After a 3 pound weight loss week and a two pound weight loss week, it was a little disappointing to step on the scale and see only a single additional pound gone.  I know, however, that this isn’t a bad thing.

When you first start on a weight loss plan, you’re bound to post some big numbers.  Then, as the plan goes on, those big numbers disappear.  Unlike The Biggest Loser, we normal folks trying to lose weight aren’t going to shed 10 pounds every week.  In fact, that’s just not healthy!

There’s a reason that I chose a span of twenty weeks in which to lose the pounds I want to shed.  Ideally, weight loss should come in 1 to 2 pounds per week segments.  There are some exceptions, but this is healthy weight loss.  So, while it is easy to get discouraged when the pounds don’t go flying off, you’ve got to celebrate the little victories and keep your eyes on the big picture.  Even a single pound lower on the scale readout is a step in the right direction!

This June will be our tenth anniversary.  Of course, we would love to celebrate it with a little trip.  Just the two of us.  B has her eyes set on the Type A Parent Conference.  While that conference intrigues me as well, I have to admit that it isn’t what I picture a tenth anniversary trip to be.

In my mind, we would drop the kids off at B’s parents and head somewhere just the two of us.  In my mind, it would be somewhere within driving distance and lasting just the weekend, yet somewhere that we wouldn’t go if NHL and JSL were with us.  Specifics, though, elude me.

My Aloha Friday question for today is: Where would you go on a tenth anniversary weekend retreat?

Thanks to Kailani at An Island Life for starting this fun for Friday. Please be sure to head over to her blog to say hello and sign the McLinky there if you are participating.

Aloha #72

JSL adores his older brother.  He looks up to and emulates him whenever possible.  Lately, however, this has become a problem.  You see, JSL has been picking up on things that get his brother in trouble and mimicking them.  This is nothing new, mind you, he’s been doing this for as long as he was able to parrot his brother’s actions.  However, in the past, he wasn’t really punished for them.  How do you send a 1 year old to time out for doing something his brother does?

Now that JSL’s nearing 4, he’s getting a good lesson in the meaning of the word “consequences.”  Saying you don’t want to eat what’s been served (after I went out of my way to make you what you asked for)?  Don’t expect to get dessert and don’t expect me to make a second dish.

JSL will see his brother declare that he doesn’t want to eat what’s served and then turn around and demand dessert.  As if having dessert is a right all kids have guaranteed by the Constitution: “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide M&M Cookies to all kids…”

Even though this tactic doesn’t work for NHL (“I’m full.” “Ok, then leave the table.” “I want dessert!” “Ok, then you must be hungry enough to eat your food.”), JSL still sees his brother using the tactic.  And since JSL not only must copy his brother, but out-do him, he turns into Mister Uber-Picky Eater.  Foods that he will scarf down multiple servings of one day will get a reaction as if they were yuckiest dish imaginable the next day.

JSL sees NHL eat his pizza by peeling off the cheese.  So JSL peels off the cheese on his pizza.  However, while NHL eats his cheese after finishing off the crust/sauce section, JSL turns his nose up on the cheese.  The same cheese that he devoured when I gave him a few slices before baking the pizza.

JSL also picks up on noises and phrases NHL uses.  NHL, from time to time, will make an annoying “nyah nyah” sound.  Mainly to JSL, he knows better than to make it to us.  JSL, though, has no such fear apparently.  He “nyahs” at us over and over until he winds up in his bed crying.

You might remember last Friday when I blogged about NHL’s fear of dying.  Since that day, nearly every night as the boys go to sleep.  I’ve had to confront “I’m afraid I’m going to die.”  Not from NHL, mind you, but from JSL.  It’s clear that JSL has no concept of what “dying” is.  Unlike NHL, he’s never known someone close to him who passed away.  All JSL saw is that NHL said “I’m afraid of dying” and Mommy and Daddy consoled him and he got to stay up a little later.  He’s clearly trying to stay awake just awhile longer.  (This isn’t a cry for attention because the “afraid of dying” will come along with repeated drink requests, declarations that he isn’t tired, repeated questions on semi-random topics, and various other delaying tactics.)

JSL can be the sweetest kid in the world.  I love that he insists on being my helper (even when we don’t need help) and I love his “kiss attacks”, but there are times when it seems like “Intentionally Annoying JSL” is out an about too much and taking too many notes from his older brother.

The freezing temperatures and repeated snowfalls have turned the landscape near us pure white.  On one hand, this is very pretty.  I loved taking snow/ice photos before and my new DSLR is giving me some great ones (click to enlarge):

On the other hand, ice in the wrong place can be very bad news.  As snow melts from our roof (thanks to escaping heat), it runs down and freezes at the colder roof edge.  Then, this can drip to the ground, making our driveway an ice skating rink.  There are times that I think I’d traverse it easier with ice skates than boots.  A thin layer of snow just makes it more treacherous as it fools you into thinking the path ahead is ice-free.

Putting ice melt down doesn’t help as the melted ice just refreezes.  We have an ice chopper (long handled instrument of ice doom with a blade at the end), but the ice is so thick that it just laughs as we tire ourselves out.  Even if we manage to remove some chunks, more water drips from above slicking the driveway back up.  It’s a losing battle.

Still, this battle is nothing compared to the Battle for the Roof.  When that ice freezes on the roof, before it drips to the ground, it can form an ice dam.  If you’re unfamiliar with this concept (lucky you), ice dams are ice formations on your roof that block water (from more melting snow or from rain) from running off the roof.  The water backs up, goes under the roof’s shingles and, before you know it, there’s a drip-drip-drip in the house that isn’t coming from a leaky faucet.

In our case, we have a very bad ice dam on our upstairs roof.  Two water leak incidents (one before we moved in and one due to a leaky seal) necessitated the removal of some ceiling tiles.  That, plus poor insulation and their location directly above radiators, means that heat flows out of the rooms and to the roof.  There, snow is melted and it drips onto the roof below where it refreezes.  The piles and piles of ice threaten to back water up or simply damage our roof/gutters from their weight.  I chopped one ice dam back with a hammer and screwdriver (all the while fearing doing roof damage myself), but it reformed.

So, you’ll excuse me for both hoping that the warm weather arrives (so that the ice will melt) and dreading the arrival (as it will mean greater chance of ice dam-induced roof leaks).

One of the easiest ways to sabotage weight loss is to set a single goal and then get frustrated when you aren’t reaching it.  That’s why I’m a big fan of having an overarching goal as well as a series of mini-goals.

In my case, my over-arching goal is, of course, to lose twenty pounds.  However, this could take me months and I wouldn’t want to feel like I haven’t crossed any important milestones on the way.  Therefore, I consider every five pounds lost to be a mini-goal.  (Except for the last one, of course, since then I cross my overall goal.)

This means that I’ve reached the first of my three mini-goals.  I’m now down by five pounds and am ready to say goodbye to that “2” at the beginning of the scale’s read-out.  Since all goals should come with a celebration, perhaps I’ll “treat” myself to a serving of non-fat chocolate ice cream with some whipped cream.  Then again, considering the freezing cold outside, maybe I’ll find a warmer celebratory snack.

On Tuesday night, I tucked the boys in as I always do, got my computer and sat down beside JSL’s bed.  As I always do.  As they always do, my boys decided it wasn’t *quite* time to go to sleep.  Instead, they were going to trot out delay tactics.  NHL said his stomach hurt and I told him it was probably gas and to go to sleep.  Then he said something that made me realize that he wasn’t delaying.

“Daddy?  I’m scared.  I’m scared of dying.”

Uh oh.

To be honest, I think this fear has been in the back of his mind for some time now.  Ever since B’s grandfather passed away nearly four years ago.  NHL was very close with B’s grandfather.  They loved spending time together eating ice cream or Dunkin’ Donuts munchkins.

What NHL didn’t understand was that his great-grandfather wasn’t well.  He had Parkinson’s disease and was slowly but surely succumbing to the illness.  When I first met B, her grandfather walked with the aid of a walker with only occasional trouble.  Eventually, he couldn’t reliably stand on his own for too long.  He would fall over and I would need to rush to B’s grandparents’ apartment to help lift him.  (Lifting a 200 pound man who can’t help you lift himself isn’t easy!)

Eventually, B’s grandfather was moved to a nursing home.  Of course, Parkinson’s is an unforgiving disease and it kept progressing.  Eventually, his mind went as well.  He would be perfectly lucid one moment and talking to me as if it were decades in the past another.

When we last saw B’s grandfather, NHL refused to go near him.  We think he could sense something was wrong.  We were there to say our goodbyes.

In the years since his great-grandfather’s passing, NHL has occasionally displayed an interest in death.  He would talk about death in ways that made adults uncomfortable.  Completely innocently on his part, of course, but still uncomfortable.

Fast forwarding back to Tuesday night, I hugged NHL and told him that he didn’t have to worry.  He mentioned that everyone dies and I agreed but added that he wouldn’t die for a long, long time.  He mentioned being scared about being buried and eaten by ants.  I told him that his soul, the part of him that makes him him, would go to heaven.  This soothed him enough for him to go to sleep.  Still, I could sense the impending bad dreams and repeated awakenings the night would bring.

My Aloha Friday question for today is: Have you spoken with your child about death?  If so, what did you say to them?

Thanks to Kailani at An Island Life for starting this fun for Friday. Please be sure to head over to her blog to say hello and sign the McLinky there if you are participating.

Aloha #71

By now, you’ve probably heard about Amy Chua.  She’s the woman who wrote Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior and the book “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother.”  I’ve already written about Amy Chua’s parenting style over at DadRevolution.com.  So why would I write about her again?  Well, for two reasons.

The first reason is that I’ve learned some new information about the “Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior” article.  Apparently, Amy’s editors took the excerpt that she had prepared and changed it around without consulting her.  In Mother, Superior? over at SFGate.com, Amy says

"The Journal basically strung together the most controversial sections of the book. And I had no idea they’d put that kind of a title on it. But the worst thing was, they didn’t even hint that the book is about a journey, and that the person at beginning of the book is different from the person at the end — that I get my comeuppance and retreat from this very strict Chinese parenting model."

To me, this is huge.  This turns her narrative from one of “I was extremely strict with my kids and you’re weak for not doing it too!” to one of “I was extremely strict with my kids and realized this was a mistake.”  Even if she didn’t completely abandon “the Chinese parenting model” (as she calls it), it is always a huge step for a parent to admit to making a mistake.

Every parent is guilty of not being perfect.  (And the one or two that are perfect are guilty of annoying the rest of us with their perfection.)  However, we as parents need to learn from our mistakes and the mistakes of our parents.  When I first read Amy’s article, I thought “Wow, I have problems with my father but nothing like this.”  Now, I’m thinking that the better comparison is my mother’s mother.

Granny (as she insisted on being called as I called her that once when I was young), was quite… opinionated.  She had her view and was right about it.  Even if she said the sky was red and you said it was blue, you were wrong and she was right.  She also made no attempt to hide that my mother’s sister was her favorite child.  (Even after my aunt ran away from home and was disowned she was still the favorite.)

She also had this way of not raising her voice and yet shredding your self-esteem to pieces until you felt like you were two inches high.  When my father’s dad passed away, my father – following Jewish tradition – didn’t shave for awhile.  My mother’s parents came to visit and, seeing my father in a beard for the first time, said “You look ugly in that!”  My father, in a display of temper-checking that would have impressed Ghandi, said “Hello to you too.”

At one point, my mother decided she had had enough.  She sat her parents down and told them.  She spilled her guts out about all the hurt they had caused and all of the pain she felt from their words and actions.  What did my Granny do?  She laughed.  Apparently, she thought it was funny that my mother felt so hurt.

Some people assume it is inevitable that we become our parents, but my mother taught me differently.  I saw how my Granny acted and I saw my mother actively strive to NOT be her mother.  She learned from the mistakes her parents made and changed.  She did an exceptional job and I’m so happy for this.

When my Granny passed away, my mother was distraught.  Not just over her mother’s passing but because she was expected to speak at the funeral.  For the life of her, my mother couldn’t think of one nice thing to say about her own mother.  Thanks to my mother learning from her parents’ mistakes, I know that I’ll have plenty of nice things to say.  (Still, I hope to not have to say them in that particular setting for a long, long, LOOOOONG time!)

My parents were far from perfect, but they did the best job they could.  I’m not perfect either, but I’ll do the best I can do as well.  I’ll correct the mistakes my parents made, but will also know that I’ll make my own mistakes.  If I see them in time, I’ll correct these.  Otherwise, I hope that NHL and JSL correct them when it is time for them to raise their own children.  Amy’s daughter will hopefully do the same as well.

This weekend was quite eventful.  Not in the big, earth-shattering sense, but in the little things.  By far the biggest change for me was my new glasses.  Last year, to help use up our Flex Spending (and because it had been a few years), B and I each got eye exams.  Our vision had both changed only slightly.  For me, this meant I’m still all-but-blind without my glasses.

Growing up, I was far sighted.  I needed glasses to read but loved showing off how far I could see.  Although, in hindsight, I’m sure I was seeing things that normal kids could see.  Still, it made me feel special.  Then, while bowling one day, I noticed that the pins were a bit fuzzy.  My sight quickly collapsed in on me.  Before too long, I needed glasses if I wanted to see more than a foot out clearly.  I could read without glasses now, but I rarely took my glasses off just to read.

Anyway, I looked through the selection.  Many seemed to be big plastic frames.  I toyed with getting some bulky black ones that screamed “NERD” to me, but thought better of it.  I selected a nice pair and then thought about sunglasses.  I’m used to using relatively cheap clip-on sunglasses.  I would keep them in the car and toss them on when needed.  The combination of needing to use up Flex Spending and a promotional discount, though, pushed me to get a nicer pair of prescription sunglasses.

Fast forward back to this past weekend.  We picked up our new glasses and I’ve been wearing them (or my new sunglasses) ever since.   What do they look like you ask?  Well, here are my old glasses.

And here are my new ones.

Just for an added bonus, here I am in my new sunglasses.

“The future’s so bright….”  Sorry, had an 80’s moment there.

Do you wear glasses?  If so, do you have dedicated prescription lenses or do you prefer the clip-on variety?

Last week, I began my 20 pounds in 20 weeks challenge.  So how did I do?  Well, my first week weigh-in was 202 pounds.  Since my initial weigh-in was 205 pounds, this means that I am down by 3 pounds.

I ate a lot of salads during the week.  I have to admit, I usually like salads, but I wasn’t feeling the salad-love.  For some reason, a big pile of greens with very little dressing on top just didn’t make my mouth water.  So what was my secret?  Bacon bits.  Well, imitation bacon bits, actually.  (Remember, I’m kosher.)  Turns out that 2 servings (14 grams) of these are 1 point and this is a LOT of imitation bacon bits.  The only problem is that we’re running through bacon bits quickly.  We add them to egg whites (with dried onion flakes) as well as to our salads.  NHL has taken to liking them as well.  BJ’s used to have large containers of kosher, imitation bacon bits, but it looks like those were discontinued.  Now, I’m searching for another bulk source.  It’s getting expensive buying lots of those small containers.