Vital Signs

Twelve years ago this month, I married the most wonderful man on the planet. He raised my kids from preschoolers into fine young adults. He even raised me to some extent. Today, the man who molded my husband into the person he is, lays dying. We knew it was coming. For two years my father-in-law’s health has continued to fail. A few months ago, we were introduced to Hospice, a wonderful program staffed by the most compassionate people I’ve ever met.

Saturday, the nurse told us to call the family, gather around him, touch him, share stories with him. He hasn’t recognized us for the past few days, but she assures us he can hear and feel, so we complied. She taught us how to monitor his vital signs and things to watch for to let us know how close he is coming to his appointment with the Lord. And yesterday afternoon, when all the kids, grandkids, in-laws, and great-grands where gathered at his bedside, the nurse said, "Look what a wonderful family these two people have produced."

To Doc & Granny, as we call them, church and family are the most important things in life, and it shows if one observes the crowd. I looked around. Two people. Sixty-plus years, and now there is a houseful of joy. Two children, six grandchildren, four great-grands with two more on the way. Signs of his life–his true vital signs. A nurse, a school teacher, an engineer, a future doctor, two massage therapists, a real estate appraiser, some business professionals, and most importantly–Christians.

When I married his son, Doc immediately adopted me and my children. The word "step" was never used when referring to my kids as his grandkids. When my daughter came in crying during the early days of her second-grade year, Doc asked her what was wrong. Apparently, there was a mean boy on the school bus. Doc told her he would take care of it. I wondered, would he call the child’s parents? Contact the principal? Surely he wouldn’t harm a 7-year-old, even one who had made one of his family members cry.

He pulled my daughter into his lap and said, "You don’t have to ride the school bus any more. I’ll come pick up you and your brother every day." And he did. When my daughter turned 16, it was time for Doc to get another car, so we bought his car for a minimal amount for her to drive. It’s older than she is, but, as he told her, the car needs to have more experience on the road than the driver, and "this car knows its way home." She’ll turn 18 this month and the car will turn 20. She still drives it everyday, and, as Doc promised, it has always made its way home safely. Today, or maybe tomorrow if the doctor’s estimate is correct, Doc will make his way home.

To the home he’s traveled toward for nearly 86 years. I love you, Doc!

Note: Doc went to be with the Lord about an hour after I orginally posted this blog on January 16, 2006.

The Back Porch Chicken

Is it just me, or does anybody else have a chicken living on their back porch? To make a short story long, a co-worker of my husband sent home a dozen home-grown eggs a few months ago. Instead of frying an omelet, my hubby incubated them. We faithfully turned the eggs twice a day, just as the Internet instructed. Within a few weeks, seven little chicks emerged. What a miracle! We own a hobby farm, and raise four breeds of ducks, but this was my first chicken hatching. Rhode Island Reds. Beautiful babies. We nurtured and fed them and watched them grow. Soon it was out of the brooder and into the chicken pen. Don had taken great care to critter-proof the pen, and the little chicks began to grow and thrive. Our seven little chickens transformed into four roosters and three hens. Since no one needs four roosters with only three hens, we gave away two of the guys. And since there’s no such thing as "critter-proofing" a chicken pen, after one horrific night, we discovered we had only one chicken left–a rooster. Poor guy. We now keep him in a dog carrier at night and let him wander around the yard during the daylight hours. He may be the Fulkerson Farms’ lone chicken, but he isn’t alone; he made friends with our cat. And their favorite hangout is the back porch. When we let the puppy out, the three of them romp and play around the backyard together. No one taught them cats are hunters and can kill a chicken if they so desire. No one taught them dogs chase cats and kill chickens. No one taught them roosters are notoriously mean and fight anything foreign to their territory. No one taught them those three species typically fear and sometimes even hate each other. What if no one taught children about hate?

Let’s Get Together!

Is it just me, or does anybody else forget to stop and smell the roses until you’re forced to do so? As many of you know, my Aunt Roberta died this week. She still lived in the town where my mother grew up. Okay, the word "town" is generous; less than 50 people reside there. Community. Just driving along the highway leading toward the little churchyard brought back countless memories. I reaquainted myself with cousins and childhood playmates, walked through the cemetery and visited my grandparents’ graves, drove by their old home place, and spent a number of hours sequestered in the car with my family, sharing memories of "Bertchie," as we called her. Why is it that it takes a funeral to bring about a day of gathering? People don’t gather like the once did. Family Reunions, Decoration Days, Picnics on the Grounds–all are becoming things of the past. "Distance Learning" is replacing the classroom. E-cards are replacing hugs. E-mail is replacing visits. I believe all the abovementioned things are good, and there is a place for them. I just want to remind everyone to not become so busy or self-absorbed as I have done to put off spending time with those who are important to you. Pick up the phone, or better yet, pick up the car keys and get together with someone you love. Thanks to all who have expressed their condolences to me and my family this week.

Pros and Cons of the Pooch vs. Paunch Plan

I recently read a piece touting a new way to lose weight: buy a dog. Having just purchased a puppy, I can assure you that this may not be the recommended weightloss program for everyone. Some things to consider before launching the pooch vs. paunch plan:

1. Dogs don’t speak English. Or at least mine doesn’t. Maybe it’s because she’s a dachshund, but no matter how many times I explain something to her, she tilts her head until one ear flops on the floor and gives me that "I’m too cute and adorable to potty outside" look.
2. Dogs are ALIVE. You want a walking partner? Buy a treadmill. Dogs require care. They need food, water, new leather furniture to chew on, underwear to drag across the house while you’re entertaining, and special shampoo to remove the stench of whatever they managed to rummage through when you left them outside to catch the phone. Tip: Get a portable phone.
3. Dogs have teeth and toenails. Enough said.
4. Dogs don’t always come when you call them. Well, maybe some dogs do, but mine doesn’t. I guess when put into perspective of using a dog as a weightloss aid, this could be a good thing. We live in the country and I’ve learned to put on my running shoes when I take her outside. Who would’ve thought a puppy with 2-inch legs could outrun a racehorse?
5. Dogs don’t eat table scraps. Well, they used to. Remember when we could sneak any questionable cuisine under the table to Fido? My vet cautioned that the fastest way to kill my family’s new dog would be to feed it what we eat. Does that sound scary to anyone else? So forget any thoughts of pawning off your plate’s excess to the pooch. Serve yourself smaller portions instead.

The whole point of the dog buying business it to encourage exercise. A recent issue of People outlined the diet preferences of several celebrities, each of whom had lost enough weight to compile a nearly a whole person. While each person chose a different plan, the common denominator in their success was WALKING. Each one walked consistently.

I’ve begun to incorporate short walks into my routine. Even five minutes here and there throughout the day will add up. It helps relieve stress, increases energy, and will contribute to improved health.

I’ve also reduced my intake of sugary sodas. That’s right, I used to drink at least three a day. This week I’ve substituted water, juice, and unsweetened tea for most of my fluid intake. I have had a few, but I’m getting out of the habit of using soda only to quench my thirst. And I’ve discovered that the other drinks do a much better job of that!

How’s your plan of attack going? Does it include walking? (With or without a dog!) Did you find something simple to change in your eating/drinking habits? I hope so. I’ve lost 4 pounds this week.

Where’d All the Time Go?

Is it just me, or does anyone else feel as though we need an extra week between Christmas & New Year’s? I mean, it’s really hard to get started on those resolutions while you’re still eating the two tons of leftover candy. Plus, who has their tree down by New Year’s Day? It’s impossible to "get organized" amid the piles of Christmas residue waiting to be hauled to the attic, loft, or shed. Yeah, one more week oughta do it.

How does one add a week to the calendar, anyway? And if I could pull of that trick, I could insert time whenever I’m in a pinch. Wouldn’t that be cool?

Dr. Laura once said that "time is the only non-renewable resource we have." If we spend our money, we can make more. If we lose our talent, we can practice and sharpen our skills once more. If we forget what we’ve learned, we can study and renew our knowledge base. Even if we lose our job, we can search for another. But if we waste our time, it’s gone. Kaput! Once a minute is spent, we can never retrieve it.

Sometimes it seems like a big Time Black Hole is hovering around me, sucking up minutes while I’m not looking. Usually it’s because I’m doing something non-productive. There is a time to lay back, but one of those resolutions is to wait for kick-back time until my to-do list is done.

There are tons of tempting time-tickers out there. The Internet, E-mail, the phone…the list goes on. We’re a week into the new year and I’m just beginning to focus on that list of goals. I bought some healthy groceries last night. I signed up for an exercise class. I got the refill pages for my planner.

But where did last week go? It slipped by so quickly. James says our life is like a vapor. We must take each day and live it to the best of our ability. Because once it’s gone, it’s gone.

Knock the Stuffing Out of Me!

Have you ever had a "eureka moment"? When something struck you and you’re thinking, "That’s it! That is what I’ve been trying to figure out my whole life!" Well, I just had one of those and my conclusion is this: I need to have the stuffing knocked out of me.

That’s right. I realized the answer to most of my life’s "issues" is too much stuffing. I stuff my face with food until I’m stuffed. Too often, I stuff so much activity into a day that if one event goes a minute over, I’m scrambling to make it to the next point on time. I stuff stuff in every nook and cranny in my house. I even own one of those over-stuffed recliners.

I’m thinking I’m not the only one with a stuffing problem, though. Most people in this country have too much stuff. Mini-storages are one of the fastest growing businesses. Obesity is on the rise. Landfills are overflowing. We’re all stuffed! Yet there are so many countries where they don’t have enough stuff (but that’s a whole ‘nother topic!)

During the holidays, I heard a home economist radio report explaining that stuffing the turkey is actually dangerous. It poses a risk of food poisoning if not done properly, and one should avoid stuffing the turkey altogether. So, even stuffing a turkey is bad. I guess it’s time to stop stuffing.

The two words in my blog title describe my life–unbalanced. Stuffed is not balance; it’s stuffed. Beginning today, I’m going to take advantage of my Eureka Moment and stop stuffing myself, my schedule, and my house. And I’m going to work toward unstuffing those stuffed spots, one at a time. I figure if I take just one drawer, cabinet, or closet section per week, within a few months I’ll see a major difference in my life. And if I stop stuffing my body and utilize my time more wisely, such as adding a short time of walking each day, within a few months, I’ll note a huge difference in how I feel. I’ll let you know how it’s going.

How about you? Do you need to knock the stuffing out? Share what works for you & how you’re doing.

‘Tis the Season to Resolve…Or Not

Is it just me, or does anyone else dislike the term “resolution”? The word stems from “resolute,” which describes an army’s firm stance against an enemy, and has a host of synonyms, including “unyielding,” “starched,” "inflexible,” “determined,” and, my personal favorite, “stubborn.” All characteristics my parents discouraged during my growing-up days.

Maybe my aversion to the word stems from my unsuccessful history with resolutions. It’s not that I’m against self-examination, evaluation, and improvement, but the task of writing down a laundry list of things I must repeat unfailingly for the next 365 days seems a little daunting to me.

Besides, for the past I-can’t-remember-how-many years, my list has consisted of the same items:

1. Lost Weight
2. Get Organized
3. Spend Less Money
4. Become more Spiritual

The fact that most of these grace the Top Ten Most Popular New Year’s Resolutions List is encouraging. It either means I’m fairly normal (questionable), or that others have failed to succeed in their past resolution attempts as well. The latter is most likely the accurate option.

Setting goals and/or resolutions at New Year’s is a long-standing tradition that dates back to ancient Babylon days. When the Roman Senate chose to change the calendar, January was selected because the god Janus has two faces: one to look backward and another to watch the future, representing a time of reflection and change.

After reflecting back, I’ve decided to watch my future from a different perspective in 2006, and, hopefully, increase my odds of success.Instead of referring to my I-wish-I-were-this list as “resolutions” and all the negative connotations contained within that term, I’ve chosen to dub the list, “GOALS.”

If "resolve" means a firm stance, and I yield to temptation even one time, I have already failed. A goal, however, simply defined, is a place toward which something moves. And, as in football, one can expect obstacles and setbacks along the route toward a goal. Yet, those setbacks and lost yardage don’t necessarily dictate failure; they merely offer an opportunity to get up and try again–sometimes using a different method.

No matter which term you prefer, take some time today to pause and reflect on the past and evaluate what changes could be made for the future.

Should I Diet or Exercise First?

This week I officially weigh 100 pounds more than I did the day I graduated from high school. My only saving grace is that I was exteremly underweight back then. My mother was so afraid I’d "dry up and blow away" that she force fed me. (No need for that today, Mom!) But still, 100 pounds is 100 pounds, no matter how emaciated I once was. I made the decision that 2006 is the year I’ll get off those extra pounds. Right now I’m in that pre-diet euphoric state, browsing through the dozens of diet books that line much of the bookshelf space in my home in hopes of finding "the perfect diet." Have you ever read any diet books? They’re pretty much all alike. The first half of each book is spent discussing why one needs to diet. I can answer that question with two words: I’m fat! But I suppose the publisher must have specified a word count, so diet book authors have fluffed up section one with topics that attempt to scare the reader into dieting, such as "The Psycological Effects of Caused by No Longer Being Able to Buy Clothes Off the Rack." (Ah, to be able to buy a garment again without trying it on first! *heavy sigh*) And the second half of the books are filled with usless recipes for dishes like "Braised Asparagus Spears Smothered with Poppy Seed, Watercress, and Caper Dressing." Does that sound appetizing to you? Give me a burrito supreme! So if you’re in the market for "the perfect diet" book–save your money. I suppose dieting is my weakness, however there is more than one way to shed a pound. I choose exercise! I doubt if I’ll sign up for aerobics, though. The last time I attended a high-impact class, I huffed and puffed enough to make the Big Bad Wolf jealous. The guy next to me yelled, "Are you okay?" "Do you know CPR?" I panted. When he shook his head, I stumbled over to the exit and never looked back. Since that day, my only form of exercise has been derived from wandering around the Wal-Mart parking lot in search of my car. So I joined the local Curves. They’re in the process of changing the name to "Bulges" now.