Frustration

I have heard so many wax poetic that the obesity epidemic in the world today is directly related to a lack of physical activity. Others claim the cause is poor nutrition and lack of self-control. If either, or both, are correct, what is wrong with me and those like me?

Let me paint a picture of my week:

• I do one hour of intense Zumba Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
• My husband and I take at least a 2-mile walk 5-7 days per week.
• I drink over 100 ounces of water daily.
• I drink a soy milk and green superfoods drink every morning.
• I eat a primarily vegan diet with the occasional chicken breast or hamburger added to the mix. 
• Our home is dairy-free and, mostly, gluten-free, thanks to Celiac Disease in my husband and second daughter.
• I spend Tuesdays and Thursdays on my feet 10:00 am until 4:00 pm, teaching college mathematics.
• In addition to teaching math, I also teach clarinet and flute lessons on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays.
• When I teach all day, I drink a vegan meal-replacement shake and eat a Clif Bar for lunch.
• I have four daughters, a husband, an orange furbaby, and a home to tend.
• I play in a woodwind trio, woodwind quintet, and orchestra.
• I am planning a solo clarinet/chamber music recital.
• I practice one hour or more daily.

My point? I am far from lazy, I do not overeat, and I eat pretty healthy food.

Why, then, am I gaining weight instead of losing? I suspect a few culprits:

1. A healthy body requires at least eight hours of sleep per night, and I am averaging just under seven right now.
2. Weight training is missing from my routine.
3. My stress levels have soared this semester.
4. Although I eat heathy foods, and not too much of anything, I do still have a bit of a sweet tooth.
5. Hormonal fluctuations that are not being adequately subdued by my current medication.
6. Asthma that is not as under control as it used to be.

My plan is to start with the first item on my problem list and work my way through them until I discover what is stopping my weight loss. I have lost it all before, and I can again.

So This Is a Mid-Life Crisis?

I have read stories and heard of men leaving their wives of 10-15 years for a young gal and a fast car. That's a mid-life crisis. 

Or so I thought.

Here I sit at the age of 37, once one of the best high school clarinetists in the world, once considered the only Differential Equations tutor on a campus of 20,000-plus students, once a person sought out for her opinion and expertise, once one of the most successful private clarinet teachers in the entire Twin Cities metropolitan region.

Once.

Now, I am teaching remedial mathematics to adults. I literally teach middle school math to adults during the days. Without a masters degree in mathematics, the community college for whom I teach will not allow me to teach the very same courses I have already tutored or taught at two universities. I was hired to teach, yet I am handed a script for what to say and how to teach. My students attend only 25 minutes of actual lecture time per class, and the remainder is spent in a computer lab. Yes, we are "teaching" students with math anxiety or math phobia by online lessons and computer-based testing. Sure. Because that will work. Imagine me rolling my eyes obnoxiously at this point.

The other, typically primary, source of income and fulfillment for me is my clarinet studio and performance business. The state of my current studio is just sad: I have two students right now. Two. And one is not paying me. Sigh. I teach lessons on alternate weeks, which is a policy I was specifically against when running my very successful studio in Minnesota. I just do not have a choice. I went from nearly thirty students per week plus a wait list in Minnesota to one paying student twice monthly in Maryland. I just did not expect this to be the case.

On the plus side, several band directors have been quite excited about the students I do have, and they want to send me many students. The main problem is that most of these students want to just go to Music & Arts for lessons. I am now considering turning in my résumé to Music & Arts in order to get my studio filled. Another plus: Music & Arts is hiring. Crossing my fingers and praying that this will work. Performance income is non-existent, at this point. I am beginning to sort out to whom I need to become associated in order to get paid playing jobs in the area, but it will take time.

Since my clarinet studio is struggling, I have been researching what it would take to earn a masters degree in Applied Mathematics at one of the local colleges or universities. So far, I have learned that a Masters in Applied and Computational Mathematics from Johns Hopkins University would cost nearly double the same degree from Harvard. HARVARD! After looking into the program at the University of Maryland-Baltimore County, I was informed that I would not qualify for their Applied Mathematics program because of a lack of pure mathematics courses during undergrad. That makes sense. The eye-rolling thing again. 

So, I find myself at a loss as to what God has in store for me and my intended direction or vocation. Music is my passion. My life. Teaching music is the majority of that passion. I feel lost without a full studio. At the same time, I adore teaching math and seeing that realization dawning on the faces of those most challenged in mathematics. It feels wonderful to have a community of coworkers and friends at the community college, too. As a self-employed business of one, I have never really felt that sense of belonging at a work place. Well, I felt mostly that way when I taught at Groth Music in Minnesota, but I did not actually work for the store. 

The most stressful part of not being successful right now is the financial impact my family is feeling. Living in the Baltimore/DC area is ridiculously expensive, so we have made sacrifices: Our idea of vacationing is visiting a place where we can stay with friends or family, eating out is reserved for special occasions only, the kids cannot take music lessons or dance classes yet, sports are limited to those we can work into the budget easily, and more examples than I can count. While I know we are teaching our children financial responsibility by not using credit cards or taking out loans and living within our means, I feel guilty that it is my fault the girls cannot have certain things their friends have. Now, I do not want to spoil my children, either, but it would be great to actually take my kids to the movies instead of waiting for the movie to be available to rent at home, for instance. The girls do not need the newest iPhone on the market, or any iPhone, for that matter, but I would love to give them a single pair of jeans or a shirt that they want when their behavior merits a reward. 

I guess my take on the mid-life crisis is feeling like a massive failure. So, for those people wishing for me to fail at something in school, I am failing at nearly everything these days. I got sick and could not exercise for most of the last year, so I have put on weight. Failure. I am teaching remedial math to adults at a community college for a day job, and I have no career growth possible for the future. Failure. My studio is a disaster. Failure. I am moody and standoffish, so I am not being a very good wife. Failure. I have been yelling more at home and finding myself with much less patience as a mom. Failure.

What I am not failing at right now is humility. I have no choice but to humble myself before God and seek His divine plan for my future. I am not failing at loving my husband. I am not failing at loving and supporting my four girls and teaching them important life lessons. I am not failing at being a good friend, I hope. I am not failing at teaching math to the best of my abilities.

I need to focus on my successes and not my failures, but some days I just cannot stop and see the silver linings. Today has been one of those days where I feel like I just keep failing myself, my God, and my family. Instead of dwelling, I am cleaning, organizing, and doing my best to keep my mouth shut and only say positive words to my family. Where do I go from here? I have no idea, but I know it will require hours of prayer and following God's path for my life. He would never leave me feeling hopeless and without purpose in my life. 

Resolutions

Okay, resolution time:

1. Continue to praise God every day with my actions and intent. 
2. Continue my journey to great health. 
3. Finally get back to scrapbooking regularly. 
4. Finish more projects. 
5. Learn to say, "No."  
6. Catch up on blogging and my website posts.

Number one seems like it should be easy to accomplish, on the surface, but focusing my thoughts on always being the type of person that pleases God is quite difficult.  You know that moment when you think, "Why is she wearing that?" or "Wow, that is not being a good parent," or "Why do others have so much when I have so little?"  Those moments of thought are the ones that do not follow God's word.  Those thoughts are judgmental and covetous.  See?  It really is difficult.

Number two is definitely happening, because I love the changes I have made and seen in myself over the past twelve months.  I am in much better health than I have been since my late teens, and being strong is so empowering.  Eating strictly vegan dishes, instead of mostly-vegan, cutting down the sweets (again), and not eating after 7:00 pm (again) are my first objects to tackle.  In addition, I have decided to change up my exercise routine a bit in the hopes of kick-starting my weight loss again.

Number three has been bothering me since we moved to Maryland.  In Minnesota, I cropped regularly (at least monthly) with a fantastic group of women at a local scrapbooking store, but I have yet to find such a place in Maryland just yet.  Have I really exerted much effort in the search?  Not so much.  My fault?  Absolutely.  Will I be rectifying this situation in short order?  Definitely.

Number four has been a personal challenge and cause for several years now.  I am horrible collector of ridiculously creative ideas and materials that never get used to their fullest potential.  Chronically.  The bulk of this trait can be referenced back to number three above.  I love resolutions that build on one another.

Number five is, by far, the single most difficult task ahead of me.  I love making people happy and spending time with others, which leads me to over-schedule my life sometimes and over-extend myself quite often.  I need to learn to say no in a kind and considerate, yet firm, way.  Please have patience with me while I endeavor to perfect this necessary balance in my life, friends and family.

Number six is all about procrastination and lack of desire to remain stationary for very long.  Someone should author an application for blogging via voice.  Boy, would I love to multi-task this way by blogging while on the treadmill at the gym.  Oh!  How about a treadmill or stationary bike with a built in tablet?  Now, who is the genius?  This gal.

30 Days of Gratitude: Day 15, aka Fifty Shades of Wasted Time

As I posted today on Facebook, I need to refocus my trust in God to provide what we truly need, so I think it is time to start up some thankful posting.

Today, I am thankful that I have so much classic literature in my personal library. With all the less-than-stellar popular novels out these days that don't seem to have been edited at all, I love that I can turn to Twain, Steinbeck, Shakespeare, and the like to help right my literary world once more.

**Disclaimer: Not only does this review contain spoilers, but it is not intended for the younger members of my audience.  Adult subjects are included in this review.

A dear friend shared some sage advice from her father, a writer: Never read a book written in first person.  I wish I had heard that advice before I cracked open this book.

I read the first book of the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy at the suggestion of several friends, including the one that lent me the book.  Is this really what tops the New York Times bestsellers list these days?  Do none of the publishing houses require editors any longer?  Has society become so out-of-touch with reality that we are supposed to believe (1) a reclusive, 27 year-old billionaire with the body of Adonis, (2) a nearly-22 year-old virgin without strong religious beliefs that is apparently super smart and beautiful, (3) this book was written by someone other than a wildly inexperienced, fourteen-year-old girl with less than average writing skills and a completely screwed up idea of what romance is?

No, it is not the first time I've heard of BDSM--I blame all the crazy artistic types in my life for educating me on all the darker things out there--and it did not surprise me that Christian was into it.  Wait.  I am getting ahead of myself.

For those who have yet to read this book, let me get you up to speed: Ana's roommate gets the flu and cannot attend an interview, so she sends Ana in her place.  Ana and Christian Grey hit it off in the interview, he basically stalks her, and she falls for him.  He does not like to be touched, he is moody, and he buys Ana all sorts of crazy gifts.  They have a lot of sex, and he has a room of BDSM gear that Ana calls "The Red Room of Pain."  They have more sex.  He makes up rules and ignores them.  She cries.  They have more sex.  Anna's roommate dates Christian's brother, Christian rescues Ana repeatedly, and she allows him to tell her what to do.  How very 1950s, right?  Oh, and they have more sex.  She wises up and leaves (for all of five days, but they still end up getting married in the end, I have heard).  The end.

Problem number one arose quite quickly: if Ana's roommate had worked for six months to garner an exclusive interview with a multi-billionaire, she would drug herself enough to forget she had the flu and do the interview anyway.  She most certainly would not pawn it off on an inexperienced non-journalist.  Obviously, this interview and its subject were very important to her, and if she persisted in calling his office daily for six months to request the interview, a little sickness would not deter her.

Problem two is the writing style, or lack there of.  The beginning and end of the book could not have been edited by the same person as the middle, because there are major grammatical errors and a sophomoric level of vocabulary.  Ana constantly refers to her female genitalia as "down there."  Are we to believe that a book labeled with a mature content warning would lamely refer to genitals as "down there"?  In the middle, she improves slightly, and I mean slightly, by referring to her genitalia as her "sex".  So, the author is comfortable writing about penetration with a riding crop but not with the words "clitoris" or "vagina"?  Sigh.  

While the overall vocabulary, grammar, and style improve in the middle, the same phrases and actions are used ad nauseum.  Ana constantly mutters, "Jeez," Christian frowns, Ana bites her lip, Christian runs his hand through his hair, Ana rolls her eyes, Christian's demeanor changes on a dime, Ana wants to touch him, and Christian does not want to be touched. Yes, the sexual encounters are written fairly well, but all but only two or three of them even include any part of BDSM.  Most of the trysts are normal sexual encounters, albeit a couple of them involved tying Ana's hands together with a tie (so cliché).  After finishing the book, I still find myself wondering why BDSM even entered the picture.  It came across as more of a novelty, really.

Problem three is really a small issue, but it irked me beyond reason.  While Ana and Christian are speaking with each other in the hardware store where she works, she introduces him to her boss's little brother, a Princeton student.  The first words he utters are, "Wait up."  Seriously?  This young man attends Princeton, and I am supposed to believe that he would say, "Wait up — not the Christian Grey?"  Apparently, the ridiculously high level of writing skills he needed to apply to and be accepted by Princeton do not translate to his speech?  A good novel includes just enough plausibility to keep the reader interested.  At this point, I found myself scowling at the book. 

Problem four is the character of Anastasia Steele.  First of all, that name.  Really?  On top of that, I am lead to believe that Ana is nearly-twenty-two, beautiful, brilliant, and a virgin.  Okay.  I am assuming strong religious beliefs will enter the picture, but they do not.  Hmmm.  This is sounding less likely.  She has not even touched herself at that age?  This is getting a lot less believable.  She has multiple orgasms on her first sexual experience and every single time after that?  All plausibility just went down the drain.  Gone.  Done.  This is ridiculous.  Did I mention that she can orgasm on Christian's command?  

Problem five is the character of Christian Grey.  I am expected to accept that he is twenty-seven, has the body of a Greek god, and is a billionaire.  I found myself still wondering how he got to be a billionaire at the end of the book.  Apparently, he can play the piano beautifully, masterfully choose wine, and hock Apple, Blackberry, and Audi repeatedly, too.  Sure.  My husband and I joke that he is really a vampire, which is how he learned so much and got so rich.  Considering that Fifty Shades began as Twilight fan fiction, it would fit.  I digress.

On and on the list goes, which is why I am so thankful that I can turn to masterfully-written pieces of literature to right my slightly askew brain.  I have never been so happy to crack the spine of my Twain short stories collection.  Thank you to all my wonderful English teachers that taught me to value the classics.

Ouch! Anyone For Leftovers?

Last night, I learned my lesson the hard way.  Again.  This time, I learned that I should always, always taste new ingredients before putting them in my recipes.

Dinner last night was intended to be a soy chorizo and black bean stew, cooked in the slow cooking for eight hours.  Either my soy chorizo from Trader Joe's was a heap spicier than the soy chorizo I picked up at the organic market last time, or I added too much chipotle chili powder.  Either way, the kids and I had to switch over to leftovers or cereal for dinner last night, because the stew made our mouths, throats, nose, and eyes burn.  It was that hot.  Oops.

A good friend suggested adding agave nectar to cut the heat, so I will try that when I re-heat (pardon the pun) these leftovers for my husband this weekend.  Here is hoping that it works.