The Currency of Love

Today during a mandated sweep and clean operation of Julia's room a discovery was made by her brother.

These are Julia dollars and apparently they're worth ten thousand regular dollars. You can also exchange them for love, which she says is endless. I had never seen them or heard about them until today, when they were unearthed in the much needed cleaning of her room.

I've been thinking a lot of thoughts lately, about love and feelings and since it's almost valentine's day maybe I've been inspired by candy hearts and decorative fat babies with arrows.

Different kinds of love have different prices out there in life. There's the kind of love you have for those first loves, those mistake loves that are how you learn what love is and isn't. You lose part of yourself in them, and you change based on what you learn. Sometimes there are loves that could've been the RIGHT one but the timing was wrong, and the price of the regret can be unending. You'll always wonder just a little bit "what if?"

The love for your children is different. My own experience was that the moment I became pregnant I began to change, and the fierceness with which I love my children is not quantifiable by man. A friend once said "I'd not only take a bullet for my children, I'd take a slow saw to the neck." That about sums it up to me. There is nothing I wouldn't do for them. I get annoyed when I have to get out of bed and parent in the night, don't be fooled. I don't leap out of like a fairy and flit about full of joy and happiness. But when there is coughing, or retching, or other sounds that aren't sleeping my eyes pop open and I listen. I get up.

Sometimes I open my eyes in the middle of the night and listen intently to them sleeping. In the room next to mine, just a few feet from my head, three boys slumber. I can hear the one who snores, and the one who rolls around and flops in his sleep, and the one who giggles in his sleep. I listen intently for the sounds that are the three of them. The girl is further down the hall and I'll have to creep down the hall and peek for a good inspection.

Then I go pee because I'm up and gravity is a thing and I had four kids so give me a break.

The love of my children has become a currency I'm paying in another way. I started working out because I was over 300 pounds and had a heart incident. It started out as vanity, I was ashamed of how I looked. I was ashamed that arthritis in my knee was keeping me from using stairs at work. I was ashamed that I tried to do aerobics and collapsed on the floor crying after 7 minutes.

I vowed I wasn't going to shop in fat girl stores any more. I was going to be SKINNY. No one was EVER going to yell rude things at me (they still do btw) and I was going to make sure no one could EVER refer to me as fat again with any sort of basis in reality.

Then eventually, despite that voice in my head saying all the stuff above, it became about being more healthy. My heart condition is a real thing. I actually have a couple of different things happening heart-wise, one because of the other, and they have names and sound super scary and everything. They are the sort of things that aren't really that big of a deal if you are healthy and stuff. They are the sort of things that people ignore and then one day they have heart failure and everyone goes "Wow dead at 50 who knew X could kill you?"

X can kill you. X will always kill you.

But the reality hit me in 2015 when both of my parents up and died. The first thing was that they'd both died of X, those things that might've been handled so differently if dealt with earlier. The second thing though was the reality that suddenly my brothers and I were orphans. At 46, 36 and 26 we now were on our own. Yes we're all grown but it was a sobering moment because you never really think you'll be orphaned yet there we were.

My own children are some day going to be orphans.  I have two children who will never, ever be able to do for themselves. The other two, if I died today, would be very sad but would also be FINE. They're smart, they're capable. The Jesuits say give us the child for the first seven years and we'll give you the man well, she'll be 7 this year and he's 14 and frankly - while I don't WANT TO DIE now, I'm not afraid of what will happen to them. I know solidly in my heart they will be fine.

But my twins....will not.

They need me and/or their father alive as long as possible to care for them. Maybe some day to over see where they go live when we can no longer care for them. So I go to the gym. I try to watch what I eat (some days more than others let me tell you). I am running. I'm terrible at it, but I also hate being terrible at things so I keep going. So when I'm sweating and I'm hurting, I'm paying part of the currency of love. I'm paying the price of loving them so much, and I don't regret it.

I regret eating whatever I wanted for 20 years, but not for loving them this much. I lift weights on Tuesday and Thursdays and push myself to run up that hill even though my legs are about to brick. I push and push and push. I have to lose more weight, not tons, but more to ease the strain on my heart from all this extra fat. I need to build strong bones and keep them as I age so that I'm not made weak too soon by the toll of years.

I'm putting it off, this aging thing. My vanity likes the smaller sizes but my heart likes it when it gets to NOT take blood pressure medicine and when the ridiculously expensive tests don't find anything bad beyond what's known.

I could say I want to stay alive just because I'm selfish and I want all of my days. But actually I want my days so that I'm here not just for me, but for them. That's the price of loving them. It's part fear, it's part just plain love. But it's real, and it's a currency I will gladly pay until the day I die.

The Currency of Love

Today during a mandated sweep and clean operation of Julia's room a discovery was made by her brother.

These are Julia dollars and apparently they're worth ten thousand regular dollars. You can also exchange them for love, which she says is endless. I had never seen them or heard about them until today, when they were unearthed in the much needed cleaning of her room.

I've been thinking a lot of thoughts lately, about love and feelings and since it's almost valentine's day maybe I've been inspired by candy hearts and decorative fat babies with arrows.

Different kinds of love have different prices out there in life. There's the kind of love you have for those first loves, those mistake loves that are how you learn what love is and isn't. You lose part of yourself in them, and you change based on what you learn. Sometimes there are loves that could've been the RIGHT one but the timing was wrong, and the price of the regret can be unending. You'll always wonder just a little bit "what if?"

The love for your children is different. My own experience was that the moment I became pregnant I began to change, and the fierceness with which I love my children is not quantifiable by man. A friend once said "I'd not only take a bullet for my children, I'd take a slow saw to the neck." That about sums it up to me. There is nothing I wouldn't do for them. I get annoyed when I have to get out of bed and parent in the night, don't be fooled. I don't leap out of like a fairy and flit about full of joy and happiness. But when there is coughing, or retching, or other sounds that aren't sleeping my eyes pop open and I listen. I get up.

Sometimes I open my eyes in the middle of the night and listen intently to them sleeping. In the room next to mine, just a few feet from my head, three boys slumber. I can hear the one who snores, and the one who rolls around and flops in his sleep, and the one who giggles in his sleep. I listen intently for the sounds that are the three of them. The girl is further down the hall and I'll have to creep down the hall and peek for a good inspection.

Then I go pee because I'm up and gravity is a thing and I had four kids so give me a break.

The love of my children has become a currency I'm paying in another way. I started working out because I was over 300 pounds and had a heart incident. It started out as vanity, I was ashamed of how I looked. I was ashamed that arthritis in my knee was keeping me from using stairs at work. I was ashamed that I tried to do aerobics and collapsed on the floor crying after 7 minutes.

I vowed I wasn't going to shop in fat girl stores any more. I was going to be SKINNY. No one was EVER going to yell rude things at me (they still do btw) and I was going to make sure no one could EVER refer to me as fat again with any sort of basis in reality.

Then eventually, despite that voice in my head saying all the stuff above, it became about being more healthy. My heart condition is a real thing. I actually have a couple of different things happening heart-wise, one because of the other, and they have names and sound super scary and everything. They are the sort of things that aren't really that big of a deal if you are healthy and stuff. They are the sort of things that people ignore and then one day they have heart failure and everyone goes "Wow dead at 50 who knew X could kill you?"

X can kill you. X will always kill you.

But the reality hit me in 2015 when both of my parents up and died. The first thing was that they'd both died of X, those things that might've been handled so differently if dealt with earlier. The second thing though was the reality that suddenly my brothers and I were orphans. At 46, 36 and 26 we now were on our own. Yes we're all grown but it was a sobering moment because you never really think you'll be orphaned yet there we were.

My own children are some day going to be orphans.  I have two children who will never, ever be able to do for themselves. The other two, if I died today, would be very sad but would also be FINE. They're smart, they're capable. The Jesuits say give us the child for the first seven years and we'll give you the man well, she'll be 7 this year and he's 14 and frankly - while I don't WANT TO DIE now, I'm not afraid of what will happen to them. I know solidly in my heart they will be fine.

But my twins....will not.

They need me and/or their father alive as long as possible to care for them. Maybe some day to over see where they go live when we can no longer care for them. So I go to the gym. I try to watch what I eat (some days more than others let me tell you). I am running. I'm terrible at it, but I also hate being terrible at things so I keep going. So when I'm sweating and I'm hurting, I'm paying part of the currency of love. I'm paying the price of loving them so much, and I don't regret it.

I regret eating whatever I wanted for 20 years, but not for loving them this much. I lift weights on Tuesday and Thursdays and push myself to run up that hill even though my legs are about to brick. I push and push and push. I have to lose more weight, not tons, but more to ease the strain on my heart from all this extra fat. I need to build strong bones and keep them as I age so that I'm not made weak too soon by the toll of years.

I'm putting it off, this aging thing. My vanity likes the smaller sizes but my heart likes it when it gets to NOT take blood pressure medicine and when the ridiculously expensive tests don't find anything bad beyond what's known.

I could say I want to stay alive just because I'm selfish and I want all of my days. But actually I want my days so that I'm here not just for me, but for them. That's the price of loving them. It's part fear, it's part just plain love. But it's real, and it's a currency I will gladly pay until the day I die.

The True Story of How I Ate My Way Through Las Vegas...or 8 Pounds Later

I think the fact that we started off with a chocolate tasting pretty much set the tone for our trip. "Would like you to have a chocolate tasting while we get your table ready?" Despite the fact that this was an OBVIOUS stall tactic as the place was mostly empty, so clearly the servers were just bickering over who was taking us but REGARDLESS - CHOCOLATE TASTING!!

It was Michele's birthday and who were we mortals to turn down a chocolate tasting? NO one, that's who! So we started off with a chocolate tasting of single source local friendly whatever else I'm supposed to say that indicates that no indigenous people were deprived of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness to obtain it. After that we floated, high on whatever it is in chocolate that makes all right with your world, to our table for various appetizers and drinks to celebrate my arrival and Michele's birthday. Her friend Candy joined us and it was a lovely evening of calories and visiting.

The next day was a fancy lunch at a buffet featuring foods from the regions of France. The food was delicious. The dessert was divine.

I always wanted to try macarons. I've never seen them anywhere that they weren't about $3 A PIECE and honestly I hated the idea of wasting that much money on something so small. Now of course I have learned that it wouldn't have been a waste. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN AN INVESTMENT IN HAPPINESS.

Because wow were they good. The creme brulee wasn't carmelized enough. I give it a B.

For dinner we tried Gordon Ramsay's Steak and I have to admit I'm far too unsophisticated of a palette to really appreciate food that costs that much money. This is a wheel of steak choices. Each one is more expensive than the next. It's all still made of cow, however.

This was my steak. It was pretty good. I mean, it was steak. It was tender and juicy and good. I'm not sure it was the demi-god of steaks, however. I'm not even sure it had super powers.

But based on the bill - it should have. That's all I'm saying.

Lunch the next day was at a place called Mon Ami Gabi and once again, French food. I can tell you it was amazing and delicious and, so cheese, so meat, so good. It was like dinner and a show however thanks to these guys.

This guy had a bullhorn and really had a lot to say but I personally found that he lacked passion. I didn't see the crazy in his eyes. He was just sort of blathering as he walked. It was entertaining, however.

That evening was cocktails and appetizers at one of THE destinations in Vegas, it was a work event so we had to behave.

I had to grab a picture from Google just to show you how amazing this location was.

It looks out over the strip and as the sun set the show of lights was AMAZING. They served cocktails and appetizers, which included lots of things but my favorites were the peanut chicken AND - the braised beef spareribs, served in thimbles.

I only had two of them. That can't be THAT many calories, right?

After we wrapped up that event however it was time to actually go out and eat, so I met up with my brother and work friends and we hit the town.

Harley Davidson on the strip does NOT have the best barbecue in Vegas THAT was a lie. They do have good blue drinks however, so it evens out in my book. Of course after dinner we needed to get dessert. I'd promised Scott we'd go Holstein's because according to YELP they have the best milkshakes in Vegas.

I had a birthday cake shake and I do admit, it was pretty good. I feel like it was an A in shake world but I also think Steak N Shake is an A in the shake world so this isn't necessarily a huge upgrade from my normal shakes available in life. It was fun though. We also got to see a dude with the drawers down to his knees hitting on a pro. I didn't get a clear picture of it. But it was funny.

My trip started the way it ended, with my friend Michele which honestly was awesome. She was going to take me to the airport but first we headed down to Fremont to show me old Vegas and get some lunch. We went to that classic, the Golden Nugget and had some buffet which was not as fancy as the French one but I'm positive no less calories. We toasted our friend Renee, who was the third of our lunch bunch. She is sadly missed by us, it was one of those times she should've been with us, laughing and eating and gossiping. That won't ever happen again, but I'm glad we were able to toast to her together and remember her.

We were having mimosas, and toasting our friend who drank herself to death. She'd actually have probably thought that was funny. We had the thought, "this is probably in bad taste" but we quickly gave it the meh, whatever because that's how we roll.

Like it or lump it, Renee. If you don't like it, you shoulda been there to tell us so.

This story doesn't include breakfast, which occurred each day. It was at the boulangerie and it was so damn good.

It doesn't include snacks on the plane each way. It doesn't include cocktails. There were cocktails Many many many cocktails.

The end result despite WAY over 10 k steps walked every day was pretty frustrating. I wasn't keeping track of what I ate, so even though I KNEW there was no way I was even close to making up my intake well, let's face it - I didn't stop because I didn't care.

So here I am. It's 8 pound heavier and now I have to take it off. Which is fine, because honestly when in Rome (or Paris). I'm a little annoyed at myself and yet, I'm mostly not. It was fun. I hate the way in I look in the photos but I don't know that I ever will like the way I look so I've decided not to care and to crop out the bits I hate the most (above, totally did).

And now I'm muscle sore from the total gym and requesting curly fries for dinner.

You can take the fat girl out of the....oh wait.

No, you just can't.

Oh well, I'll get there.
Tweet

The True Story of How I Ate My Way Through Las Vegas...or 8 Pounds Later

I think the fact that we started off with a chocolate tasting pretty much set the tone for our trip. "Would like you to have a chocolate tasting while we get your table ready?" Despite the fact that this was an OBVIOUS stall tactic as the place was mostly empty, so clearly the servers were just bickering over who was taking us but REGARDLESS - CHOCOLATE TASTING!!

It was Michele's birthday and who were we mortals to turn down a chocolate tasting? NO one, that's who! So we started off with a chocolate tasting of single source local friendly whatever else I'm supposed to say that indicates that no indigenous people were deprived of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness to obtain it. After that we floated, high on whatever it is in chocolate that makes all right with your world, to our table for various appetizers and drinks to celebrate my arrival and Michele's birthday. Her friend Candy joined us and it was a lovely evening of calories and visiting.

The next day was a fancy lunch at a buffet featuring foods from the regions of France. The food was delicious. The dessert was divine.

I always wanted to try macarons. I've never seen them anywhere that they weren't about $3 A PIECE and honestly I hated the idea of wasting that much money on something so small. Now of course I have learned that it wouldn't have been a waste. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN AN INVESTMENT IN HAPPINESS.

Because wow were they good. The creme brulee wasn't carmelized enough. I give it a B.

For dinner we tried Gordon Ramsay's Steak and I have to admit I'm far too unsophisticated of a palette to really appreciate food that costs that much money. This is a wheel of steak choices. Each one is more expensive than the next. It's all still made of cow, however.

This was my steak. It was pretty good. I mean, it was steak. It was tender and juicy and good. I'm not sure it was the demi-god of steaks, however. I'm not even sure it had super powers.

But based on the bill - it should have. That's all I'm saying.

Lunch the next day was at a place called Mon Ami Gabi and once again, French food. I can tell you it was amazing and delicious and, so cheese, so meat, so good. It was like dinner and a show however thanks to these guys.

This guy had a bullhorn and really had a lot to say but I personally found that he lacked passion. I didn't see the crazy in his eyes. He was just sort of blathering as he walked. It was entertaining, however.

That evening was cocktails and appetizers at one of THE destinations in Vegas, it was a work event so we had to behave.

I had to grab a picture from Google just to show you how amazing this location was.

It looks out over the strip and as the sun set the show of lights was AMAZING. They served cocktails and appetizers, which included lots of things but my favorites were the peanut chicken AND - the braised beef spareribs, served in thimbles.

I only had two of them. That can't be THAT many calories, right?

After we wrapped up that event however it was time to actually go out and eat, so I met up with my brother and work friends and we hit the town.

Harley Davidson on the strip does NOT have the best barbecue in Vegas THAT was a lie. They do have good blue drinks however, so it evens out in my book. Of course after dinner we needed to get dessert. I'd promised Scott we'd go Holstein's because according to YELP they have the best milkshakes in Vegas.

I had a birthday cake shake and I do admit, it was pretty good. I feel like it was an A in shake world but I also think Steak N Shake is an A in the shake world so this isn't necessarily a huge upgrade from my normal shakes available in life. It was fun though. We also got to see a dude with the drawers down to his knees hitting on a pro. I didn't get a clear picture of it. But it was funny.

My trip started the way it ended, with my friend Michele which honestly was awesome. She was going to take me to the airport but first we headed down to Fremont to show me old Vegas and get some lunch. We went to that classic, the Golden Nugget and had some buffet which was not as fancy as the French one but I'm positive no less calories. We toasted our friend Renee, who was the third of our lunch bunch. She is sadly missed by us, it was one of those times she should've been with us, laughing and eating and gossiping. That won't ever happen again, but I'm glad we were able to toast to her together and remember her.

We were having mimosas, and toasting our friend who drank herself to death. She'd actually have probably thought that was funny. We had the thought, "this is probably in bad taste" but we quickly gave it the meh, whatever because that's how we roll.

Like it or lump it, Renee. If you don't like it, you shoulda been there to tell us so.

This story doesn't include breakfast, which occurred each day. It was at the boulangerie and it was so damn good.

It doesn't include snacks on the plane each way. It doesn't include cocktails. There were cocktails Many many many cocktails.

The end result despite WAY over 10 k steps walked every day was pretty frustrating. I wasn't keeping track of what I ate, so even though I KNEW there was no way I was even close to making up my intake well, let's face it - I didn't stop because I didn't care.

So here I am. It's 8 pound heavier and now I have to take it off. Which is fine, because honestly when in Rome (or Paris). I'm a little annoyed at myself and yet, I'm mostly not. It was fun. I hate the way in I look in the photos but I don't know that I ever will like the way I look so I've decided not to care and to crop out the bits I hate the most (above, totally did).

And now I'm muscle sore from the total gym and requesting curly fries for dinner.

You can take the fat girl out of the....oh wait.

No, you just can't.

Oh well, I'll get there.
Tweet