Today is Monday, June 18th. With every passing day I realize just how much my life is it's own story--not story like documentary story, but story like sitcom!
Yes, I know this is supposed to be a blog about Paleo living, eating, cooking, yada-yada; and here I am delving into "My life, the sitcom" mumbo jumbo. It's reasonable for me to say that in order to really understand me and my day-to-day, you have to kinda get to know my surroundings--my home, my husband, my animals, and (bless their hearts) my parents. This by no means is a shot at my beloved mother and father, because (of course) without them yours truly wouldn't be here to enlighten your world with all of my nutrition-wonderfulness, right?! Let's just say that the two of them not only provide me with the unconventional love expected of parents to their (only) child; BUT they are an endless source of entertainment for me and my husband. I love them with all of my being, however sometimes I have to say that I may find myself snickering (if not sometimes snearing) behind their backs!
Let's start with Dwain--my precious daddy (and yes I still call him that, and will until the day I'm pushin' up daisies!). He's of a different generation, a good 10 years older than my mom and on into his "retirement," though he still goes to work just about every week even if all the workday entails is drinking coffee with the other older folks in the shop. I shouldn't say that, most of the time he's there he's the one doing all the hard labor that building machines involves even though he's so beaten down from a lifetime of just that! Anyway, let's just say he's set in his ways--a good 'ol country boy, born and bred to work hard. sleep little and take care of his family. He doesn't know healthy eating. His idea of a good lunch is a peanut butter and banana sandwich (with the addition of mayonnaise!). He's got a few health problems, including an adulthood of high blood pressure that's had him in the hospital a few times over the years. Despite this, he remains a pharmaceutical guinea pig, reporting the doc every 6 months or so to receive yet another experimental blood pressure-regulating cocktail. I think he has the desire to be healthy, but the know how just isn't there and my teaching him--as I've found--is out of the question. What's interesting about my daddy, however, is that as Korey and I have embraced the Paleo lifestyle by eating organically and sourcing our meats from reputable farmers, he's doing his best to understand and appreciate the reasons why we choose to do so. Maybe there's hope that he'll be on board one day, but as for now he'll eat whatever is put in front of him by my mom who does the shopping and the cooking.
My mom, Margarget. Love her dearly. I'm her only child and I know that she loves me with every cell in her body, there's no question about that. She's the product of a broken marriage--independent at an early age, marrying my dad and acquiring two step-daughters when she was twenty years old. A move to the country from the city wasn't where she expected to end up in life, but she's obviously accepted it as how it is and has been there ever since. She's very intelligent and witty and opinionated, all of which I adore about her, but now that I'm an adult it seems we tend to but heads on a lot of things--mainly my lifestyle and "new" way of eating. She's been on this journey with me as I've been diagnosed with my autoimmune issues. Not knowing much about the body and how the immune system can actually attack YOU and not just BAD STUFF INSIDE OF YOU, she doesn't quite understand the complexity of why a childhood of eating the way I did growing up could have contributed to a lot of my issues. I often feel bad that she must in some way feel responsible, especially since I've tried to explain to her that there's a strong genetic component with things such as gluten sensitivity and celiac disease. She's got a few of her own health issues. Much like dad, her blood pressure has a tendency to run high. As far as I know, the rest of her blood work checks in "okay," but as you'll eventually learn about me, I'm a firm believer that conventional parameters are a bunch of crap when it comes to diagnosing chronic illness. She, too, doesn't eat healthy food. I'm pretty sure she still cooks the same way she did when I was growing up: a meat, a veggie, and a starch (a lot of which came out of box...think Rice-a-Roni or Velveeta Shells and Cheese). Can't really get over the convenience factor, I suppose. I'm also pretty sure that they order a lot of take out these days for the lack of desire to cook once she gets home in the evening. It truly worries me--now that they are getting older it seems, to me, that they should be putting an even greater effort, but that's simply not the case. Let me reiterate that I love my mother so much, but I've given up on discussing healthy eating habits with her. Not sure what the mental block is, but I can only be called "dictatorial" so many times. You can only help someone that wants to be helped.
Now you've gotten the idea of where I come from and atleast my closest genetic contributors. Interesting duality isn't it? Now, as you know, I haven't always trekked down a path of healthy living. I was a product of my upbringing, like my dad I ate what was given to me--and gladly so, I may add. I was an overweight teen and young adult. I overate. I binge ate. I didn't exercise. I hated the way I looked and the way I felt. All the while my parents would have never guessed my struggles. They loved me no matter how I looked, and as far as they knew I felt fine.
Now that I'm grown and going on thirty, the whole concept that I will no longer eat the way they eat is still very foreign to them. Like I mentioned, daddy is trying to understand. Mom tries to understand why, but I believe she's still somewhat skeptical and wants to write everything off as radical and fanaticism. She thinks I'm unhealthy because I'm thin, not realizing how unhealthy I was when I was fat. Frustrating! Try as I may with my mom, no good doctor report trumps a mediocre one--it's all not good news as long as I'm still thin. (Note: When I mentioned "snearing," this is when that would occur!)
As for all of that, I've come to terms with the fact that no matter how healthy I am physiologically, as long as I appear "too thin," I can't possibly be healthy. I've also come to terms with the fact that trying to explain otherwise does me no good, unless confrontation is a good thing. So, I just eat what I want to eat and try not to look when I see them eat what they want to eat. I just wish they could afford the health I have found, simply by changing what they put on their plates. Sadly, the connection of food and health is still completely foreign to them, especially my mom. I hold out hope for one day, but right now I'm at peace with knowing that I've done what I can to help...take it or leave it.
I won't get into the sitcom portion of my story today, as I've already rambled sooo much about the parentals already. Sometimes it takes an actual event to spawn and interesting description. Leave it to nature and soon there will be a post about how comical my life can be. Right now I want to leave you with the fact that I want nothing but health and happiness for my parents. I have hoped that they would follow in the same foot steps as I have, gradually learning the do's and don'ts of how to eat for longevity and against chronic illness. Fingers crossed they come around because I want them around....forever.
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