I’ve been pondering a number of issues this month and some how I never got posts out. Here is a miscellany post about some of those issues on my mind.

Silence. I spent three days this month without a voice. At all. I could not speak above a whisper from Friday morning until Sunday night, even if I tried to force it. The effect of this on Paul was very interesting. Friday, he spent the day whispering back to me. The house was much calmer. I also noticed just how often I rely on a loud voice to get me point across. I yell up the stairs to Paul from downstairs to do something. I tell him in a loud voice how disappointed I am in something. I use my voice to lecture him. Without a voice, I found I had to rely a lot more on being close to him (obviously), to be more clear in my word choice (since tone of voice didn’t come through in a whisper), and to accept the fact that explaining something once has to be okay (because it hurts to repeat it). This is something I want to remember even when I do have a voice. Momma’s mood, tone of voice, and strength of voice impacts kid’s reactions (duh).

Babies. When Paul was newborn, I was very protective of him. I treasured the baby stages. I loved the newborn. I loved the infant. I did not want to share him with other moms. “Get your own baby!” I seriously thought. Then it took 18 months longer to have my second baby than I anticipated. Now, I understand. While I hope for at least one more baby of my own, every single time I pick up Caroline, I feel a sense of sadness at the thought that some day I won’t have a baby to treasure. And I do treasure every single moment. She’s getting old so fast, and now I know how quickly my baby will become a child. I don’t mind sharing my baby so much! And I’m taking extra care to cherish the cuddly moments with Caroline.

Sugar. When I was pregnant with Paul, I did not overdose on sugar. After he was born, I went a year without chocolates, candy, and extra cookies and ice cream (I did make cookies and eat ice cream, but I didn’t have too much). Sure, the severe abdominal attacks due to gall stones made a difference, but it also was not a part of the Australian culture to munch and snack all the time, especially not on high sugar foods. (Just eat an Australian “brownie.” I dare you.) It was not until I returned to the USA that I started eating candy again. I remember the first piece of candy: I was at a Relief Society meeting at the stake center and the tables were littered with small, bite-sized candy bars. Friends and I sat and chatted. I reach for a candy bar. I ate it, and then I ate another, and then another.

The last year has been the worst for my new addition to sugar. When I was pregnant, I bought birthday candy, Halloween candy, Thanksgiving treats, Christmas candy, candy for my birthday, Valentine’s day candy, and then Shamrock Shakes at McDonald’s. I’m now a bit out of control in my cravings for more sugar, more candy, and sweets in general.

To be honest, I feel it’s the church culture of food that makes it so hard to resist. I walk in Relief Society and the teacher says “I like treats,” and hands out chocolate mints. I go to an activity and there are cookies. I go to church on Mother’s Day and the Bishop hands me chocolate and Relief Society has cupcakes. Even my son comes home from church talking about his many treats, from chocolate (for answering questions! Really? For a four year old?!) to cheese sticks and crackers and fruit. I can’t go to church without being offered something to eat, most weeks.

Is my obsession with sweets and snacking the church’s fault? Obviously not. I choose to eat what is handed to me. I chose to buy an extra large bag of Halloween candy and then snack on it for the entire month of October. I obviously have a problem when I finish a meal and crave a desert. That is not only not necessary but it’s not healthy, and I know it. I felt fantastic the year I was in Australia, not snacking on sugar. I was not on anti-depressants and I still felt well.

I highly suspect that my sugar obsession is causing my depression to get worse. I have not read a lot about diet-controlled depression, but given how well (emotionally and mentally) I was during my low sugar time, I definitely see a connection. Further, the fact that I have gained weight since I came home from the hospital after childbirth is a big worry to me. Everyone said, “wow, you look fantastic!” to me in that first month. Yes, I pushed a baby out and weighed what I did before I got pregnant to begin with. I only gained about 10-15 pounds in that pregnancy. (I know, people “hate” me for this, but it’s beginning to catch up to me.) I now, five months later, weigh probably five pounds more than I did then. Paul asked me the other day if I have another baby in my tummy, something he did not ask me four months ago because I didn’t have such a little pouch.Truly, I’ve gained a pouch since I had my baby. It was not so pronounced the day I gave birth. (I was blessed that day, I get it. Still I’m a bit concerned at the direction this is going.)

I see a serious need for an exercise and for decreased sugar intake. I need to stop buying sweets and giving in to cravings. That first week last month when I told myself no more fast food was very hard. I could not believe how many times I found myself wishing for a shake. This month it’s a little better. Now I just need to learn to say “no” at church and other social events. I wish the church meetings (not to mention every thing else tempting me with sugar in this sugar-happy USA) would stop making it so hard!

The reasons behind the U.S.’s obesity epidemic is clear to me. It is so hard to resist.