Booish

A rant about stuff

So I had a fill this week, lifting the amount in the band to 5 mls.  I didn't get my lovely surgeon this time.  It was a lady doctor who was, quite frankly, a little rough and, as a result, the fill hurt a bit.  But I now have restriction so I'm hoping to see some decent loss.  When I got weighed at the surgery, I was back up at 109.8kgs!  Terrible stuff.

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What I am not happy about is some stuff at home.  Since I don't really have an outlet to nonsensically rant in real life, I'm sorry for the next few paragraphs.  They are not weight related.  I just need to get this stuff of my chest, onto paper and, in doing so, hopefully get it out of my system!

My brother is staying with me until Tuesday, when he goes back to the US with his girlfriend.  I love my brother, and I love how good he is with my boys.  But sheesh, he is a spoilt, entitled brat!

Just a bit of background, my brother is my mother's favourite. Ever since we were young, she would very obviously favour my brother(she claimed, and still does, that she treated us equally, but friends and family all comment about how she dotes on him).  If he even coughed in the morning, she would race him to the doctor, buy all the anti-biotics prescribed and take a week off work to stay home with him.  If I vomited in the morning before school, and then vomited at school, she would leave me there until 3.30pm and then get angry with me for making a fuss.

If he did something naughty, she would apologise to him.  If I did something naughty, she would not speak to me for a week.  She started the silent treatment from the age of 5.  As you can imagine, a small kid of 5 doesn't know or understand why mum won't talk to them.  It's horrible.  I can't ever imagine treating my kids that way.

Why the difference?  My brother was the first boy born in the family for generations.  He was considered by my mother to be the golden child.  The child that would really do something.  So she treated him accordingly.  Thankfully, I had my dad who, although very quiet, loved me unconditionally and helped to ease any hurt I had over my mum.

As we got older, the differences became more obvious.  When I turned 14 years and 9 months (the legal age to work in Australia at the time), she said 'Ok, you're getting a job.  You have to buy your own clothes and personal items from now on'.  Which didn't bother me because I wanted to work.  But when my brother turned 14 years and 9 months, she said he couldn't work because he might get hurt. So he got all the clothes etc, without having to work.

I had to pay for all my expenses once I got to university.  At one stage, I worked three jobs just to have enough money.  If I didn't have enough money, she wouldn't lend me money.  'You'll just have to stay home'.  Since my brother didn't work, he never had any money.  No problem, though.  She would give him $100, $200 to go out.

Over time, I became angry about the differences.  I never wanted the material side of it.  I just wanted equitable treatment and I wanted my mum to admit that she had been unfair.  My dad finally put his foot down one night and calculated how much (roughly) my brother had received over the years, versus me.  It was shocking enough that my mum agreed to give us a half share in a house. 

I'm now reconciled to my mother and her behaviour.  I have my own family and my life is happy.  That is all due, in no small part to my husband, B, who has shown me, over the 10 years we have been together, that I am special and worth something.

Ok, so what does all of this have to do with my brother.  Well, because he's never really worked in his life.  And because he has had everything given to him without him having to do much, he is spoilt beyond what is normal.

He and his girlfriend drink a bottle of wine in the middle of the day.  No problem, they're adults and can do what they like.  But they leave the bottle on the table.  With their wine glasses.  And my laptop strewn amongst the mess.  And walk out the door.  In my mum's house, my mum will happily - gratefully - clean up the golden child's mess.  I, on the other hand, am irritated at the arrogance that a guest would behave so poorly in someone else's house.

They decide to cook some dinner last night.  They make a complete mess of the kitchen but promise to 'do the dishes later'.  They leave their wine glasses scattered in the living room.  By midnight, they are snoring on the couch.  B ends up doing the dishes because, realistically, we have two young sons and we don't want them getting up in the morning to see a kitchen that is filthy and wine glasses everywhere.

We go out for dinner. It comes to the bill time and they both sit there quietly.  Waiting for me and B to pay.  Because my brother has never really worked in his life, he has no concept about how valuable money is.  We have two boys to support and a mortgage.  My parents bought him his apartment and pay for his utilities.  He does work, albeit not regularly.  He sits there quietly, partly because he has no money but also because, in his mind, someone else always pays.  He has no concept of paying for himself.

Don't get me wrong.  IMy brother is funny and smart and a great uncle to my boys.  But my mum has totally crippled him and doomed him to a life of being a moocher.  He has zero life experience skills because my mum has paid to insulate him from reality.  And he's nearly 30!

Wheww, rant over.  If you got this far, you really need to take up a hobby.  ;-p

Unrelated randoms

This post is going to be completely random and all over the place.... hey, I'm in holiday mode.  It's practically the law to be all over the place.

• I'm back up to 109kgs thanks to all the mammoth eating in the last few days.

• As a result, I'll be getting a fill this afternoon at 3pm.

• I am meeting Shaggs next week for pork bunny goodness and, literally, can't wait.  What a great girl!

• I had a discussion with my nutritionist last week that didn't quite go to plan.  Me: I just want to eat meat, all the time.  Her: Well, you need to add vegetables and fruit in.  Here's what I want you to do.  I'm going to challenge you to eat at least two more types of vegetables.  Me: Ok.  And I want to challenge you to eat more meat.  Her: This is not a game.

• I got a new iPhone!  And I loves it.  I loves it so much I'm prepared to resort to the grammar of a 15 year by using the phrase 'I loves it'.

• I am determined to get to 80kgs by the time I fly out to Fiji.  My aim is to be able to sit in the airplane seat without having to touch the sides.

Food P*rn: The Sydney Edition

I'm maintaining.  Not putting any weight on.  Not losing it either.

I'm happy with that.  Whilst my family are in town, there are copious lunches and dinners.  I could fight the food but, really, I spend time with my family once a year (my family live overseas in the US and Europe), so I'm indulging.  Happily.  It pleases my soul to eat with the people I love.

Another two weeks and they will all be gone.  At which point, I will refocus on getting to under 90kgs by the time I go to Fiji in December.  I can do it!  I will be booking a fill late next week to help in getting some restriction

So, we had a fab time in Sydney.  I've added some actual photos of me with Chuffy in the photo gallery (sorry, you have to email me to get access to the gallery - I'm protective of it because it has pictures of me and my family). 

But here is some food p*rn from our trip:

Ice-cream from Cold Rock.  The left is vanilla with mint choc chips (mine).  The right is bubblegum with flake and marshmallow (Chuffy).

Lobster from Saturday night's dinner in Chinatown.  Mmmmmm, lobster.

Yum Cha in Chinatown.  In the picture are scallops, spring rolls, sizzling pork, calamari and tea.

Mmmm, I'm drooling as I type!

My life is very boring

So I'm trying to think of things to write about but have come to the conclusion that my life at present is very boring.  And pretty miserable.  So who wants to read about that?

I am struggling with portions at the moment.  I definitely need a fill and will see my surgeon next week.  Question for everyone: why is it that Tim Tams slide down so easily but fruit gets stuck?  Huh?  I am down to around 107kg so am hoping to break through to 106 for my next weigh in.  I'm very tired of seeing 107 point something on the scales.

On the work front, I have done into a downward spiral about not getting the job.  I did ok for the first week but now I have lost all motivation at work.  As a result, at least one of my projects has derailed.  Albeit temporarily and not a huge problem, but still a reflection that I have lost confidence in my ability.

People at work have said I've lost my spark.  And I have.  Which is why I'm looking forward to my two weeks leave.  I need to step away from the things that remind me that I failed and be with my family (where even if I fail, I'm still loved).

So we are off to Sydney on Saturday.  Little Chuffy is so excited.  He wants to see the cock pit.  I don't know if that is possible, but I will ask the flight attendants if he can meet the pilot after we land.  It will make his day.

Hope you're all doing well?  It seems very quiet out there in lap band land!

So here's the lowdown

So I didn't get the job.  Yesterday I was totally devastated.  Today, not so much.  Life goes on, doesn't it?  Whether I want it to or not.

I just had a bad feeling yesterday morning.  I got called into the Executive Director's office around 11am and told I wasn't successful.  I asked what I was lacking, or what the successful candidate had that I didn't have.  I got an answer that both pleased and infuriated me: Time. The candidate who got the job has been with the group five years versus my tenure of 16 months.

The comment pleased me because I have no failings.  I'm not lacking in technical or leadership skills.  I am ready for the job.

But the comment infuriated me because I never thought my group was about 'time served'.  I thought that, since I had put in a Herculean effort over the 16 months, had really shaken things up and had some mammoth successes, I would be rewarded.

The person who did get it is the 'safe' option.  She lacks leadership strength, hates hard conversations and has even let work overrun by weeks in order to avoid difficult conflict.  But she's lovely.  She's sweet to everyone.  She's the soft option.  The safe option.  There will be no controversy with her. 

Now that I've had a day to think about it, I was never in the running.  My Executive Director has reached his peak.  He is 55 and is unlikely to be promoted again.  He has no interest in sticking his neck out.  He's waiting for retirement.

I am aggressive, driven and am always trying new things.  I have never failed at a project, but I have skated close to the edge a few  times.  Tight rope walking the way I do is not in my Executive Director's grand plan.  He wants people to come in and quietly go about the job.  Sure, the group never moves forward, but it does guarantee him a quiet life.

So, where to from here?  I promised the group they would get two years from me when I joined.  My two years is up in March 2010.  On the day of my anniversary, I will look to churn.  I might churn to another part of the group that is more suited to me, or I may churn externally.  I have a couple of the Big 4 accounting firms wanting me to come across, so that is an option I will seriously consider in March.

As for my band, I have lost a full kg since Monday.  How or when that happened, I have no idea.  I just got on the scales this morning and - voila - 107.8kgs.  Felix works in mysterious ways.  And I'm managing to get a small, but wonderful, portion of dark dark chocolate in a day.  For me, it's my treat.  It makes me happy, but it doesn't seem to upset the scales at all. Win-Win!

Felix and I had our first fight!

And by fight, I mean I that I ate too much, Felix got in a huff and I threw up my breakfast.

I was eating my breakfast this morning - two Vita wheats with cream cheese and a cup of coffee.  Not the breakfast of champions, but delicious nonetheless.

I got that familiar full feeling I've had over the last couple of days.  Feeling uncomfortably full.  But this time, it wouldn't go away.  Even a glass of water didn't help ease the problem.  I didn't get the saliva that you guys get but, after about two minutes of immense pressure and pain in my chest, I start to think 'Could this be it?  Am I about to have my first PB?'

I tried to fight it for another few minutes.  Walked around the house.  Tried to sip more water.  But it wasn't going to happen.

I leant over the couch just for some relief and - peowwwwww - out came the coffee.  Thankfully, I was standing over my plate so it managed to catch everything.

I still wasn't feeling great.  Five minutes later, a small amount of my Vita Wheat and some slime came out.

Isn't it weird how the food just comes flying out.  It's not like a vomit where you know it's coming.  Nor does it hurt coming out.  It just explodes forth.

Now, I'm ok and somewhat chastened by the experience.  Am sipping some warm water and all is going down well.  I guess the real test will be when I have solid food.  I'm thinking that I might have liquids today and try some mushies tonight, just to be on the safe side.

Confession time: I have been overeating the last couple of days.  Eating until beyond uncomfortably full.  It's certainly been mindless eating and not even eating things that I like.  Last night, I even ate three chocolate cookies.

I lost 800 grams earlier in the week but have managed to put 400g back on.  Some of that is water weight due to my monthly cycle (I tend to retain water around ovulation time).  Some of that is pure over-eating and not exercising enough.

I didn't get Felix so that I could deny myself the pleasures of good food.  But the event this morning has certainly taught me that Felix deserves some respect, goddamit.  He can do his job but I don't do mine, then it will be me who bears the brunt.

So I need to stop the over-eating, go back to the three small meals a day and chew, chew, chew. Lesson learned, Felix.

And the whooosh begins!

On Monday, I decided to put my starvation mode theory to the test.

I upped the calories to 1000 per day to see what would happen.  This terrified me but I figured that I couldn't, and didn't want to, survive on 600 calories a day.  That's not living.  And I got Felix precisely because I didn't want to starve myself and get into bad eating habits.

On Tuesday, I was 108.8, which was 200 grams down.

Wednesday - 108.6 - so another 200 grams.

Today - 108.2 - 400 grams.

Which brings my total loss this week to 800 grams.  All by eating more. 

I should mention that I am eating healthy foods (well, aside from that croissant on Tuesday) - proteins, whole grains and vegetables - but I'm still eating at least double compared to last week.  And the weight is once again dropping off.

If I live to be 100, and I seriously hope I don't (hands up who watched The Green Mile - old age is overrated), I will never figure my body out.

On the work front, there is no news.  I don't think I have the job.  Another candidate has had a mighty piece of good luck in terms of winning an award for being a great team leader and relationship manager.  The award was decided before a whole steam of crap blew up in his face (ie formal complaints from our customers about his performance), hence I know my Executive Director is aware that he's not the great manager they thought he was, but the timing is not good for my chances.

I should find out by the end of the week.  In so many ways, I wished they would just get it over and done with.  If I haven't got it, then I re-assess where I'm going and choose a new path.  If I do get it, then it's validation of my work over the last 16 months in this role.

We'll see, hey?

I'm struggling

Urrrgh, I'm struggling.

Still no movement on the scales.  They seem welded to 109.4kg. 

And I'm eating more.  Last night, I demolished a pile of little chocolate chips.  This morning, it was toasted cheese and some sweet and sour pork for lunch.

Felix is putting up a mighty effort, but my brain is beating him every time.

I won't lie when I say that I'm scared.  Scared that I am going to sabotage Felix in the worst possible way.  That I am going to be that small percentage for whom this doesn't work.

I have an appointment with my surgeon next week.  I'm suspecting I will get my first fill then.  Perhaps then I will get some restriction and this won't all seem so hard.

Tell me, wise ladies, did this happen to you between your surgery and the first fill?  Did you struggle?  Did your weight loss slow and/or stop?  I need to hear from the wiser ones rather than listening to my own stupid head that is telling me that chocolate chips are a really super idea!

PS. On the plus side, I've started walking more.  I usually walk to Parliament Station here in Melbourne to catch my train home.  I've now started walking to Flinders Street Station (at least fifteen minutes walk from my office).  So I'm now getting an additional walk.  It's not much but it's a start.

It's a slowwwwwww week

So the mid-week weigh in is depressing.  I've only lost 200g this week. 

I think I may be eating too few calories and my body is going into starvation mode.

I calculated that, being generous with my breakfast and lunch calories, I might be taking in 500 calories by lunch.  I then tend to have a bigger meal at dinner - 300 calories.  So 800 in total, which seems small but is actually enough for me to feel satiated.

Last week, when I was still doing some liquids (ie having a hot chocolate for breakfast, bad me), I was probably tallying closer to 1000.  And losing quickly.

So, yes, I'm buying into the starvation mode argument at the moment.  Either that or my body has gotten used to the measly amount of exercising I'm doing at the moment.  I mostly go for a walk around the block at lunchtime, or try to walk to the station really quickly to get my heart rate up.  So maybe my body is telling me:

'Hahaha, you think you're clever, huh?  Well I'm used to that piddly walk you do to the tram every night and I'm going to PUNISH you by hanging on to that roast potatoe you ate for lunch.  So there'.

As for Felix, we are still very much in love.  I can't really feel him working but I know he is because I'm just not eating as much as I used to.  Now, if he can tell my body to behave and strip the fat, I'll be happy.

'Tis the hump day

So not alot is happening in the land of Boo.

Work is work.  The friend I mentioned in a previous post has now basically declared a silent war on everything Jane.  He's no longer speaking to me at all, and is getting very shitty if I even walk past him. 

I'm no longer hurt as I realise that he's playing a game of trying to psych me out.  It's clear he doesn't want me to get the job.  So he's thrown his weight behind another applicant.  I sense he is annoyed that a) I've applied and b) I'll get to interview stage. 

I had a chat with a Group Manager today who told me that, when she applied for the Group Manager role four years ago, she lost a friend who was jealous / angry etc.  Which made me feel better about the whole thing as I'm now realising that this situation is not unique to me.  It's not anything I've done, other than be competent at my job.

Weight wise, I am still losing, but I am relying more and more on will power rather than Felix.  While I'm doing ok, my reserves of willpower are being depleted.  I reverted to a bad habit last night (I had five tablespoons of icing sugar - there I said it, isn't that hideously disfunctional?) which has scared me a little as I never want to get back to being the person I was at 123kg.  I was hiding food in my handbag. I would wait until B took the dogs out for a walk and then gorge myself until I heard him come home. Heck, I would even get up an hour earlier so I could eat a pizza before work.

But, unlike previous indiscretions, where I would just chuck the diet and go straight back to eating badly, I got up this morning, packed my lunch and am back on track.  I'm starting to realise that Felix can take care of my physical cravings, but that it's 100% Jane when it comes to the mental.

So I set myself up for success today.  Oats for breakfast with honey for taste.  A Weight Watchers carrot cake slice for morning tea (a tiny little morsel of goodness), Vita Wheats with cream cheese for lunch, and another carrot cake slice for afternoon tea.  I'm craving hash browns so I suspect I'll have those for dinner.

My aim is to be under 105kg by the time my parents arrive from Europe in four weeks (my parents retired to France in February but are coming out to do tax returns and to see Chuffy and Boo).  My mother is like many mothers - hyper critical of my weight.  When she last saw me, I was around 115kg.  To be 10kg lighter when she gets here will give her nothing to whinge about.  Which will please me, and just about destroy her.