Saturday, March 3, 2012

#26: My Bad, Apparently I'm Irish

Holy Hell ... What day is it? Today is March 3, aka 3/3, aka the 3rd day of the 3rd Challenge and the 3rd month. This should probably be going somewhere, but it isn't. 


I'm pretty sure I'm almost thru this withdrawal. Altho today has been rough. I made it until about 5pm today without feeling the pain. But when the headache hit, I was totally unprepared. I wasn't at home, didn't have any pain killers with me and wasn't expecting it. The lack of headache had convinced me that I was as awesome at caffeine withdrawal as I am at everything else in my life and had mastered it in half the time that all the research said I would. But nope. I guess it just take longer to hit each day of the withdrawal. 




I have to admit that the pain made me weak. We were having dinner out and I asked the waitress to bring me a cup of half decaf, half regular coffee and I had 3 sips. I knew I wasn't supposed to have it, but I was pretty sure the chipper waitress wasn't going to make it to the end of our meal if I didn't have it. On my side was the fact that (A) the coffee sucked so I didn't want any more than I needed, and (B) I sent it away as soon as I'd had the four sips so I wouldn't be tempted. 


But really, in the past two days I've managed pretty well. The headache has been pretty well taken care of by Aleve and the occasional Vicodin. That's appropriate, right? I've replaced the coffee in the morning with tea so that I still have a drink each morning in my routine. So far, so good, but I'm going to have to find some other flavor before this month is over because it's not really cutting it. 


TEA ... yay.


What's really been impressive is that my children are clearly plotting against my progress without caffeine by scheduling their activities and social life in the worst possible way. Last night I had to pick up The Son, The Nephew and Bonus Son up at the movies at 12:08am. And then I had to be up at 5:30am to take The Nephew to his Track Meet. When I got home, The Toddler and The Princess thought it would be the best time to both arrive in my bed. But I'm no ordinary mother -- I just ignored them, rolled over and went back to sleep. 3 year olds make hot chocolate on gas stoves all the time, right? 


Seriously tho, the lack of caffeine really isn't the biggest issue. I love coffee and I appreciated the freedom to drink it as I pleased. I had also come to enjoy a good diet coke when I was eating out. But it's the coffee way more than the soda. I really used it for comfort too, especially when I was trying to be good about not using food for comfort. When I was stressed or sad or feeling anxious or emotional, a foamy vanilla latte was just the cure. Every time. 


It's also messing with my mental capabilities. I'm a little less sharp, more forgetful and all over the place. Is there a word for that? But I am also finding it really interesting that this Challenge is the one I've been most dedicated to. I'm really surprised to be finding that out. There were a lot of moments where I wanted some really carby-carbs in January and I knew if I cheated no one would really have to know if I didn't want to know. And I caved a time or two, even tho they weren't big. In February I was imperfect and inconsistent and then had to forgo the hard-core cardio altogether. It wasn't something I was happy to do, but it wasn't that hard for me either. But in every moment that I've wanted to cave and go straight to Starbucks or the soda machine, I've needed only myself. I haven't thought for more than half a second about heading for the IV-caffeine before the angel on the other shoulder reminded me how much getting thru this means. Proud of myself!!!




And it will only get easier. I'm planning on day five being a piece of cake and then it just being a matter of finding new ways to feed my emotions. Are there any vices that are beneficial?? Or would that be an oxymoron?


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I have a retraction, of sorts to make, before I sign off. I received an email tonight from my sweet Colorado Uncle with what he called a rebuttal to my last blog post where I said some un-nice things about Irish. The short version is that I'm part Irish. 


Whoops. 


This means I have to stop wearing shirts like this:



and start wearing one this this?






I knew my dad and his brothers were all given Irish names, some even got Irish middle names. I just thought my grandparents had a fetish. Now I've learned that my GreatGreatGreatGrandmother was 100% Irish. Her name was Catherine Woodward Moir/Keating and being her descendant makes me 3.125% Irish. And, according to my retired-teacher Uncle's math, my kids 1.56%. I'd like to take back the mean things I said about the Irish because I would never speak ill of my children. At least not where they could read it. Or where it's eternally cemented. Or for things they can't control - like being Irish. 


Poor things. 


I'm really going to have to come to grips with this Irish thing because I enjoy teasing some of my Irish friends relentlessly. I guess I'll mull it over over this pint of Guinness and a Jameson chaser.


Wait - does this mean I'm just being cultural if I start my morning with Baileys in my coffee. If I was allowed to drink coffee, of course?


SLAINTE!
(That's Gaelic for "CHEERS!")

Thursday, March 1, 2012

#25: And the Banging Headache MARCHes In

Jeezus, HELLLLLLLOOO March. 

Usually March is great. Usually.
Usually it's the month of many great things. 
Unfortunately, it's also the month I have decided to torture myself by eliminating caffeine.

NORMAL MARCH:
The birth month of my oldest daughter!
The second greatest sports competition each year!
The only day the Irish can legitimately excuse their ridiculous drinking and belligerent behavior. 
Spring Break and sunny weather!

MARCH 2012
WHAT WAS I THINKING???
================================================================


So how has this year's formerly fantastic month of March gone so far? Not great, people. Not great. 


For starters, I woke up late this morning. 2 hours late, to be exact. With 30 minutes until we had to walk out the door to get the girls to school, there was exactly ZERO minutes left for the gym, bathing the kids, breakfast. My shower lasted 2 minutes, I'm pretty sure my outfit didn't match and my make up was CLEARLY done in a hurry. When I went downstairs to make the morning hot chocolates, steamed milk and coffees (Yeaaahhh, I heard how high-maintenance that sounded as I typed it), I got halfway into the coffee and realized - DAMNIT!!!! - I can't have coffee. 


Today of all days. This morning of all mornings. 


NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!


So, I made The Toddler's Hot Chocolate, which she calls a Mocha. I made The Princess' Steamed Milk, because she has been banned from high sugar levels. And I just stared at my poor, lonely coffee mug. 


I rushed the girls out of the house, Go Cups in their hands and shoes barely on their feet, and headed off to drop offs and to work. 


For the love of God, that was the longest drop off routine ever. It was 7:45am, an hour into my day, and I was already seeing how hard it was going to be to get thru it all uncaffeinated. But, wait, it gets worse: my morning meeting was at STARBUCKS. Are. You. Kidding. Me.


I've explained that I don't have many vices. I don't smoke, drink or do drugs. Well, I drink, but I probably average one drink a month. And by average, I mean that I drink 2-3 drinks every 2-3 months. But I drink coffee. I love it in the morning and I love it the exact way I make it with strong French-Roasted Costa Rica beans in a Press. But when I'm having a day where I'm really stressed or really anxious, I feed my need with a Vanilla Latte - full fat - 130 degrees. Always the same drink. So now, here I am, Day One of the March Challenge to go without caffeine and I'm sitting at effing Starbucks. 


Side Note: Is it a coincidence that today was the first time I noticed how annoyingly chipper their staff are? I really wanted to tell the flamboyant, happier-than-anyone-legally-should-be cashier to shove it when he asked for my order. But I guess it's not really his fault that today was March 1st, aka the 1st day of Hell month. It took me about 5 minutes to decide what drink I wanted. And I ended up with an incredibly underwhelming Vanilla-Something-Or-Other Tazo Tea. Thanks for nothing, Howard Schultz and Co. 




I had no idea that this would be this irritating this fast. I mean, for goodness sake, it was only 9am and I was contemplating how many ways I could ruin people who wronged me. Is it inappropriate to ram the back of a car because I don't like its bumper sticker? Is it excessive that I wanted to run down the guy who thought to pair a neon orange shirt and turquoise cargo shorts? And what about all the torturous things I considered doing to the woman who answered the phone at New York Life like today was the best day God had ever granted her? I know I'm not the most Polyanna-like person to start, but I'm usually much more tolerant. 


God help these poor people who are going to deal with me over the next few days of withdrawal.


I did make it thru the meeting and manage to be quite productive. 
I had multiple pleasant conversations with my staff and coworkers. 
I even smiled at strangers.


But then, at the end of the afternoon, my head began to pound. Not in the way your head hurts right after you've heard music too loud. More in the way your head hurts after the UT Marching Band finishes playing its Fight Song INSIDE your head. Holy Hell. So, there I am at 4:45, on the way to an appointment with my 14-year-old, and I can barely think clearly from the pain. I've already downed all the Aleve and Ibuprofin medically advisable. And the Vicodin chaser wasn't helping either. The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf across from his appointment was too much for me to handle. I succumbed to the pain and ordered coffee. 


I should get some credit tho - I normally order a triple and I ordered a half-decaf-double (for those who aren't math-adept, that's a single shot). I'm just gonna go ahead and admit that the euphoria I felt after the first sip only fully highlighted how horrible this addiction is. PRE-COFFEE: I swear I felt like my head was going to implode. POST-COFFEE: Relief. Happiness. Heaven. 


So, maybe not perfect, but not too bad, I don't think. And hopefully tomorrow I won't need any at all. 


But the truth is, all I'm really doing is counting down the days until April when I can get right back on the coffee-horse and what methods will get it in my system the fastest. 


 ::ANSWERS::




and





*SIGH*