A Case For and Against Detox

As you might know, Brandon and I planned to detox throughout the month of January after happily indulging in all things sweet and fermented for the month of December.  It only seemed right to respond with the same or more fervor about diet as we had given toward gorging ourselves with holiday treats.

We started off well.  I think a solid week went by in which we adhered to our own strict guidelines (based primarily off of the Whole 30 plan). Then, a new wine bar opened in Ashland.  

Maybe you missed this news because you are so fascinated by yet another post by me about eating. 

THERE'S A WINE BAR IN ASHLAND.  In Ashland, Ohio.  I'm not kidding.  It's called The Happy Grape, and it's so lovely.  You must go.  

Which is what I did, two days in a row, the first day because it was opening day and when something as wonderful and unusual appears in Ashland, Ohio, you have to be there for opening day, and the second day because Brandon and I required a detox-free date night.  That particular day came with a whole host of heaviness, and we needed to unload.  We went to our favorite restaurant, The Cabin, and then ventured to the Happy Grape for dessert.

After date night, there were nights I got home at 5:30, and Brandon knew he was leaving for work the next day, and there weren't any leftovers left, and ooooh wellllll, order a pizza.  And then there were football games and friends, birthday parties and potato salad and cupcakes, and we partook of all that is good and sweet and fatty and alcoholic.

Here at the end of detox January, I am declaring our detox a brilliant success.

Because not once did I say to myself, What do you think you're doing?  You can't eat that! nor did I whisper to the little troll that controls my appetite, Okay, little troll, since you've failed today and permitted yourself these two slices of pizza, you are free to give up, you failure. Go sit in the corner and be quiet. It's no use.

Neither of these thoughts occurred to me because it's just food.  

We are a culture of extremes.  Starve yourself!  Stuff yourself!  Be the Biggest Loser!  Food is King!  Worship food!

But I say, stop idolizing food.  It is fuel to keep your body running.  In order to operate with the most functionality and wellness, to run with the fewest belches and rattles under the hood, the body needs to eat good food.  

You know crunching through an entire bag of chips and eating all of that cream and drinking all of that alcohol and indulging in all of those desserts isn't good for you.  It might taste good, initially.  It might feel okay, at first.  But then there's the gurgles, and the rumblings, and the gas, and the indigestion, and the heartburn, and the headaches, and the hangovers, and the 2 p.m. slump.  This is your body saying, I hate this!  Stop doing this to me!  

The body appreciates when we don't make it work extra hard to digest stuff that isn't natural; it runs best on certain types of food.  And when the body is running best, it stops being an uncomfortable distraction, allowing you to focus on other areas of health and wellness.

The body isn't just a piece of machinery that needs a particular combination of oil and transmission fluid and gas in order to work.  The body is also emotional.  The body is also thoughtful.  The body is also spiritual.  The body is also relational.  The types of food that you consume should not dictate or trump the rest of your body's needs.  Celebrate with those who celebrate!  Enjoy the company of friends and their delicious chocolate chip cookies without beating yourself up over it, but remember that your little troll can still say okay, that's enough now, two cookies is probably plenty. Go drink a glass of water, you sugar addict, you. 

Health is about more than just diet, and trying to extreme diet 100% of the time is the same sort of dysfunctional behavior that drives the appetite to eat whatever it wants.  Health is about exercise, and social interactions, and worship/prayer/meditation, and recreation, and sleep.

But health is also about diet.  In spite of the many pierogies and cookies consumed by me in December, in general our daily diets are clean.  I'm not tempted by soda anymore.  We have raw honey and maple syrup handy for sweeteners but otherwise we don't add sugar to much.  There's no dairy except sharp cheddar and greek yogurt in the fridge, and it's been so long since we've had pasta or bread in the house that it doesn't even cross my mind to buy it.  When we go to the store, we mostly perimeter shop, spending most of our time in the produce section and lingering for a few minutes in the meat section, mostly waiting for Henry to stop staring at the lobster tank.  

So when we determined to "detox" in January, the intent was not a radical modification of our existing lifestyle.  It was simply a good opportunity to reset after a season of much celebration, of much sweetness and thick pierogies and desserts and drinks.

Now, we're back to eating mostly meats, fruits, vegetables, nuts, oils, and seeds, eating until we're full and satisfied.  We're back to bi-weekly date night and the occasional glass of American Honey or wine to relax and enjoy each other's company.  We're back to Friday night pizza night.  If there are 21 meals in a week, two to three of those meals might fall out of the healthy category.  When those meals occur, the little troll doesn't get the night off.  He simply sits back for a couple slices of pizza until the ticker tape runs that says, I'm full now but I just love the way this tastes, and then he flashes his warning signal.  Time to stop now.  It was good, but don't make yourself sick, silly indulgent person.

So as the good King Solomon said once, Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for God has already approved of what you do.  

Status Update: TLDR

I learned a new Internet abbreviation this week, TLDR, as in "too long, didn't read," which has me all kinds of sad because, well, here you are on my blog that by design goes "on and on and on."  I am the definition of "long-winded." 

Before you click away from this page after adding "TLDR" to the comments section (which has never happened to me yet), the following week in review is going to be a bullet list because all of us in any kind of field that requires marketing know that bullet lists are the only way to deliver content to a generation of overstimulated Internet users.

I had a really good week, by the way.

• Wake Up Time: I didn't have to use my alarm all week long because of this guy to the right. Upon reading the Mary Oliver poem "Why I Wake Early" on Writer's Almanac, I composed this little poem, "Why I Wake Early" in response.
• Work: Even though I'm now back to a five-day work-week like most of the adult world, I only had to work four days this week due to Snowmafreezebrrgeddon 2014. I shared this "Template for the Brief Bio" on Wednesday.
• Writing: Besides these cheeky things, life in messay land was mostly sunny this week. (Watch out, this is where the bullet list goes crazy, indents and everything)
• The spring semester of the Ashland MFA program started this week, and I am working with the fabulous Jill Christman this term.
• I started sharing some marriage-based essays with The Good Men Project, including these two pieces, previously appearing here and on Brevity:
• After the Storm: A Better Love Story
• Field Guide to Resisting Temptation
• My poem, "Night Swim" circulated through the Every Day Poems newsletter
• Writer friend Kate Hopper interviewed me on bearing witness, faith, family, and writing on her blog Motherhood & Words
• Last night, I heard from the fabulous editor at Full Grown People that "Know True Love Ways," an essay about dancing with my dad on my wedding day, will be published over there.
• Rejections and success seem to come in waves, and this wave is much appreciated after a couple of months of rejection slips.
• I hit the landmark 5,500 tweets on Twitter, a rip-roaring 770,000 characters of wit, sarcasm, and links to wit and sarcasm. That's kind of an embarrassing landmark. Maybe I should delete it.
• Welvis: My husband is off for nine days straight. Hallelujah!
• Whole 30: BW and I started our detox on Sunday of this week, and I'm happy to report that my pants are starting to fit right again, the 2 p.m. slump is going away, and I'm back to sleeping like a rock. We don't eat poorly normally, but a brief detox period (30 days) right after the holidays is a good reset for me after letting my food impulses rule throughout December. And there's also all that American Honey and whiskey I was drinking...
• Words with Friends and Candy Crush Saga: I continue to butcher and be butchered by "friends" on WWF, and now, I drift off to sleep with visions of red jelly beans switching with yellow lemon drops in my head. I'm on Level 50. Someone please uninstall these apps from my phone and Kindle.

How was your week?

Resolution Time!

Here's a tip for next holiday season: It's probably a bad idea to eat leftover pierogies every day after Christmas through the New Year. Maybe this wouldn't be such a big deal if it wasn't also coupled with nut roll. And baklava. And buckeyes. And other delicious calories consumed the last two weeks, all of which I do not regret. Well, I regret it a little bit. Approximately ten pounds of it. 

I'm not too worried about it, because it's RESOLUTION TIME! Wooooooo!

The last couple of years, I jumped on board the resolution train. I love lists. I love goals. I love benchmarks. (I love lamp.) The ritual of checking in annually with life and its measures seems like kind of a good thing, like an annual physical. How's your blood pressure? What did you hope to do last year? What do you hope to do this year?

Top of my list right now is to detox. Brandon and I are planning on doing the Whole 30 again, and I am so excited. My favorite part of the Whole 30 is demonstrating to myself that I do indeed possess self-control, and I am capable of exercising it whenever. For real! No, Swells, you do not need to eat that piece of chocolate, because you have self-control. No, sweetheart, you do not need to drink that glass of wine, because you have self-control.

It will also feel good to fit in my jeans the right way.

Besides trimmin' up the ol' spare tire, it's also been something like two months since the time changed, so I guess I have to stop using that as an excuse not to exercise. Last night, I broke out the Lift Like a Man, Look Like a Goddess book and started Round One again. Boy, am I out of shape or what. What a disappointment to be almost back to square one (I say "almost" because I still managed 20 regular push-ups, which is way more than I could do before *roar*). But this, too, is manageable; after all, I've done it before and I know the rewards. What's there to lose?

In 2013, my resolutions were far less quantifiable than 2012, but I did set the goal of blogging every other week, and I am pleased to say thanks to my daily advent blogging, I wrote an average of once a week. Outside of December, it was closer to three times a month. So, for 2014, I think I'll aim for once a week again. The MFA thesis is well on its way to looking like something more than a collection of typed pages, and I don't think it's an unreasonable goal to write more blatherings like this one in 2014.

Here's a few more things I hope to pull together in 2014:

• Read twelve books (one a month? totally manageable)
• Cut debt in half (We are SO BAD at this. People, you know that self-control thing I was talking about above and how fun it is to exercise it with food? Well, we're real lazy with this one. But if you don't set a goal, there's nothing to aim for, right? Here's to 2014 and debt reduction! *meow*)
• Finalize the MFA thesis. I kind of have to do this by next December. Yay! Something I'll be able to check off!
• Read through Book Two, Three, and Four of the Harry Potter series with Lydia

I know I said I was done with pierogies in the New Year, but there are a few leftovers from 2013 I hope to maintain in 2014:

• Maintain sanity
• Pray and give thanks daily
• Remember the promises given by God in the Bible and remind my family about them regularly
• Continue preparing healthy meals for my family
• Go out with my husband once every two weeks
• Play with my kids
• Expand the garden
• Go on vacation (Disney! Sea World! Yee!)

I think that's enough. And, if/when I fall short, there's always this:

Looks like 2014 is going to be a good year, folks.

2013: Resolutions - Walk Instead of Run

2012: My Thirtieth Year

2011: Harry and Henry

2010: Key West Bound and Lydia-isms

2009: Happy New Year

Boy, I've been at this thing for a while now. :)

Advent Day 24: Empty Tree Syndrome

I fought the impulse to keep buying things for our kids this year. They have so many toys and so many family members who love them and want to buy them gifts, too, but at the same time, we don't want to seem like the Grinchiest parents on the block.

Last night as I wrapped the last of the gifts and filled the stockings, sliding what we bought intentionally, with each child and each tradition we've established in mind (Christmas PJs, books, and ornaments), I panicked and experienced the phenomenon we might call ETS or "Empty Tree Syndrome."

My mom is afflicted with this disease. It is a common condition often contracted this time of year, and unfortunately there doesn't appear to be a cure.  It is unclear whether the disease is bacterial or viral, but I suspect with more research it will be determined to be genetic.  I've conducted a brief case study (with two generations of women), and the results seem conclusive: genetically transmitted.

There is one primary symptom that manifests itself prior to Christmas day.  If you hear this sentence, "But it looks so empty!" an intervention must take place immediately or the patient will be out the door, purse in hand, to find more things for under the tree. Any things.

One of my goals to battle against ETS, which stayed in remission until last year when we had a little extra cash and a lot of Christmas spirit, was to pick out one large package for each of my children that would take up extra square footage under the tree.  Another strategy I employed in 2013 was to jam the tree into the corner next to a large chair, thus reducing the floor space available for presents, creating the illusion of a much larger pile of gifts.

In these things I was successful, until about 10 p.m. last night.  All of the gifts were wrapped.  I slid them one by one underneath the tree, stacking the tall things on their tall ends to give height and breadth to the pile.  I stood back and thought to myself, "But it looks so empty!"

Knowing the early signs of an ETS outbreak, I quickly returned to the sofa and drank some wine, keeping the pile of presents out of my peripheral vision.  It was too late to get out and buy more presents.  I began to regret the decision not to buy a few more things, just a few more things.  Brandon has been ill and, if not for that would have bought a few more things, which would have filled out the tree and made the pile even bigger, even better!  As we climbed the stairs, I worried a little that our children would be disappointed this morning.  I reminded myself that we made reservations at one of Disney's resorts for next summer, and that this gift presented this morning would be something to look forward to for the next six months.  This helped to curb the symptoms of ETS, and I slipped into sleep.

This morning, we came downstairs and Lydia began to survey the presents and the stockings, eyeing tags and feeling the foot of her red stocking.  She grinned, "Mom!  There are so many presents!  I thought you guys were going to get us just one!"

ETS might be genetic, but apparently it can be resisted and overcome, with time and effort, and a little lower expectations instilled in the next generation.  Besides, we will be going to three more Christmas parties in the next week, where the symptoms of ETS have manifested themselves in many, many brightly colored packages that are certain to bring glee to my three sweet children.

Merry Christmas, all!

"The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth." - John 1:14

Advent Day 22 and 23: Seasonal Weed and Feed

Even though there are plenty of ways we abuse the Christmas holiday with Black Friday and doorbuster sales and buy one get one and layaway and credit card debt, I can't imagine ever abandoning the tradition of giving gifts at Christmas.

Last Christmas, I had something akin to superhuman energy and assembled a dozen or so homemade Christmas gifts, and as I finished and wrapped each one, I got more and more excited for Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, when the gifts would finally be opened.  There were also a bunch of presents bought that I knew would be a surprise and a delight.  Maybe my grin and giddy sofa-dance of anticipation even topped the recipient's joy.

This year, however, I had zero thoughts of making Christmas presents, zero ambitions to top or meet last year's measure of creativity. Instead, constant on my mind this season was a longing to damper any motivations to buy gifts out of a place of obligation: This is just what you have to do at Christmas. Buy other people things.  Meh.

If you've been reading along, my Christmas spirit meter has been somewhere between "Bah, humbug," and "HO. HO. HO." most of the month.  It doesn't take long for whatever melancholy, darkness, or gloom that has seeped in to spread its tentacles into the whole of the holiday, strangling joy and sinking its bitter root deep into the season.

But the desire to find the perfect gift for someone else is like Weed and Feed - it kills the bitter root and plants joy in its place.  Gift giving is an expression of love and friendship, an opportunity to plant in someone's hand tangible evidence of affection.  Sometimes the gift is much needed.  Sometimes the gift is extravagant. Sometimes it is clear that the giver thought long and hard about the gift, regardless of expense.

But the difference between an obligatory gift and a meaningful gift is significant to both the giver and the receiver.

The magi traveled long and far to deliver their gifts of deep meaning to Jesus. Theirs was a sacrifice of time, talent, and treasure. Embracing the challenge to try to find meaningful gifts this season broadened my vision beyond the Scrooge-iness and lapse into blind consumerism. That more specific focus on others allowed some of those seeds of joy to take root, so that now, I am ready and eagerly waiting that magical time Christmas morning.

"Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, 'Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.' After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route." - Matthew 2:7-12

After the Storm: A Better Love Story

Tonight as I wrapped Christmas presents for our family, I watched Serendipity, a movie in which two characters, John and Sarah, meet one Christmas, separate and then spend the majority of the movie looking for each other whilst being engaged to be married to other people.  They chase fate and destiny in order to overcome their circumstances and find their reputed "one true love."

I love this movie, especially its soundtrack, and I found myself a little weepy eyed here and there.  It's a lovely, romantic story, one that makes a case for Providence working everything out just so. Love in the Time of Cholera with her number in it is wrapped in gold foil and given as a groom's gift, the $5 bill with his phone number on it is exchanged for change on a bill at the very same restaurant they dined in, engagements are ended, weddings are called off, and then, the glove floats through the wintry air and lands. Happily ever after.

But I know a better story.

It is about love chosen, over and over, in spite of temptations, in spite of moments of selfishness and pride, in spite of career changes and lifestyle shifts and dreams put on hold.  It is mercy given when judgment might have been due.  It is understanding and forgiveness and grace in the face of remorse and mistake.

Brandon and I are only a decade into this love story, and yet we have weathered several storms, some stronger than others, some that shook us down to our very foundation, some that left us helpless in each other's arms and others that caused us to ask each other, "Do you want me to leave?"  Incredible highs.  Nearly disastrous lows.

And yet.  Tonight, I wrap Christmas presents to Lydia, Elvis, and Henry from "Dad and Mom," not because some magical force swept us together over a decade ago and has held us there since.  Not because we are surviving each other for our children's sake, holding on and playing the part of husband and wife until some age in the distant future when maybe they'd understand.  Tonight, I wrap these gifts and inscribe them with "From Mom and Dad" because somewhere inside us we choose to love instead of judge.  We choose honesty and vulnerability instead of pride and secrecy.  We choose to lay down ourselves and look to each other's needs and interests.  We choose to support each other in our weaknesses and encourage each other in our strengths.

This Christmas, I am humbled to be the recipient of such love.  It is the kind of gift that survives against all odds, rare and true and pure and beautiful.

I don't mean to brag about this at all in a "we made it and you might not have" sort of way. But grant me this moment to celebrate: we've made it so far!  So far, we've made it.

Marriage is not easy, and there are plenty that fail, some because they should have never happened in the first place and others because it's just plain hard.  There's no doubt that forces within and removed from us will continue to rain down their threats in the years to come, and I pray to God that when they do, we are each able to conjure up enough faith and grace to forgive and continue to love each other with a "one another" kind of love.

It's in the power of that kind of love that all things can be redeemed and renewed and thus shine with a glorious light unlike any we might produce through our own impulses and pursuits.  With each storm, the places where breaks have formed are welded with the heat of a refiner's fire, and that bond is stronger than the base metal itself, forever changed, stronger and tougher than ever before.

Advent Day 21: We Are Outraged!

It is the darkest day of the year.  Folks in the northern hemisphere will see just nine hours and thirty-two minutes of daylight today, and if you are here in Ohio, that light is blocked by a thick layer of clouds and rain.  

Time is short to spread the light, to let the light shine in your windows and on your Christmas trees, to let the light leak out from underneath your front doors and into the world.  The light shines in the darkness. The darkness has not overcome it.  

It has tried to overcome it plenty of times.  Daily we have evidence of the darkness trying to quell the light, and yet the light prevails.  How does the light prevail?  By practicing the virtues and characteristics that have overcome darkness for millennia, acts borne from love that grow into the fruits of joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, and self-control.

Instead, our fruit looks like self-righteousness.  Judgment.  Materialism.  Indignation.  Christians protest all kinds of things lately. We are outraged, just outraged.  These criticisms and statements are not light.  They are the shadows we make when we try to stand in the place of the light.  Where there ought to be a window to let the light shine through, we erect a wall.

Weigh our outrage against the fruits of the Spirit, the Sermon on the Mount, the definition of love, and the many other passages of Scripture we seek to defend the preaching of in order to determine if our outrage is justifiable.  Is it?  

Because that is the kind of light that is revolutionary.  Love for the weak and the persecuted.  Help for the hungry and poor.  Mercy for the criminal and prostitute.  Grace to the undeserving.  

These are the threats to society that make the darkness tremble. 

"When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born. 'In Bethlehem in Judea,' they replied, 'for this is what the prophet has written:

'But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for out of you will come a ruler
who will shepherd my people Israel.'" - Matthew 2:3-6