I Was a Chubby Bubbie

Last April I looked at myself and could not believe my eyes. In ten years I had added over thirty pounds to my 5 foot frame. “I was a chubby Bubbie!”
After visiting our family physician for a routine medical exam I was informed that I was a borderline diabetic, my cholestral level was very high and so was my blood pressure. The doctor (not my favorite person in the world) recommended a regimen of statins, diauretics and a slew of other meds. He also proceeded to inform me that based on my genetic history my “obesity” would definitely lead to a heart attack. I met with a dietitican from his staff, who felt that even if I changed my eating habits I could not lose enough weight to change the results of the tests without medication.
I then made a decision- I was off to Weight Watchers. Twenty -Five years ago I had become a lifetime member and although I had fallen off the wagon several times I always managed to get back on track and lose the weight necessary to feel and look better.
So, on the last Wednesday of April 2008 I headed to the nearest Weight Watchers meeting.
There I met Stephanie, a most inspiring and motivational lecturer. Stephanie was not only the leader of our group ,who had walked in our shoes, but she was also our mentor and kept us coming back for the weekly meetings. She made us feel welcome at every meeting and the group shared their successes and failures without ever feeling the threat of being judged. We all persevered returned weekly. and felt a kinship with our fellow weight watchers.
Well, it’s a year later, I’m not at goal yet but I have lost 26 pounds. I have several pounds to go for goal but that’s okay. It is the support of the group and the major and minor changes I have made in my life that really matters. The scale only indicates if I have learned all the new ways to deal with my former out of control eating habits. I am not following a diet I am following a healthy weight program. In fact, my blood pressure is normal, I am no longer a borderline diabetic and my cholesteral has dropped appreciably.
I’m still a Bubbie (grandma to 3 great grand kids) but everyone who has seen me have remarked that I’m really looking like a “Sexy Mama!” Wow! What a year can do!

The Sleepover

For those of you who have been reading Role Mommy for a while, then you know I am the ultimate Type A Career Mom. While I’m a perfectionist on the job, at home, I try not to take things too seriously and let things roll off my shoulders. So when my daughter recently asked if she could have a sleepover birthday party for 13 of her nearest and dearest friends, I didn’t think twice about it and gave her the green light.
The moms of her friends however thought I was certifiably insane. The comments ranged from pure admiration to total contempt.
“Are you sure you really want to go through with this?”
“Bless, you. Are you gunning for a Mother of the Year medal or something?”
“I think you’re nuts – have you ever spent a night with a dozen screaming fourth graders?”
Unfazed, I moved forward with the plan and a few weeks later D day arrived. We kicked off the party at a burger place near our house and at 7pm sharp, the girls started filing in the door. The decibel level instantly increased to a pitch that I think could be heard by dogs in the next county and while I kept insisting that the girls keep their voices down, the minute I walked away, the high pitched squeals kicked in again. But this time, a few of the fourth grade attendees decided to whip out their cell phones and start snapping pictures of the 21 year old waiter who was paying extra attention to our group of Zach and Cody fanatics. Every time he came over to the table, the girls started screaming in delight and one of them who was doing an impersonation of London Tipton thought she was being cute when she offered him her phone number and proceeded to take a photo with him.
At that point, I was completely appalled and told her to knock it off, she was being completely inappropriate and I warned that I’d confiscate the cell phones if the photo snapping of older boys didn’t stop. Next, when the party was over and we loaded the girls up in our cars, I managed to drive home the flirty girls. As I drove them back to our house, I eavesdropped on their conversation and learned that the same girl who wanted to give out her phone number had inappropriate photos of her dad on her phone. And then, they started talking about “making out” with guys. Making out??? These girls are only 9 and 10. I couldn’t help myself and asked, “Do you girls even know what making out is?” To which one of the smart mouths responded: “Sure I do, my brother taught me about it.” With that remark, I was speechless.
The kids then trounced into our house with sleeping bags in tow and proceeded to eat more – the debris the next morning included goldfish strewn all over the carpet, a half eaten peach under the couch, popcorn kernels and pretzel crumbs ground into the floor. They then watched movies, danced and goofed around and pretty much stayed up until 2 am until my DH parked himself on the second floor hallway landing and warned that if they didn’t go to sleep that he’d start personally driving the kids back home. Thankfully, that tactic worked.
By the next morning, the girls awoke at 7 am and while I was craving at least two more hours of sleep, I trudged down the steps, whipped up 40 homemade waffles with whip cream and berries for the girls. The plate was devoured within minutes and then my DH brought home a bagful of bagels and those went too. With their bellies full and their screaming batteries recharged, the girls danced in the living room until the doorbell rang and it was time for all of them to head home. And in a flash, the sleepover was officially over.
Any lessons learned from this latest over the top birthday party escapade? Absolutely – this was our first and last sleepover party for 13 girls. Next, we will have a no cell phone rule at all further birthday parties and finally, we’ll be watching our daughter like a hawk to make sure she stays away from the kid whose brother taught her to make out. Now on to planning my son’s party – a swim party for 20 of his nearest and dearest first grade friends. Nothing can go wrong with that one – except of course if the kids can’t swim…