The Silver Rule?

Today is one of those days when I wonder what happened to the saying, "If you cannot say something nice, do not say anything at all."

When did we, as a people, stop supporting one another? When did we begin shooting down other's efforts to better themselves? When did it become offensive to choose a different dietary path than the one with which a person was raised?

What it really boils down to, for me, is why others judge first and close their minds to new foods rather than asking questions or sampling new foods before forming their opinions. If one does not understand my choices in food, ask me about them. I have worked very hard to study nutrition and cooking techniques in order to make healthy and great-tasting food. I will not feed guests in my home foods I know they do not like, but I also expect them not to ridicule my choices in food for the rest of my family.

Junk food is not "normal food." My children are not suffering. They do not live some sort of sad existence where I only feed them dandelion greens and parsnips. They do enjoy eating organic foods a lot more than they ever did processed foods. They do learn about new vegetables and from where their produce came. They do take part in preparing meals. They do feel better and act better.

Good nutrition is not a form of punishment to others; it is essential to clean living. At some point, I hope that our extended families will accept that we are just living our lives in the way we deem best and not in defiance of them; they never entered our decision matrix. It was not as if my husband and I looked at each other and said, "What can we do to our diet that would offend and impose upon our families the most?"

Eating organic, mostly-vegan food just feels right. I love the way I feel, I love the way I look, and I love the clarity of thought I have now. This is a choice. MY choice. This is me.

Thirty-Five Already? Sure

Thirty was a difficult milestone for me.  Really difficult.

I thought thirty-five might be difficult, too, but it has not been.  So far.  It has only been one day since I turned thirty-five, so I will have to give it more time to settle.  

Perhaps thirty-five sounded more ominous a few years ago, because it signifies a distinct difference in care during gestation and delivery of a child.  Perhaps that is the reason why it has not been too difficult, because I am done birthing children.  Perhaps I have accepted my thirties and their benefits, because I feel great.

Ten years ago, I was ready to give birth to my first child, weighing in at nearly 250 pounds and losing muscle mass along the way.  I was in good shape underneath, but I had put on quite a bit of weight.

Four years ago, I had four children, I weighed in at 270+ pounds, and I had very little muscle mass.

Today, I still have four children, I weigh somewhere around 240 pounds (and dropping), and I have more muscle than I ever have in my life.  I can do push-ups and planks and run and bike and lift weights and all sorts of athletic activities.  I have never felt better in my life!

This is why thirty-five is going to be a year of celebration in my life.  A year to focus on continuing my quest to be as healthy as I can be.  A year to start my masters degree that will help me to pursue my life's passions: music and education.  A year to watch my daughters learning about food and how it affects every aspect of their lives.  A year to grow in my relationships with my Savior, my husband, my children, my parents, and my friends.  A year to celebrate.