Health and Wellness

Loving my body.

I feel very uncomfortable being called inspiring when it comes to my body. My mind, my faith, my writing, even my family…they can be inspiring, but not my body.

Why is that? Because I have a horrible self image. I believe myself to be a fat girl. I have always been the biggest of my three sisters. I have been teased as a child, adolescent, and adult because of my weight.

So I got a message from a friend the other day. She has been following me on facebook. She knows I started running again and she wanted me to know that I am her hero and that I am inspiring. It makes me cringe to write those words in reference to my body, even though I have read her encouragement at least ten times.

She wants to know how to start. She is sick of being over-weight. I feel 176% unqualified to answer her. In fact, I don’t really know what her answer is. I don’t even have full confidence that I can keep helping myself in this regard. Every day is a battle for me. I truly believe I have a less severe form of food addiction and every day I am still battling it. I don’t have all the answers for me yet, how in the world can I help someone else?

I have been on a self-discovery journey for a few years now. It started with just getting to know my past and my emotions and has advanced to making changes. My body is a place that I needed to change. I don’t know if anyone can heal physically without first the emotional healing.

I can’t even describe my whole journey. I am inadequate to express the process. So, I don’t know what to tell you. I wish I had the magic words to motivate you. I wish I had the magic words to make Oreos less appealing also. That would help me out a lot.

However, I do have three tips.

Number one. Get real. What is really going on with you? Why do you loathe yourself? I promise you that inward there is some self hatred. That was what made the final decision for me to start exercising. I really made it a matter of prayer about how I could change. My answer wasn’t anything I expected. My answer from God was a question. “Alice, why can’t you love yourself like I love you?” When I started really pondering that question I felt empowered. The master of the Universe loves me. He loves me even when I don’t love me. Shouldn’t I love myself as well as he loves me? And isn’t the way that I am treating the temple he gave me a huge indication of how poorly I am doing in the love department? If you really don’t know how to do this for yourself, I highly recommend using the 12 steps in your own life. The LDS church puts out a great manual, and the steps can be used by anyone to apply the atonement in their life and make lasting changes. The fourth step is a really great tool at getting to know yourself. Years ago, I became acquainted with the 12 steps for my codependency, but I truly believe that the principles I have learned there have been greatly beneficial with my body image also.

Number two. Just start. One step at a time. After I had my spiritual awakening (which I am still in the middle of – still figuring out) I made a promise to myself that I would get started. I’ve done all the calorie counting many times in my life, so this time I wanted to focus more on getting strong. I decided to go back to where I was when I felt strongest. It was back when I was 17 and running every day. I decided that I would once again run…no matter how hard it was to get there. I set a goal. I could barely run a lap. I decided that in two months time I could at LEAST do a 5k, even if I had to walk it. I would try my hardest to run it, but I would walk it if I had to. No matter what, I was going to do it. And I did it. I ran the whole thing. It only took me two months to get in shape enough to run a 5k. I surprised myself. I was way stronger than I thought I was. In the process, I got to see the me that God loves. All along the only thing keeping me from doing it was myself.

Three. Get real again. Don’t set yourself up for failure. Everyone says that a person should exercise first thing in the morning. I would always fail because I am NOT a morning person. Figure out how to make exercise doable for you. It has truly become a break for me. I like exercising in the afternoon. I decided my older kids could watch their baby sister after school two times a week for an hour. It’s the least they could do for me when I do so much for them. (Again I had to love myself enough to believe this to really be true – all part of the journey) A lot of the time the baby is napping and it isn’t a big deal. I only run three times a week. On Saturday my husband does baby duty. It has been working just fine for me for 6 months. 6 months. Wow, I didn’t realize it had been that long. I kind of feel proud of myself. See! See, how I just wrote “kind of: ?Downplaying!  That is what I do when it comes to my body. So excuse me while I say, “I am damn proud of myself.” I hope the Lord will forgive me for taking up the d word for a bit. It helps me get through to myself.

So I guess my answer is this. It’s a journey. An old Latin saying is “know thyself.” Knowing thyself is a journey that everyone should take. It’s scary. It’s actually totally debilitating for a lot of us, but it is so worth it. Because really, you are amazing. You are loved by the Supreme Creator, the Father of all. He wants you to love yourself like he loves you. The only way you can love yourself is to figure out how you don’t love yourself and change. The change starts in your mind.

So, I like to sing to myself when I get unmotivated. You’re gonna love me. Sometimes I just have to fake myself out. I have to tell myself that I am going to love me on the days that I know I don’t. Here’s your soundtrack. Get started. You won’t regret it.

The best thing about being at the bottom is that it gives you more reason to be pleased with yourself. Other people are worried about getting to that 8 minute mile mark. I am fighting against nobody but the couch. If I get off the couch I win. When you have neglected yourself for so long, the only way to go is up and out. Every time you get on the treadmill you feel like a rockstar. It’s totally awesome. I want that feeling for you. I have only lost 20 pounds. I mean I have lost 20 pounds!!! Amazing. See how that works. It’s all in the mind.

Book Review – Lunch Wars

This was a paid review for BlogHer BookClub but the opinions expressed are my own.


Read to the bottom for a chance to win this book.


Lunch Wars: How to Start a School Food Revolution and Win the Battle for Our Children’s HealthLunch Wars: How to Start a School Food Revolution and Win the Battle for Our Children’s Health by Amy Kalafa

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I went into the book LunchWars with a bad attitude. I was flogging myself for my stupidity in willingly volunteering to review a book on nutrition. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that nutrition is not at the high end of my priority list. I grudgingly slogged through the first two thirds of the book and then something inside me changed. It’s not that I am on the same page as the self-proclaimed granola-head author Amy Kafala, but somewhere in the pages of the book I realized that I had been taught some important morsels of nutrition principles that I should be using with my own family. I don’t want to go on all day and I also don’t want to worry my hubby with the idea of going all-organic (would never do that to my grocery budget) but let’s just say there are three things that I am going to try and do better: avoid corn syrup and lessen sugar intake, introduce even more whole grains, and try to incorporate more locally grown fruit and veggies.

That being said, I don’t agree with this LunchWar revolution in the least. I have taken major slack on the BlogHer discussion boards, but I don’t care. It’s not that I want kids to starve or to continue to eat bad foods, it’s just that my political views are conservative. I don’t think that we have an obligation to feed our school children the highest quality of foods at the tax payer’s expense. A lot was said in this book about how it is financially easier to make changes in the schools where the majority of kids are on free school lunches and it made me cringe. No matter what changes are made, someone is going to have to eat the cost difference in these menu changes: the government will do so for the needy and those who aren’t free or reduced lunch qualified will eat the difference for themselves and the government.

I normally have my kids take lunches the majority of the time, but when it doesn’t happen because we are too rushed or the household is in real need of groceries, I appreciate having a relatively inexpensive option for my kids. I don’t care if their pizza is processed or their fruit is canned. I don’t need the highest quality for my own kids ALL of the time, and I most definitely don’t need it for other people’s children. It comes down to the bottom dollar for me. The reason my kids take lunch in the first place is because it’s cheaper.

I need a book club forum to get out all of my opinions about LunchWars, but I will spare you all the details. I could talk all day about school gardens, food culture, how health-fanatical people think they are superior (including the author who boasts of her kids not needing medications like her unhealthy counterparts), schools serving three meals a day, depletion of US soil and farming, nature deficit disorder, and the fact that we should only eat beef or milk from cows who only graze on grass or chicken and eggs from cage-free standards. Instead, let’s just leave it at this: I find the main premise of this book hypocritical. The author complains that our schools have turned our students into customers in the lunch room and then turns around and justifies making customers out of them in the name of financing the organic changes she sees as absolutely vital for all.

Amy Kafala is a Democrat. I am a Republican. She didn’t say so, but I guarantee you that she is as blue as they come. [What is so bad about Ronald Reagan’s idea of using ketchup and relish as a veggie counterpart to save the tax payers 6 billion a year? It’s ingenious!] Amy Kafala thinks that our kids should not have birthday cupcakes. I resent that the government has regulated the crap out of our schools. It’s their regulations that got the cafeterias all screwed up with their single servings in the first place. I long for the more simple days when kids got to help the lunch ladies cook and scoop out the servings for their peers. Amy Kafala is making a profit with this revolution. I am just a mom trying to find the right balance between cost effective and nutritious for my family of six.

Oh, and I hated my fifth grade teacher Mrs. Maclvein (I can’t even remember how to spell her name, I disliked her that bad.) All she would allow us to eat for our school parties were Triscuits, veggies, and juice. I am not saying that it’s a bad thing to eat nutritiously. I am just saying lighten up granola-heads. I don’t know how people live like that 100% of the time, and where they get off telling everyone else that we need to be like them too?

Last word: go ahead and drink the chocolate milk kids. It’s milk. It’s chocolate. It’s perfection. And you aren’t going to get it at home.

View all my reviews

I will be giving this book away to a lucky commenter. Leave me a comment on this post with your best nutritional tip and I will enter you to win. One winner will be chosen on Halloween…just in time for you to eat all the candy guilt-free before the book arrives.

I hated that neighbor who gave away apples at Halloween every year.

Wolverine through and through
For you readers who aren’t familiar
with Utah,
last week was The Holy War.
That means that the holier than thou team BYU
got spanked by the rebellious Utah Utes.

I have a few suggestions for the team’s improvement,
inspired by photos of my kids and their cousins.

Maybe before their next football game,
the BYU Cougars
should go to The Bean Museum
for some inspiration
on their animal instincts?

They could learn to stare down and intimidate their opponents.

Charge like an ostrich.

If all else fails they could just be silly
and hope some laughs could get them some yardage.
Blending in may get them better results.

Or even crouching beneath the other team.

Maybe they just need some glasses?

Or maybe they won’t play any fair opponents at all
because they are just like helpless little mice.

How about this great idea?
We should just lock all the players in the elevator with our kids.
That might give them some better training then they’ve been getting.
Our future BYU cheerleader still looks good
even though she just experienced 
two great defeats in the same week:

BYU’s  54-10 loss,
and a broken arm.

Poor Sophia.

Maybe the Cougars could change their mascot
to something a little more fierce
that can actually beat a Ute?

Did I mention that we aren’t really BYU fans?
Go Utah Valley University.
Everyone knows that Wolverines
are better than Cougars,
and usually a little more humble.

If you agree with me that UVU
is the best higher education
in Utah,
or you just loathe BYU,
how about you like my blog on facebook?
Look to your right sidebar.
You’re one click away from being my newest fan.
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Quite possibly the funniest photo of all time.

Go here for a real good laugh.

If you liked this, please come back
and become my 139 or 140th facebook liker.
You can even do it with one click on the sidebar.

Pretty please with sugar on top.

There may or may not be a prize involved.

And never make the mistake of leaving your cup on when the photographer shows up.
Or if you do, please share the result with the rest of us so we can laugh at you like you’re an idiot.

Scenes from the Utah trail
We were going to go on another
family bike ride for
Family Home Evening
last night
until we realized
it was a bad idea
because of Sophia’s broken arm.

So, we had Abigail give a lesson instead
from True to the Faith.
She had to do it for Personal Progress.
Might as kill two birds with one stone.

She taught us all about
modesty and profanity.

Abigail was sure to look in my direction
on that second one.
Damn semantics.
I can’t do it all.
And my pet sin is
an occasional swear word.
Didn’t it work for
J. Golden Kimball?

And really
what is the difference between
saying DANG or DAMN?
Go ahead,
feel free to enlighten me
and judge me
and tell me how evil I am.
I am such a horrible mother.
As evidenced by dinner
being served at almost
8 p.m. last night.

Whatever you do,
make sure and tell your kids not to read
my blog.
I would hate to be a role model.
The thought of it makes me cringe.

Sorry for the tangent.
Back to the bike ride.
We love riding in Utah.
It’s our family hobby.
And oh so much fun.

Check out the view
and tell me you don’t want to join us.

Yep, those are two deer,
right up the road.

Abigail said
“Mom, look,
it’s the kind of tree
that every kid draws.”
Only  seen in Utah
and children’s doodle books
in your part of the world.
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P.S. Biking is a great cheap source of entertainment.
And, did I mention great exercise?

Camping at Nunn’s Park
One really great cheap summer/fall activity is camping.
I think we pulled off this excursion
for the price of $15 for the site (group rate)
and $20 in groceries.
(It helps a lot to combine efforts with other families.
We didn’t share our smores though.)
If you don’t have the gear just borrow some.
I love living in the state of Utah
with all its camping abundance.
I LOVE CAMPING!
I can’t wait until all of our kids get old enough
to start backpacking.
There is something so relaxing about
leaving the rush of the world
and entering God’s country.
Nunn’s Park is so close,
we took full advantage
when a bunch of our neighbors
planned a great excursion.

This is how we do camping in Utah.
Warning:
Picture overload.

Good food is a must.
Scones are a local delicacy.
Thank you to Marilyn
for setting up shop.
And to Marilyn’s hubby
for all the frying.
Good stuff.
But you must buy the honey butter in the squirty jar.
mm mm good.
Don’t try cooking the scones
in the tent.
It’s not a good idea.

Before the sun goes down,
everybody needs to hop on their bikes.





















You don’t want to miss out on the local beauty.


This one is called Bridal Veil Falls.

The kids always love anything 
that includes water and rocks.

Of course there is more than one kind of beauty
that needs admiring.
Kick back and enjoy the campfire.

Smores are a must.
.
The kids love the tent so much that they don’t mind going to bed.






Of course camping is a lot more high tech than it used to be.
But some of the perks of camping remain the same.
Like mom and dad in their own tent.
Alone.
Of course I wasn’t talking about THAT.
 You guys have such dirty minds.
Campsites are a lot closer than they used to be.
Which is why you will get your clothes back on,
get out of your tent at 2 am,
walk over to the camp full of 100 Spanish speakers
squeezed into a site made for one family,
and ask them nicely to keep it down.

In the morning, you wake the kids up at the crack of dawn,
and put them to work!

Don’t go without your favorite sausage.
And if you invite Colleen Gleason,
she will make the biggest best batch
of homemade pancake mix that you have ever seen.
Being the mother of 7 has it’s qualifiers you know.
Feeding the masses is very important.
Seriously, I mean to get her recipe.
I will share.
All kinds of grain.
And scrumptious.
She makes one big food bucket
and just adds water as she goes.
She says she used to use a bucket in two months.
When all her kids were at home.
I think I could give her a run for her money
with just four kids.
Of course because I would have to eat three pancakes
from every batch.
We plan to do a lot more camping.
Now that we are free from humidity and all varieties of bugs.
I laugh that Utah mothers actually carry around bug spray.
Are you kidding me?
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My Body is A Temple

I had the most profound experience last week.
I was sitting at the temple waiting to witness a friend’s wedding.
In rolled an elderly woman sitting in her wheelchair.
Her body had disintegrated.
All that was left was skin on bones.

The week before I had attended a funeral of a good friend.
He was normally a big jolly fellow, not fat, but tall and built.
Cancer had stole his life too soon,
and left his wife and three daughters weeping.
The final pictures of him were skinny.
The funeral weighed heavily on my mind this day,
as I was also simultaneously overjoyed for our dear friend
starting his life with his new wife.

I was contemplative,
and seeing this sweet little old lady,
effected me to the core.
My heart ached for her to be healthier.
I wished I could have seen her at her prime.
I wanted her to have a little meat on her bones,
so she could get up and walk without fear.

And it dawned on me.
All at once.
I live in a pervasively sick society.
And I am not talking about cancer or heart disease.
I am talking about attitudes.

I am talking about my own attitude.
When my sister and her hubby just visited from California,
I couldn’t question them enough about their eating habits.
They are both the epitome of looking good.
and I wanted to know their tricks to the skinny life.

The answer:
For breakfast we eat a piece of toast.
For lunch a half a sandwich,
but for dinner we eat whatever we want.

Whatever your little teeny tummy’s can handle,
which I am sure ain’t much.

For a moment I wondered if I could jump on board the regiment.

But why?
Why would I want to deprive my body of nourishment?
So I can be skinny?
I will tell you why it’s tempting.
Because everyone else is doing it.
Why is everyone else doing it?
Because they want to look good.
Period.

Who defines what looks good?
We do.
Our advertising does.
Our pop culture.
Our movies.
Our admiration in others.
Our minds.

At church on Sunday,
we discussed the idea that our bodies are temples.
Our teacher did a really great job.
One concept was especially meaningful to me.
We are the house for the Lord.
Our bodies are the literal house.
We can live in such a way that the Lord will be with us.

And I am here to tell you,
that the Lord doesn’t use body size
to determine with whom he dwells,
but he uses the size of the heart,
and the purity of the mind.

We are doing God a great disservice
when the worshiping of “skinny” or “rock hard abs”
becomes a greater priority over Him
and who we really are.

I recently attended my 20 year class reunion.
There were the bombshell gals.
There were the ones who have gained
a pound or two or 100.
And there were ones in between.

But, each individual carried their own spirit.
I could sense into their heart.
I could tell which ones were healthy.
Which ones were happy.
Content with their life.
And loving of others.

And I am here to tell you that
when our time comes,
those are the things that will matter.

We have created such a sick society
that obesity is an even bigger problem then
anorexia or bulimia.
Our society is sick as a whole.
Why?
Because our ideals are sick.
People are sick
at both ends of the spectrum,
instead of being safe in the middle,
where all they are worried about is their personal best.

Yes, our bodies are temples.
And yes, some of us have some learning to do
in the maintenance department.
So, you don’t need to tell me
to lessen my caloric intake
or get my butt in my tennis shoes
more regularly.

But, I will tell you this.
When you see an emaciated woman
of 80 or 90 years old
and realize that the society around you
has all their young people trying to look the same as her,
you may be forever changed too.

What are you doing with your temple?

Girls can play football too.

On Sunday, my hubby, LG got up to give a talk.
He was as cute as usual; I love hearing him speak.
He never does it publicly unless he is assigned.
Following, our three girls, me,
and the ward’s Young Women’s choir,
he got a little choked up as he said that good women are a theme in his life.

After all, he is the dad of four beautiful daughters
and the husband of a pretty hard to handle wife.

He then told a funny story.
Hit the read more. You don’t want to miss this one.
It’s about the kid shown above. And football.


I never blogged this when it happened so I was glad for the reminder found in my hubby’s brain.

About a year ago, LG was serving as a Scout leader.
Our time was always precious,
and so LG took Bella with him to a Wednesday night activity.
The boys played football and they were great to include Bella.
She loved it and was talking up the game the whole way home.

She then begged for a football for her birthday.
LG went out and got a football for her.
Usually the gift buying is up to me, so it was a pretty big deal.
Bella was so excited, tore into the package,
and entreated her dad to “play now daddy.”

Before they could go out to the yard
so that LG could show me that Bella
has some pretty good throwing potential,
Bella ran with the ball back to her room.

When she came bouncing back down the hall,
I think LG had a taste of reality.

She handed LG the ball,
which she had sprayed with adhesive glitter.
“Look dad, I made it sparkle.”

I love that girl.
And I am secretly jealous that I never played football.
I didn’t want to be one of “those” girls,
but I sure do love the sport.
I think I could have been good at it.

It would be a dream come true to see Bella succeed with football.
And I don’t care what you really think.
If you ever see her, you better tell her
how cool it is that we just signed her up
to play in our local flag football league.

Let’s just keep her balls glittery.
Just to be safe.

Charlie
The other day at church someone called out to their kid who was running down the hall.
“Charlie!”

Caroline looked all around.

She didn’t see Charlie anywhere.
She starting questioning
“Where’s Charlie?”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that he lives in Tennessee.
And we live in Utah.
And that there is now another kid named Charlie
who happens to be running down the hall.
But it’s not her Charlie.
Wouldn’t you know it?
You can never have everything.
In Tennessee, Caroline loved Charlie, but hated nursery.
Now, she loves nursery.
And she still loves Charlie.
But he isn’t here.
And that is pretty identical to what her mom is going through.
I love so many things about Utah.
But I still love so many things about Tennessee,
but they aren’t here.
I can look around and feel that hole in my heart
where Charlie is missing,
or I can just keep moving forward
looking for a new Charlie.
Man, I hope he arrives soon.
Because I am kind of floundering.
And that was metaphorical.
Because I am happily married.
Most of the time.

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