We've had a lot of good times here so far!  

Elizabeth

Edited to add:   - I've had some questions about the lighting and floors.  The light fixture and flooring were suggested by a local designer who chose all the flooring and all but a couple of lights in the house.  Unfortunately, I don't have the brand name of the light but the floors are hickory.  If I come across the brands we used I will add them in a future post.

I don't like that furby guy either.

How I Dealt With My Child's Chronic Illness

I was crying.  

It was becoming more often and I didn't know what to do.  My baby boy was diagnosed with a chronic illness and I felt helpless and afraid. Terrified, actually, and desperate.  Desperate for life to go back to what it was before, to end what was so unfair for him and to be able to protect him like a mommy should.  

I had prayed about it, said all the right things, done all the research.  I became a diabetes fanatic, checking his blood sugar around the clock, documenting, finding trends, searching for anything that would make it better.  This uninvited guest stayed and with every finger poke and insulin shot my boy was a trooper. I was falling down a dark hole, jealous of other moms who didn't have to endure this, mad at the world because they didn't understand, but mostly it was the despair that circled me round and round like a slow tornado, tripping me up, making me feel helpless and guilty that I couldn't make him better.

I cried and worried and prayed in the middle of the night when no one would see. My sweet husband was asleep and he'd been through enough without me falling apart on him again. This particular night I frantically cried out to God in a way I'd ever done before, asking Him what to do, was my son going to be okay, how was he going to live like this for the rest of his life, would he even live a long life?  

And God answered.

In my flurry of thoughts and tears, my mind became still and silent and I heard:

'Don't you think I love him, too?'

Everything in me stopped.  My tears stopped.  Time stopped.  I sat up and looked around as my husband slept soundly.  I just had a miraculous moment but there was no one else there to witness it.  He had spoken to me as if He was in the room.  It's hard to explain, it wasn't verbal, but when you know that you know....it was Him and He had taken the time to speak to ME.

It was as if someone had gently taken me by my shoulders and shook me. I realized I had never truly turned over one problem to God, not this one, not any. The fact that He loved my son as much as I did, MORE than I did, had never dawned on me.  Which meant that my son had a Father and protector that was greater than anything that I could offer or imagine. He was all knowing and in control, and if I let Him, He would overcome my fears, my despair and any disease. He's got this and more importantly, He wanted the best outcome for my little guy even MORE THAN ME.  I still have a hard time wrapping my brain around it sometimes.

From that day forward, I slept soundly.  My despair was gone.  Of course, the fears would try to continue to creep in but those were always quieted with the memory of that moment.  God is not the author of fear. I knew that my son would be okay. 

If you are dealing with a child with an illness, or anything, for that matter...

Dig down deep, when you really think about it, you know that you know...

He loves them too. 

❤️, Elizabeth

Fails - Beyond the Camera Lens

Pinterest is meant for inspiration, right?  These beautiful, crisp, staged pictures. I LOVE to look at them and admit, I want the pictures here to show well also.  But if you really know me, ahem, you know behind a well staged picture there is always is a little bit of crazy going on.  

Amongst all the perfection of Pinterest pictures and HGTV shows, I know there's a hot mess somewhere there too. There's got to be something there besides PERFECTION.  Maybe a pile of papers just out of the camera's reach, toys (well, electronics) are scattered, muddy footprints are on the floor, and there are handprints on the glass doors.  At least that's how I imagine it, because when I take pictures here, at least one of those things is in the background.  And then there's just the out and out fails.  Projects that I imagine are just going to turn out so cute and picture worthy, and well...they turn out like this:

Who could know that I didn't make the curtain wide enough or that the rod wouldn't stay put or the folds wouldn't cooperate?  

Dear iron company...not cool of you to put plastic on the iron. I have enough problems.

I mean really, who could know that if you get a new iron you should notice that there's plastic on the front before you turn it on?  

Ok.  Most people would notice that.  I didn't.  It gets really melty, guys.

Also, I thought I knew how to make a slipcover.  I've made one for a whole couch before and it actually turned out ok.  Apparently, if I add piping for the first time, however, this happens:

This wondrous example of my talent all took place in the same room.  It looks awesome...

And to further show you my abilities, I made another slipcover that was supposed to look like this:

 thefrenchprovencialfurniture.com

But when I got done with it, it looked like this:

If I squint my eyes really hard, I'm sure it looks just like the inspiration picture.  

What is this?  What......is.......this?  A poodle skirt?? Or just a poodle.  I've sewn a big, fluffy poodle.  Fabulous.

I had a friend innocently tell me once that I made her feel really good about her life sometimes.  LOL.  Then I thought, geez, maybe she's right!  I could be an inspiration to a lot of people. God's calling for me is to show everyone, 'Hey, if you mess up that's okay! You'll survive!  Just look at Elizabeth! She's happy!

So this is for you, friend, who is out there having a bad day, thinking you are not good enough, that everyone else's (insert here: life, spouse, children, house, car, situation, etc) is perfect, and that no one fails but you.

Look beyond the camera lens.  Everyone fails.  It's all good.

Look at the poodle slipcover.  

And feel better.

❤️, Elizabeth

I fail to stay as cute during a bath.  I don't want to talk about it.

P.S.- Tell me about your fails...Come on, I know I'm not the only one.  

Please, tell me I'm not the only one.

That Time I Tried To Skip Father's Day - A Bear Tale

We are sitting in church when the pastor asked all the fathers to stand up to be recognized for Father's Day.  I'm gazing around the room, watching the humble, sweet dads standing, mostly wanting to sit back down and not draw attention to themselves.  Then there was this one.  He was standing with his head held high, actually, was he on his toes? Is he trying to stand taller than the rest? This dad was a proud one, he was.  Then I see his face which has the biggest grin.

It's The Bear.

 I lean over his brother to get closer to him and whisper in the 'mom' tone.  "Bear, sit down."

Bear: "No, mom.  I'm a dad."

Me: "You are NOT a dad, SIT DOWN."  He's ten. Why am I having to have this conversation?

Bear: "I am so a dad.  I'm ELLIE'S dad."  His grin got bigger and I know in his mind he was also thinking, Why am I having to have this conversation? And so there he stood with the rest of the fathers and, of course, was among the last to sit down. The fact that someone in the church that morning had given him a whole bag of twizzlers (which he gladly had eaten every piece) was evident.  He was in full Bear mode.

Being Father's Day, I'd been thinking of my dad and Bear's antics reminded me of a time my dad had told me he had also misbehaved in church.  His pastor would leave a written copy of his sermon on the pulpit before church began.  Dad and his friends really wanted to go swimming that day, so they 'misplaced' the sermon.  That was the quickest service they'd ever had and out they went to the pool. Hmmmmm. It must run in the family to be little stinkers.  At least Bear's stunt was over and it didn't result in church being dismissed.

Bear got up and walked to the back of the church as the preacher started his sermon.  I'm thinking bathroom break.  Then the mom vibe hit me and I look over and question his brother with my raised eyebrows. (His brother deserves a more proper introduction, but for now, he is my almost 20 year old sweetheart/prankster of a child, who at 6'2", I still call 'Little B'). 

Me: 'Bathroom?'

Little B grimly shakes his head.  We have this whole nonverbal conversation with eyebrows and eyes rolling and lifted shoulders.  Which could only mean one thing.  Troubles a-brewing.

Little B: 'See that block of sunlight on the wall behind the preacher's head?'

Me: 'Yes.'  I was starting to sweat.

B:  'He wanted to know if that came from the foyer window.  Then he left.'

I could only wait helplessly.  To give you a clearer picture of what was going on, there was a rectangle of sunlight shining through the window at least 4-5 feet tall just above the preacher's head on the wall behind him in the pulpit.  The congregation sees the outline of a window. Bear sees a great shadow puppet arena.

My little guy is a performer.  And perform, he must.

I could only sit in a panic and wait.

Soon I saw the huge shadow of his profile slowly walk by. 

Once.

Oh my.

Twice.

Oh dear. Please sit down...

Three times.

I held my breath.

I knew by the time I got to him the show would be over. I wanted to look away but it was the train wreck you had to watch.

The fourth time there is a little wave of a giant hand.

I smiled just a little.  Wait, what am I smiling at, this is soooo wrong.  And besides, I had already decided I was emotionally skipping out that day. Father's Day when cancer has stolen your father is just a day that you want to get over with as quickly as possible.  I was not going to smile, mister.   

Getting braver, the fifth time there was a giant dancing silhouette.  Shew.  There it was again, a little grin along with my terror.  Thank goodness it was a quick dance.  

Bear returned and both boys were quietly laughing and smiling from ear to ear.  And being the ever so inappropriate mom that day, I silently giggled with them. And then almost snorted. Soon I laughed inside so hard tears were forming and I was trying not to be so obvious as I shook up and down trying to hold it all in.  These kids had transformed me into a misbehaving teenager at the worst possible time.  I could do nothing to reprimand The Bear other than try to muster up the sternest look I could give him.  He triumphantly sat down.

I'm sorry to everyone in the church, I really am. 

While I was mourning and all caught up in death, my boys were celebrating life and I decided to join them.   

My dad would want it so. 

Daddy?!