The Mystery of the Missing Muffin Top

"Hi, my name is Southern Gal Abroad and I am a Carboholic.  It's been two days since my last confession.  I...have a guilty conscience.  I couldn't help it, honestly.  I ate..half a muffin..and I hate it too!  I was nauseous from not enough dinner combined with my morning thyroid meds and had to eat something.  No other cheating though, I promise!"

Okay, so I cheated.  I am human after all.  The fact that I have not divebombed into the chocolate section of the local grocery store speaks of strength I did not even know I possessed!  But, seriously, I am enjoying South Beach so far.  Aside from the headaches (I cut back from three cups of coffee a day to one) and nausea (yeah, no clue, stupidity on my part), and the general eerie feeling of deja vu I had while pregnant in my first trimester with both girls (NOT PREGNANT NOW!  Similar feelings), my energy levels have increased.  Yesterday I made Herr Hubby take the car into the city (and park far, far away from anything that might remotely hit the car on accident) and used the rare beautiful weather to walk around 2km to get Wild Child from kindergarten and Girly Girl from the bus stop.  After a small break, I walked another 1km with girls and Pooch to let them get some fresh air and the dog to get some exercise.  Of course my calf muscles hurt today, but another 1km walk this morning with Pooch and our visitor, Dumbkopf (my in-laws dog, she isn't actually named Dumbkopf, she's actually very sweet, just, well, dumb) to let them get some air before it started pouring down rain.  Upon putting on a pair of my "mommy jeans"(you know, the ones that are really high waisted and supposed to slim you but really just give you a wedgie and a muffin top?) when I realized something was different.  Okay, still had the wedgie issue, I always have it when wearing boyshort cut with them, BUT my muffin top was gone.  I looked down, around, under the bed, and "poof!" it was gone.  Hunh.  Okay, Girly Girl did tell me yesterday I looked thinner, but I just thought she was trying to sweeten me up to get ice cream (which I have not touched, so, ha!).  Today will be an inside day so I'll have to get on the exercise bike for twenty to burn off some calories.  Soon I can have a morning snack (Laughing Cow Light Cheese Wedge with some celery, actually good combo) and then see about planning the rest of the day.  Cravings are subsiding and I can't help but feel a giant sigh of relief on that one!  Tchüß, y'all!

It seemed like a good idea at the time...

I must be going nuts.  Started doing South Beach, which is actually quite lovely. I had a wonderful breakfast, figured out during snack time I hate the taste of raw celery but choked it down anyway, and managed a fabulous lunch of broiled fish on a bed of blanched spinach with a bit of homemade balsamic vinaigerette thrown in.  Why am I crazy?  Here's the thing, the German culture is immersed in bread.  I'm serious, breakfast usually consists of Brötchen (think dense dinner rolls with seeds and nuts baked in, very good) with whatever meats, dairy, jams, etc. you want on them.  Then you would typically have a warm lunch, usually with potatoes as a dish, and then have Abendbrot for dinner.  Abendbrot is bread for dinner with meats, raw veggies, and what not thrown in on the side.  Granted, America is the land of the wraps and sandwhich, but I generally think we aren't as bread dependant as other countries are.  We Americans, and Southerners, usually have three warm meals a day, which is time consuming and can be expensive when using fresh produce.  Here, the convenience of quick cooking is not a concept that has really caught on.  When I moved to Germany, I taught myself how to bake from scratch, learned to cook without using soups as a staple for sauces, and threw myself into the kitchen whole hog.  I would like to think I have managed to merge both cultures into a nice way of cooking. 

That being said, this no carbs for two weeks thing is the pits.  So is the no sugar.  I tried to be sneaky this morning, no sugar or sugar substitute in my coffee, just low-fat milk.  My brain threw the brakes on that pretty quickly.  I could feel my inner child putting her put down and saying, "but I want it and I want it NOW!"  I have had a headache, apparently a sign that your body is recognizing lack of carbs.  Lots of water is going into my system, still requiring me to have a mental picture of where all bathrooms are at all times.  I should be proud of myself, withstanding the urge to stop at the bakery in town this morning and drool over the morning selections.  Instead I had a friggin celery stick that made me gag. Seriously..I gagged. 

I did manage to get on the exercise bike last night and will do that again tonight.  I hope to throw in some yoga (yes I do think of Wii Fit Plus exercises as being yoga!!) in the morning to get my blood flowing.  Wild Child was eating a piece of candy a bit ago when we dropped Girly Girl off at a friend's house and then looked at me, chomping down on her candy, before saying, "This is soooo good.  *sigh*  Too bad you can't have any!" And then she grinned, she grinned.  She's so very evil.  Okay, so she's four, but still, signs of impending doom are there, right?  Off to drink another glass of water and hope that tomorrow will be easier than this one.  Getting to a lower weight is a b****.

Dieting is not in my vocabulary...normally.

Okay, so, I need to go on a diet.  I'm short, only 5.1 1/2 and that extra half an inch is the love of my life.  I also have back problems with four of my upper vertebrae being open.  I had to have this surgery towards the end of my pregnancy with Wild Child, resulting in temporary paralysis and a slew of health problems that have mostly been resolved.  However, I have been warned that having extra weight on my frame will cause lower back problems, making my upper back even weaker.  Sooooo...I've been feeling gravity pull at me and I don't like it.  So..gasp..I'm going on a diet.  I'm going to try the South Beach Diet.  Have ordered the book on my Kindle and the cookbook, which should get here tomorrow.  Though I plan to "start" tomorrow, I have started pre-starting today.  Meaning..oh lord...never thought I would say this..no chocolate, no sugar, no bread, no pasta, no rice.  And, you know what?  I'm hungry..and bitchy.  Sigh. It's for the greater good, I know, but I'm still hungry.  I've had my 30 pistachio nuts for a snack and a piece of turkey wrapped in low-fat cheese.  Okay, so I had one teeny-tiny Reese hearts because my mom shipped them to me and not eating them would be like throwing money away.  What's that?  Give them to my kids?  Are you nuts?  Lost your mind?  I could but chocolate for Wild Child is like crack at a rehab clinic, not GOOD.  She runs around the room, pupils dilated, mouth flapping ninety to nothing, leaving a trail of paper and Legos in her wake. I usually also find a few Barbie shoes underfoot the next morning before I've had coffee, not a good start, folks, not a good start.  Okay..so I'm going to eat an early dinner tonight, drink another glass of water with a slice of lime (already had a liter and a half and all I do is peeeeeeeeee!) and when I want to snack while watching NCIS and Mentalist with Herr Hubby, I will make myself a cup of tea with no sugar instead and sulk in silence, leaving Herr Hubby to think, "What did I do now?"  More reports to come as I South Beach my way to a better, healthier me.  Although, Lord help a world with me in it without me having chocolate...just warning you.

Self-Affirmation for the Less Self-Involved

Life often deals you curve balls, phases that have one thing coming after another that leave you breathless in a sea of worry, trying to find your way to shore.  Where I grew up, it was always said that rough times were a way of God testing you, to help you reaffirm His love for you.  Though I am a long way from the Bible Belt and home of the Southern Baptists, I still find, most unexpectedly, those roots winding deep within me when I least expect it to be there.

I am having a "testing time" or rough patch.  It happens often for women.  I read in a study that where men will go through one mid-life crisis, a women is usually guaranteed to at least go through three or four. Am I going through a mid-life crisis?  Hardly.  But, I do have several acquaintances who seem to be.  They are all in a group and, over coffee one morning, talked about their self-affirmation disks they play twenty minutes before getting up.  You might ask what a self-affirmation disk is. It's a person on a cd talking in soothing tones about how, "you are a strong person, a beautiful being," and "grasp your inner strength and breathe deeply to remind yourself of your inner power," and things of that nature.  I tried not to laugh and settled for a smirk.  Even on my worst days, I do not need another person, being, or voice, to coax me out of bed to deal with the stresses of life I have created for myself.  I just get up and go, I always have done that.

This morning, however, was a self-affirmation of its own, a self-affirmation for the less self-involved, if you will.  It is Picture Day at Wild Child's Kindergarten and she was overjoyed to be allowed to get gussied up (I love southern expressions, forgive me) and was able to pick out her jewelry to accompany her outfit.  Girly Girl does this on a daily basis, so, really, it was normal for her.  Herr Hubby needed the car to drive to his new company to present himself officially to his new colleagues.  Now, we live in a small village, a dorf, tucked away in the countryside, away from a train stop or normal bus routes.  I knew I would drive Wild Child the two minute drive to her pre-school and then come home to walk with Girly Girl to the bus stop.  Our lovable furball of a dog is healing nicely from an ACL tear and operation and would accompany us. 

Germany in spring is a sight to behold.  After months of dark, cloudy days, little to no sunshine, bare landscapes and cold winds, the golden rays of sunshine we are blessed with along with the beginnings of color cannot help but make spirits soar, even mine on only one cup of coffee and bedhead tamed with a headband.  Here's the tie in to my southern roots.  When I was a little girl, my mom worked as a supervisor in a shirt factory for many years and we lived next door to Gran.  I would get up early, while the sky was still pink and gray, and walk next door to my Gran's house to spend the day there while my parents worked.  Gran, for as long as I can remember, has walked two miles in the mornings.  In the summer, she would walk around the time daylight was becoming stronger and the temperatures were usually cooler.  She did this before breakfast and I would accompany her.  Though spring in Germany is fantastic, there is nothing more magical than walking in a small southern town to the song of birds and the smells of warming honeysuckle, dewed flowers, and magnolia blossoms perfuming the air as you slowly glide past.  For me, these memories are more valuable to me than any amount of money could ever be.

True, my Gran taught me a lot in life, Christian values, self love, and the appreciation for others.  What she might not realize is, she also taught me a way to self-affirm, if you will.  To slow down and enjoy the snapshot in life God has given you and tuck it away tightly next to your heart to pull out when most needed.  As I walked with Girly Girl this morning, that hard lump of disappointment and frustration slowly started to dissolve as I listened to my oldest daughter name plants she learned in school, as the dog panted with happiness and exertion, and as a beautiful Friday morning starting wrapping me in its embrace.  I thought back to all those summer mornings and literally felt the blanket of dis-ease fall from me and I slowed my pace to enjoy.  For, you see, I don't need someone to tell me life is great, I am strong, I am powerful, I know this already.

One of the things I miss most about raising my children on a different continent from their American roots is the fact they won't be able to experience those slowly warming summer days like I did with my Gran.  She just turned 85 and, though blessed with relatively good health, she cannot last forever.  I aspire to take my children back home one summer and let them form these memories to tuck away for the future when they need them most.  As parents, you have to learn how to be happy with yourself before you can teach your little, impressionable children that life can be hard, it can be disappointing, but, with the right tools, you can make it through any situation with your pride, dignity, and self-worth still intact.  Not all of us are blessed with a Gran, I will always be thankful to the Lord for giving me such a loving, sweet, caring person in my life.  As I sit here with my home smelling of coffee, the sound of birds communicating and my dog snoring all around me, I feel at peace and know that no one can tell me how I am as a person, I have to self-affirm for myself.  May you also find your own self-affirmations within you.  Never let anyone else tell you who you are, for only you can fix yourself. 

Are You Serious?

I have to say, there is something nice about being a twenty-something American living outside of the States.  I get to view my culture from an "outside the box" kind of perspective.  Something else I have to admit to is my absolute confusion as to why the "kids" (can you really call them kids anymore?) from Jersey Shore are such a fascination not just to Americans, but to the world in general.  Is our generation so starved for intellect that we want to be remembered in decades to come as letting these boozers be the spokespeople for our generation?  I'm sorry, but just the thought of seeing the blood results from "The Situations" physical markup for an STD test is enough to make me squeamish, much less to think that people voluntarily spend their precious free time tuning in to watch this throwback to the Neanderthals get wasted, get laid, tan, do laundry, and workout over and over and over and over again.  Okay, so maybe a fight or a random blow job falls in the picture to "spice things up" but that's about it folks.  No wonder foreigners snicker at Americans behind our backs and call them uneducated. How can we complain?  We have a chick named Snooki as being an international rep for our culture.  Okay boys and girls, let's get busy and, I don't know, read a book, volunteer for a charity, or just learn about someone else's walk of life.  You're damned sure more likely to learn something from that than a scene of "the crew" in a hot tub.

Conversation Fauxpas

When I think back to my first two years here in Germany, I realize that there were just as many funny moments as frustrating.  I arrived here with a six-month-old baby in the middle of winter, with no knowledge of German (well, the bad words don’t really count).  For the first month, we lived with my mother and father-in-law in a small dorf outside of Kaltenkirchen.  It’s hard to adjust to a new culture, country, and language when you have the feeling you are more guest than anything else, so that single month was spent learning German basics and trying to be a model daughter-in-law.  I mostly learned what German housewives did during that first month, as that was what I was to become in the upcoming years. 

 The next few months were spent commuting back and forth to Hamburg and Kaltenkirchen to language school.  I learned a lot about the difference between village life and big city life on those trips.  Every train ride was a new experience (remind me to tell you about the drunk guy on the 7:20 train composing his own theme music) and I soaked it all in.  In the afternoons, after school, I watched Sesamstraße (German Sesame Street) to get new vocabulary and to train my ears to hearing a simpler form of German, a tip a friend of mine gave me when she moved from China to the States in the late 80s(although, to be honest, she still has a fear of birds thanks to Big Bird). 

 I have so many awkward, funny moments and language faux pas stuck in my head that choosing one is a feat.  For instance, to this day, I refuse to talk about weather in German when it’s warmer and muggy because I always, always mix up the words schwül (humid) and schwul (homosexual).  My mother-in-law still gets a tickle out of this; though I’ve now been here seven years and, at this point, the joke should be getting old.  The one that does stick out the most in my memory is my first visit to my Frauenarzt here.  My German had been bare basics and at this point, we had been here six months at most.  She asked me about something and all I really caught was the word verkehr (She had said geschlechtsverkehr, or, intercourse).  “Wow,” I had thought, “weird time to ask about traffic, but, whatever.”  So, considering it had taken me a while to get there because of traffic, I responded, “So much traffic!  In fact, I can barely move at all!  And all those people!”  I looked up to see the most horrified look on her face until it dawned on her what I was talking about.  When she explained what she had meant, it was my turn to be horrified because, for a moment there, my Ob-gyn had obviously thought I was a swinger.  

I could have given up after each embarrassing encounter, but if I had, I most certainly would not be the person I am today.  From each of these moments I learned how to laugh at myself, learned how to relax, and gained a bit of self-confidence each time I caught myself in time to prevent another disastrous conversation.  I’m not completely fluent, but I am now just as comfortable with my German self as I am with my American self and I think that’s what matters most.    

Learning to Live

I have to admit, being an expatriate in a foreign country is hard.  You tend to feel like the oddball out a lot of the times.  I live in a small village where most of the families have roots, which I can completely relate to, as I come from a small southern town.  However, I am not only an outsider, but a foreigner as well, which takes oddball status to a whole new level.  As a result, I gravitate towards other Americans to get a sense of balance and feel true to my upbringing and inner self.  As I put in my very first post, I am a young mom.  I had my oldest daughter at twenty years old and, though some find that appalling and irresponsible, I was able to welcome that child into my life and let her work her magic to mold me into a better person not only for myself, but for her as well.  Because I am young and married and a mom, I rarely find people my own age in the exact situation.  There are very few twenty-somethings with school-aged children living in Germany close to me.  Instead, I have mom friends who are older than me, some only mid-thirties, most late-thirties to mid-forties.  In some cases, even one good friend will be turning fifty soon and she has teen-aged children.

Because of this age difference, I tend to get talked down to as being young and inexperienced in life because I chose to have my children early whereas some of these women chose career first, family later.  There is nothing I despise more than the "wait until you are older and have more experience" speech.  I'm sorry, but that's a huge pile of..well..you get the idea.  In 28 years, I have experienced a post-Vietnam vet father go through his struggles with his own mental health and struggle with alcohol, the loss of a sibling through suicide, a life-changing health crisis that almost left me paralyzed, and a move to a different part of the world.  And this isn't enough wisdom?  Come on, folks.  To add insult to injury, a very close friend of mine recently decided (after going to a self-help seminar) that she needed to phase me out of her life because I give off "negative vibes".  This from the women to whom I drove when her cat died, watched her children when she was in need of help, and tried to be there as much as possible when it was needed.  Now, I am not even deserving an explanation to the cold shoulder.

I once read that men will go through one mid-life crisis, whereas women will go through several. I believe that, as we have so many hats and roles we put ourselves into, but, come on, get your shit together, girl.  I know this comes across as negative, normally I tend to find humour in the situation when life gives me a tricky phase, but even my humour isn't black enough to bounce back from, essentially being told, "you are nothing, not even important enough to be told when you are disposed of like trash".

So, sweetheart, take a page out of your own self-help book and realize that in "phasing out", you are becoming exactly what you are avoiding becoming, toxic.  Chew on that.