Sugar and Spice and Saturated Animal Fats

My lower lip trembled as I forced myself to meet his gaze.  It all came down to this, then.  I had competition.  "What does she have that I don't have?" I asked softly.

Ross paused, then replied.  "Sprinkles."

The Other Woman, dear reader, turns out to be none other than that syrupy-sweet tramp Little Debbie.  She's after men's hearts and stomachs, if not their pocketbooks, but she's a dangerous foe.  It's hard to compete with high fructose corn syrup and processed white sugar, but I have been doing my best.  In fact, as my close friends can verify, I have been trying my hand at baking again, and I have been doing quite well, thank you!  My latest triumph was a whole-wheat treat studded with delicious blueberries and topped with a sweet streusel.  It was called "Blueberry Boy Bait" and it was incredibly good!  I thought I was doing better...but then I found the enpty box of Little Debbie snack cakes in the trash.

I was furious.  I had bought them with the intention of putting them in Ross's lunches as an ocassional treat.  I mean, those things are crazy high in saturated fat and sugar.  Not to mention, they have no nutritional value at all.  Here, he had been sneaking them and then returning the box to the back of the cupboard.  I hadn't even known he'd opened it, and there the thing was, empty in the kitchen trash.  Tricky son of a gun!

It was hurt.  I was angry.  Sure, I was the Sugar Nazi...then the Sodium Nazi...then the All-Purpose Food Nazi...but I cared about his heart!  I didn't want to lose him to diabetes or high cholesterol!  And it wasn't like I was denying him sweets.  He got all sorts of yummy snacks in his lunch.  Cookies, often, in fact.  His favorite cookies - Giant Eagle "Magic" cookies - full of chocolate chips and M&Ms.  Why would he do this to me? 

I confronted him like McCarthy would have grilled a movie queen with socialist sympathies.  When had he opened the box?  When did he finish it?  Why did he decieve me?  Then, a new question popped into my head - why was I getting so mad about it?

I once read an article in a secular magazine that talked about treating your husband differently than you treat children.  For example, you're not supposed to lecture your husband about what he eats.  Feh, I sniffed.  What if your husband was eating Hot Pockets three times a day and drinking nothing but Mountain Dew before you met him?  Now, I realize...well, he was, of course...but he has improved by leaps and bounds since I started cooking for him 18 months ago.  He requests salad.  He likes spinach, pepper and asparagus.  He loves tuna and salmon.  He almost never eats red meat.  He prefers whole wheat bread to white bread.  He eats lowfat yogurt.  He likes lowfat yogurt.  He takes vitamins and a baby aspirin daily.  He takes a brisk fifteen-minute walk twice daily. 

What I am I panicking about?

Maybe I am being unreasonable because both his father and mine suffer from diabetes and sometimes seem older than they are.  I love them both too much to imagine losing them at all, much less to a preventable disease.  Maybe I worry because I know that I was so sickly as a child, and that poor health habits only contributed to my condition.  Maybe - and the most plausible reason - is that I worry because I am still struggling with the issues of trusting and letting go. 

I am, like many women, possessing of a controlling nature.  While there are many areas in life where this is a benefit, relationships are generally not one of those areas.  Plus, it makes me look crazy, worrying about all this stuff.  If God cares enough to make sure that wild animals get food, of course he is concerned with Ross's health.  My inability to trust Ross to make wise choices regarding food is synonymous with my not trusting God to take care of Ross.  Both are really bad decisions on my part, and both lead to more fear and less happiness.

And who on earth needs that?

Tonight, as we head out to a new restaurant for Valentine's Day, I will make a step in the right direction.  I won't urge him to avoid the salty fries or the greasy meat.  I'll encourage him to get something he will enjoy.

I will, however, pack for him a reduced-sodium ham sandwich, carrots, graham crackers, yogurt and a banana tomorrow for lunch.

We all have to do our part, you know.

Just not obsessively.   

Respecting Motherhood

At the bank, I am often required to obtain employment information from my customers.  Yesterday, a handsome young couple with two gorgeous little boys came in with some questions, and I pulled up the wife's information from my files.  "You're still a homemaker?" I confirmed.  She made a face.  "Yes.  But that sounds so silly and old fashioned."  I agreed, and we laughed.  Such a word puts into your head an image of June Cleaver with fresh red lipstick, heels and a ruffly apron, carving a huge roast for dinner.  So quaint and charming.  So out-dated.  (And although I am so glad those high heels are back in style again, I definitely do not wear them when I iron or chop tomatoes.)

In reality, I have learned that a "homemaker" or "stay-at-home mom" is, like any mother: a nurse, a counselor, a coach, a taxi-driver, a maid, a cook, a punching bag, an accountant, a referee, a cheerleader, an innkeeper, a zookeeper, a gardener, a historian, an interior designer, a hostess, and a soldier - full time.

When I think of the things a mom has to do, I realize why so many ancient cultures encouraged extended families to live together.  Sisters, cousins and neighbors would take care of all their children together, teaching them and raising them as a community.  Who could blame them?  To grind the wheat, and weave the cloth, and pay the servants, and measure the oil, and dye the linen, and harvest the barley, and slaughter the lamb, and bake the bread took up so much of the day that raising the children had to be a shared task as well, or it may never happen!

Of course, women back then didn't have to worry about getting child #1 to soccer practice, child # 3 to the pediatrician and speaking with the principal about child # 2 - all in the same day.  I guess it all evens out, since most of us aren't threshing wheat and baking clay pottery all day.

What I am trying to say is that I have a deep respect for women who eschew a career in order to raise children.  I have as much respect for the husbands who provide financially for them to do so, because I know very few stay-at-home moms who are so financially secure that they don't have to make serious budget cuts in order to stay with their children.

It is surprising (and pleasing!) to me to see more and more young women - even my friends! - who are walking away from jobs, careers and their livelihood because they do not want their children to go to day care.  Is day care a bad place?  I have heard stories, of course, same as anybody, but if your children are being raised with morals and beliefs different than your own, whatever they may be, then yes, it is a bad place.  I work with women whose hearts get broken every day when they have to drop off their children at day-care, or who are pulled away from work because a child is sick or disruptive.  It is a difficult life.

By no means do I intend disrespect to any women who need or choose careers in tandem with motherhood.  They have struggles of their own.  Their lives are equally hectic, but in different ways.  My good friend Jaime, in fact, is balancing beautiful twin girls and the recent return to her job as a stylist - which she loves, which she is very good at, and which fulfills her.  From what I see, the lady is doing a fabulous job, and it's actually helping her appreciate her babies more (plus, Matt gets quality Daddy time with them)!  Now, as for us, it's just that both Ross and I were raised by stay-at-home moms, with Ross even being home-schooled for several years, and we deeply appreciate our mothers being there for us (even when, as kids, we totally did not want them around).

Either way, raising children in this world is no easy task. 

It scares me to think of the kind of world in which Ross and I will eventually be raising our kids.  I just have to believe that God did indeed put within us the potential to be God-fearing, loving, wise parents who will put our kids on the path to His face, seeking His will for their lives...and eventually, appreciating our sacrifices for them as we have learned to appreciate the sacrifices our parents made for us.

Thanks, Mom and Step-Mom.  I love you!

Heading to the Enemy's Camp...

For you to understand what I am about to say, you need to understand a little bit about my faith.  I am a person who solidly believes in the whole Bible, beginning to end and everything in between.  I know not everything in it seems to make sense, and I may catch hell for it, but that doesn't really bother me.  What is important is that I have no doubts at all that Jesus is the Son of God, born of a virgin, Who took on the sins of the world and died on the cross that men could see Heaven.  

Whether or not you agree with that is, of course, entirely up to you.

But you have to understand that I fully believe it, if what I am to say will make any sense.

For the past three weeks, my church and many, many others across the world have been engaging in a fast.  The purpose has been to draw nearer to God by "putting the flesh under" - in some way, ruling over our bodies and not giving in to them.  Romans 11:16 states that "If the part of the dough offered as firstfruits is holy, then the whole batch is holy; if the root is holy, so are the branches."  We are giving the first portion of our year to Him.  You get a little more sensitive to things when  you're denying your body something it tells you it wants.  You hear God more clearly, you think things through more completely.  You are the better for it.  Cleaner, more receptive.  Like a spiritual detox.

Ross and I felt that we needed to be a part of this journey.  We felt that God was leading us not on a "Daniel fast" of fruits and vegetables, but we did feel that God was asking us to lay aside some of our favorite foods and snacks, as well as things in other areas of our lives.  The funny thing is, though, that giving up cheese (my all-time favorite food), popcorn, pop ("soda", Ross calls it; how droll), processed sweets and video games wasn't the challenge for me.  What is a challenge is what has been happening in all the other areas of our lives!

Last year, at the same time the fast started, Ross and I were honeymooning in San Antonio, Texas.  We were having a wonderful time...eating too much, exploring, having adventures, and spending every single second wrapped in each others' arms.  This year,  it was a different story.  Both our vehicles needed extensive repairs within a day of each other...Ross was turned down for both positions he applied for...we nearly got into a car accident...I am having difficulty in launching my Bible study group...and I was rushed to the doctor with dizziness and chest pain to learn that I have seriously, dangerously high blood pressure...and they cannot yet determine why.  

You can imagine that we're a little discouraged and confused right now!

If all these things had happened at almost any other time, I don't know that I would have felt so seriously attacked.  But this is what I believe: there is something waiting for me in just a few days that the devil absolutely does not want me to have.  

When I saw the letter stating that Ross was turned down for the job he really, truly wanted, I was about ready to leave for work.  I got into the car and just broke down in tears.  I was so hurt for him.  I knew how much effort he had put into his interviews and how excited he was to work for the company.  I felt like the whole thing was a slap in the face.  And I heard the devil smirking: "See?  This is what you get for trusting your God.  How little he values your worship!"  

And then I got mad.  I realized that the only thing to do was to praise the Lord, and I turned up the music and sang before Him.  It was the one thing I could do to smash my heels into the devil's face.  And immediately, God spoke to me, promising me that the perfect position was opening up for Ross...and that we should not mourn at this "defeat".

While we are still waiting to see that position open, we are standing fast in our faith.  For now, though, both Ross and I have decent-paying jobs with cushy hours and good benefits.  Which we will need, considering the recent attack against my body.

Other than my childhood, which was wracked with allergies, anxiety attacks, and annual pneumonia, I am a fairly healthy person.   In fact, if you follow my blogs at all, you can see that I am what my loving step-mother calls a "food Nazi".  Processed soup has no place in my pantry.  Canned veggies had better say "no sodium" on the label.  All dairy is fat-free or reduced fat.  Eggs are reserved for special occasions (egg substitute is preferred).  While I am not the "gym-nut" that I someday hope to be, I am very conscious of eating as healthy as I can for the majority of the time.  In addition, I don't smoke and very, very rarely drink any alcohol.  I have cut back substantially on my coffee intake.  I have cut a lot of sugar from my diet.

Then why is my blood pressure 180/120?  That's...that's just crazy.  The nurse who took it looked at me like she was about to throw up.  "Um...did you know you have high blood pressure?" she gagged.

Basic blood tests and a physical exam haven't revealed anything yet.  I'll be honest.  It's pretty scary.  I told my dad that I felt guilty, like I did something wrong, or that I deserve it...like I am a time bomb and at any moment, something may tip my blood pressure just a bit too high and something really, really bad will happen.

Fortunately for me, I have a whole legion of prayer warriors on my side, and I am not allowing the twin serpents of doubt and fear to speak too loudly in my ear.  

I didn't share any of this for pity's sake.  I shared it because I firmly believe that, very soon, I will have a victorious tale to tell, and I wanted to use a format such as this to proclaim what I feel to be true.

Stay tuned, dear readers, dear friends.  There is a part two to this story, and I cannot wait to experience it!