I Am...

When I was a senior in high school, my AP English teacher made us write an "I Am..." paper. It was simple, really. Each paragraph started with a simple statement, and you filled in the rest. I am sure that she meant it as a get-to-know-you paper, but I took the assignment to heart and wrote three pages. The process was an important one for me, because it was the first time I had ever sat down to think about what I believed in and who I was. The paper was due on my 18th birthday, and it was so significant to me, that for a couple of years after I rewrote the paper for my own records. Well, I haven't written one for about 10 years. Now that I am beyond the point that I ever imagined (when I was 18, the way I pictured my future was this: marriage, teacher. I never though past that...) I feel like I am punting. I need somewhere to stand, and since this paper helped establish the 18 year old me, I am hoping it will establish the 30 year old me.

I am 30 years old. I am a wife, a mother, a former teacher, a sister, a daughter. I am trying to blend all those things together to be a coherent and functioning human being. I am trying so hard every day to do things to be better. I am not who I was ten years ago, although that girl is still a huge part of me. She has handed to me her insecurities, but I have gained wisdom from her follies. I think. I am here and now. I am trying to see what I am meant to see and do what I am meant to do. I am strong. I am fearless. I am scared of my own power.

I believe a lot of things differently than I did when I was 18. Family, religion, politics--my beliefs have all changed or evolved. It's amazing to think about all that I have ingested and analyzed in the last eleven years, and how much that has shaped my views. I have become a much more conservative person that I originally thought I was. I believe that children need a mom and a dad. I believe that people should be honest, without sugar-coating everything, and without fear of repercussions. I believe that "politically correct" is another term for "pandering." I believe that there are ugly people. I believe that there are beautiful people. I believe that what determines your ugliness or beauty is the way you treat others. Good teeth and hair always help, though. I believe that the most important thing that anyone can do in this world is have a family and protect them.

I know how to punctuate a sentence, and I know which pronouns to use. I know (in detail) what happens in every chapter of The Great Gatsby. I know how many times The Great Gatsby or F. Scott Fitzgerald is referenced in Gilmore Girls. I know which season every episode of Friends is in, and I know the lyrics to hundreds, maybe thousands, of songs. I know every state in the United States, and can repeat them in alphabetical order. I know all the Articles of Faith by heart. I know that if I study the way I know how, I can have a strong testimony. I know that Heavenly Father watches over me and my family, and I know that we are being led. I know that I am doing what I am meant to do, no matter how hard the adjustment from teacher to mom has been for me. And because I know that, it makes life easier. I know that we will be taken care of, and I know that every experience I have is for my good. I have already seen how much better I am for the the trials I went through to get my family. I know Joe and I are a better couple because we have faced our biggest fears and we have faced things that broke our hearts. I know that Heavenly Father and our Savior don't leave anyone to figure it out on their own. They are there every step of the way.

I wish that I could be more confident in myself. I thought that by the time I was thirty, I wouldn't be insecure about my body, my likes and my dislikes, and my opinions and the way I wish to opine. I struggled with all these things in high school; there was a time when I refused to raise my hand and make a comment in classes because I thought people would like me more if I had less opinions. I have hardly any pictures of myself in high school because I always hated the way I looked. I felt stupid for liking the music I liked, and the liking the shows I liked. Now, I still feel horrible about my body--and those extra 40 pounds from pregnancies aren't helping. I still go home from church every Sunday analyzing everything I said that day from comments in Relief Society to my lesson and wonder if I offended anyone, if there was any way to construe what I said in the wrong way, or if I was inappropriate. It's exhausting, if you're wondering, to worry that much about what comes out of your mouth. I wish I was better at all those things Stay at Home Moms are supposed to do. I don't like housekeeping, so I don't do a lot of it. My house isn't disgusting, but if there's toys on the floor, I might not pick them up. If there are dishes in the sink, they may or may not get done. If Joe doesn't specifically tell me when he needs his work clothes washed, he might end up doing them himself. What do I do all day? I watch TV. I read with Alice. I crochet blankets. I rock Daisy to sleep. I might nap once in a while. And I am always feeding SOMEONE. I feel incredibly guilty for not cleaning the house in pearls. I don't really wish I would be better at cleaning, I wish I could get to a place where I don't feel the guilt.

I hope that I can start to find a balance in who I am and how I define myself. I used to label myself as nothing more than a teacher. Then, when I became a wife and a mother, I didn't know how to be combine all those things. Now, I label myself as just a mom. It's wonderful being a mother. I love every time Alice sits on my lap, or Daisy smiles at me, or when I get to kick some serious monster butt. But if all I am is a mom, then what am I to me? And what am I to Joe? See, Joe and I already have moms. See my problem? I don't know how to balance everything yet. And I don't know what it means to be me, Sarah Bingham. For so long I have been a student, a teacher, a wife, a mother, I never really figured out what it is to be me. I hope I can figure that out and find a way to be all those things I want to be. I hope that I can raise my daughters to believe that they are beautiful and wonderful people. I hope I can teach them to have integrity, but most of all, I hope I can show them what it means to have a testimony and how to strengthen theirs.

I dream of writing a book. I want people to read my words and appreciate what I have in my head. I dream of the days when I can buy a pair of shoes without wondering it it's going to hurt our mortgage, or when I can buy Alice and Daisy everything I want to buy them for Christmas. I dream of a house. A house with a fenced-in yard where I can watch my kids play in the sandbox from the kitchen window. A house where I have a room all to myself with lots of shelves for all my books and cubby holes for all my yarn and a desk where I can write my book that would eventually be made into a Disney movie. I dream of a garage for Joe where he can restore cars the way he wants and a place where he can teach my girls to change the oil and the tires. I dream of my girls, and what I want them to be and wonder how I can help them get there.

I love my Joe. I love my Alice. I love my Daisy. I love my Heavenly Father. I love where I am in my life, even though I haven't figured everything out or how I fit into the picture. I love going on dates with my husband and holding his hand, and cuddling like we used to when it was just us. I love the way he smells when he comes home from work, and I love that he puts on special cologne when he wants me to cuddle him. I love dancing with Alice and coming up with routines that involve Jazz Hands. I love smelling Daisy's head, and I love falling asleep with her in the rocker. I love playing in Alice's make believe world, and I love to watch Daisy watch Alice. I love cooking and having people like my food. I love making usable things with my hands: blankets, booties, slippers, hats. I love creating. I think that's the part I miss most about teaching: creating everything from scratch--lesson plans, handouts, units, tests, activities--and then see that my creations actually worked, and actually helped someone see something differently. I love being who I am, even if I'm not comfortable with all the components that make up me, or even understand all the components. I love the choices I have made that have brought me to this point.

In writing this, I have come to realize one thing that I didn't realize before I started writing this: Despite everything that is so not perfect in my life, I am happy.

Practice Makes Perfect

So. It's been three months, and I still have ten pounds to lose from having Miss Daisy, and then fifty--yes, 5-0--pounds to lose from having Alice. I've done Weight Watchers, I've tried to go it alone, I've tried calorie counting with workouts. I just can't seem to lose more than a couple of pounds, and then if I have a day or so when I fall off the wagon, I gain it back. In like one day. I kid you not.

So I started doing some research into different diets, and the more research I read on losing weight and the science of the body, the more I realized when I cut calories, all I was doing is lowering my fat intake and to replace the feeling of fullness, I was compensating with lots of carbohydrates--yogurt, granola bars, popcorn, etc. Well, carbohydrates turn things into sugar, and sugar turns to fat, especially if your body is not efficient in processing sugar, which, I have discovered, mine does not. I'm an Indian (a genetic group that only ate meat and vegetables), my family has a history of diabetes, I have ovulation problems (which has been shown to be caused by insulin levels and hormones regulation), and I take thyroid medication to regulate my sugars--thyroid also controls your hormones. So. Sugar is not good for me. And if carbohydrates turn to sugar, then. Well, this spare tire around the middle finally has a culprit.

Anyway, after all that boring stuff, I have started looking into different low-carb approaches, and I have settled on the New Atkins. Yeah, yeah. I know. Atkins died of heart disease. Your body needs carbohydrates. Sure. But your body doesn't need refined flour and sugar. Your body needs carbs that can be found in vegetables and fruits. Which is what, once you really start to read up and not go by rumor, is what Atkins is all about. The theory, and there's quite a bit of science to back it up, is this: your body's first source for energy is carbohydrates, with fat as a secondary resource. So, if you don't give your body more than 20 - 30 grams of carbs a day, you body will start pulling from your fat stores for energy. The kicker is that fat is a more efficient and concentrated form of energy, so there's no sugar high and crash. Proteins and (healthy) fats leave you satisfied longer than refined carbs, so you tend to eat less and crave less. It makes sense, really.

So it's Thanksgiving and Christmas. A bad time to decide to avoid carbs and sugar. So, I have decided to "practice" eating low carbs. Meaning, on days when there is not a party or a holiday, I will follow the Atkins diet best I can. On party days and and holidays, I'm not gonna try too hard. I'm going to eat my pies and stuffing and whatever else.

See, I'm just practicing now--remember when you were taking piano lessons, and you were told to practice so you could get better at it? Then you sat down, opened the music, and played it perfect the first time. Done. Right? Well, no, not really. You practiced and practiced, made a lot of mistakes, and hopefully by recital time, you have worked out all the kinks and you can play perfectly. Or near perfect. And if you make a mistake, no one really notices because the rest is so fabulous. That's what I'm doing. I'm living low carb and making all my mistakes now, and then come January, it's recital time. Diving in, following the diet to the letter, and going to the gym as much as my kiddos and hubby allow. Adjusting and making mistakes now, so when it's time to really commit, I am almost perfect, but if I make a few mistakes, no one will know because I'm looking so crazy fabulous.

So for now, low carb-ish. So far, I have survived by substituting anything I would use bread for with lettuce. For example, tonight, instead of creamy chicken taquitos, we had creamy chicken lettuce boats. It was yummy. And guess what? On a low carb diet, you can eat cream cheese, cheese, meats, cream, butter, and vegetables. All the stuff I love. I kid you not, spread some cream cheese in celery, and I'm a happy camper.

This week I have only been able to really follow the low carb diet perfectly for three days out of five, and guess what? I've lost three pounds. In three days. Yeah. I think this might work. Boring blog post. But I felt like I needed to put it out there.