5-4-3-2-Are you serious?

The 5-4-3-2-1-GO! project is a social marketing campaign aimed at preventing childhood obesity by promoting healthy eating and physical activity. The five main messages of 5-4-3-2-1-GO! are:
5 servings of Fruits and Vegetables every day
4 servings of Water every day
3 servings of Low-Fat Dairy every day
2 or fewer hours of Screen Time every day
1 or more hours of Physical Activity every day.

These are pretty simple, commonplace action steps for kids to take. That is, all of them but one–or more specifically “2”.

Two or fewer hours of screen time means two or fewer hours spent in front of a TV, a computer, or a video game console of any type. It means being intentional with screen time. It means practically impossible.

I’ve been going through the 5-4-3-2-1-GO! program with the kids from a couple of community centers, and sharing similar messages with kids at other schools. And I’ve never felt more hypocritical than when I’m sharing the “2” message.

A quick review of my screen time today:

0603-0646
Wake up to music on computer, get ready for work with the computer as a backdrop

0646-0700
Check e-mail, do SparkPeople.com,Score a couple MyPoints

0728-0745
Read blogs while brushing teeth, short break to clean bathroom sink and toilet

0800-1130
Check e-mails at work, e-mail 5-4-3-2-1-Go! partners, adjust lesson plans for 5-4-3-2-1-Go!, read grant requirements, create 5-4-3-2-1-Go! blurb for church bulletins, check grades, brainstorm 5-4-3-2-1-Go! stuff (all on the computer)

1225-1238
Check e-mail again, turn off work computer

1734-1814
Download some scrapbook freebies, look up some health related sites, catch up on home e-mail, catch up on blog reading (all while reading a flesh-and-blood/made-of-paper book)

1916-1934
Read blogs while changing into my swimming suit for a quick dip in the pool

2103-Present
Writing my blog

Which totals to 5.72 hours and counting. (And that’s excluding the computer being on while I was getting ready this morning.)

And I was TRYING to be good today. After all, I only talked to 4 different groups today about limiting screen time. So I intentionally DIDN’T turn on the computer as soon as I got home from work.

Now, why is so much screen time not a good idea?

For starters, check out your posture right now. I’m guessing it probably isn’t good. I know mine isn’t. Then there’s the fact that you’re sitting like a lump instead of moving around burning energy. And did you know that you blink less frequently than normal when you’re sitting in front of a screen? This contributes to dry eyes. And since you’re focused on a screen always at the same distance from your face, you are more susceptible to eyestrain. Screen time is negatively correlated with sleep quality and academic achievement in children; and is positively correlated with body image issues, violence, anxiety, and fearfulness.

So it’s definitely worthwhile to limit screen time. The question is, how?

Do you have any ideas? I could sure use them.


A Missed Opportunity?

“You can just move into that cubicle back there,” my boss/preceptor told me after she’d finished proofing a letter I was preparing to send off to one of the area priests regarding our 5-4-3-2-1-GO! program. “You can run this program.”

I didn’t know quite how to respond. ‘Cause my first thought is to jump on it–“Absolutely! There’s nothing I’d like better.” I’m excited about this project. I think it has a great concept. I like the experience that I’m getting while working on this project. The project appears to allow me to perfectly blend my visionary giftings with my administrative giftings. I love this project. And there’s nothing I’d like better than to see it to completion.

At the same time, I’m currently working for free. I’ve read a bit of this grant and I’m pretty sure they didn’t write in for an extra employee. I’m not going to work for free forever. ‘Cause my bills have to be paid, my tuition taken care of, and I need a little left over to save for a house. That I know of, the Lincoln-Lancaster County Health Department doesn’t have the funds to pay me what I need.

Besides which, I have a graduate assistantship for this fall that is covering tuition and paying me a stipend. I’ve already agreed to that. And that means I’ve agreed to work no more than twenty hours a week at all jobs (including my assistantship, a 20 hour position). Even if Charlotte could pay me, she probably couldn’t pay me what tuition remission comes to.

So I said nothing.

And now I’m second guessing myself.

What if she took my silence as “I don’t want to work for you”? What if she took it as “I hate this project”? What if instead of being the “I don’t know how to respond” that I meant, she took my silence as a “I don’t know how to say it without being rude, but NO WAY!”

Words come to me after the moment in which to say them has passed: “I’d love to stay with this project, but I’ve already committed to a graduate assistantship for the fall. But if you ever find yourself wanting to hire on a community dietitian, keep me in mind.”

Ah, well. Such is life. So I missed that opportunity; there’ll be more. For now, I’m practicing that response so that it’ll flow off my tongue the next time an opportunity arises. Because I’d really LOVE to work for Charlotte in community health.


Bits of this and that

I’m become a bit TOO familiar with the definition of the word paresthesia. (And for all you worry-warts out there, NO I do not have MS. It’s more likely a slight repetitive strain injury sustained while bicycling.

That’s right, I said bicycling. I’ve been doing a bit of it because Joanna and I (and maybe my mom and dad and her dad and brother) are going to try to ride the Cowboy Trail next year. Joanna and I did ~13 miles on Sunday, my folks and Anna and I did ~5.5 yesterday, and Anna and I did another 5.5 today. All in all, a fun time. Thank God for a nice cushy seat (or I’d be talking SADDLE SORE!)

Speaking of Joanna, I’m reminded that I need to get to work on another baby quilt (I’m reminded because we generally quilt together). A friend of mine in KC has a baby on the way and I’ve been invited to her shower next month. That means I’d best get moving. I wonder, does she know if she’s having a girl or a boy? (I seem to have a preponderance of little girl fabrics lying about.)

On a completely unrelated note, one of my favorite “male bloggers” wrote a couple of days ago about the Codex Sinaiticus. It’s online now. Really. Don’t I wish I could read Greek.

Another of my favorite male bloggers (okay, he’s the only other blogger in my “male blogger” folder) left a comment on his own page explaining a bit about the pirate poster. Really, I think our police chief is fantastic–and the pirate poster never fails to be amusing.

Did you know that ducks live in trees? Well they do. Really.

Earlier this evening, I Googled “how to twitter at someone.” It’s an unusual sensation–being technologically illiterate. You can follow me @bekahcubed.

And I’m clearly getting a bit spacey–since I just almost took my full round of morning meds instead of my evening ones. Maybe an indicator that it’s time to head to bed?

Ooo–except that I’ve got to get in a last comment. We ate the first tomato from my plants today! It was delish!


Plants need water

I’m considering myself a brand-new gardener, having never gardened successfully in the past. I have only gardened in the same way that Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, and American car companies have been successful business–via the bail-out.

It’s only my mom’s patient bail-out that kept our family from starving (okay, I’m exagerating a little) those years that I tried “taking over the garden.” I didn’t water often enough, didn’t weed often enough, lost interest before harvest came close. I was a horrid gardener. Mostly because I didn’t really tend the garden.

This year, I’ve been a bit better–probably because “gardening” is on my daily to-do list. Even so, I have days (or weekends) where I fail to care properly for my plants–and the plants suffer as a result.

My tomato plants needed water this weekend, water I didn’t give them. So now they look like this.

Tomato Plants

My tomatoes need water every single day.

So do I.

…My soul thirsts for You;

My flesh longs for You
In a dry and thirsty land
Where there is no water.

Psalm 63:1b


Evading Hypocrisy

In a last ditch effort to avoid hypocrisy after proclaiming (to my online class) that nutrition professionals should get familiar with current media and social-networking type sites, I have joined Twitter.

Yes. It’s ridiculous. I know.

Ultimately, it’s an ethical dilemma. Do I do as I say and get familiar with all the crazy technology and (ahem) time wasters of the present day? Or do I maintain my heretofore expressed disgust for said time-wasters?

While decrying the foolishness of this generation whiling away their lifetimes on the web, I find myself sucked deeper and deeper into its morass. I excuse the blog and website because 1) it allows me to develop my (marketable) skills as a web developer, 2) it allows me to hone my writing skills, and 3) it allows me to connect with (actual) people. I excuse Facebook because 1) it helps me keep track of people when they’re moving all around the globe and switching phones and addresses all the time, 2) it allows easy access to my fellow interns for class-related stuff, and 3) it helps me to stay up-to-date on what’s happening in the “CLAN” (my extended family). I excuse my blog reading because 1) it helps me connect with people I actually know, 2) it informs and entertains me, and 3) at least I’m reading ;-). I excuse occasional forays to YouTube in the name of staying culturally literate. And now I’m calling Twitter professional development?

I mean, seriously.

Next thing you know, I’ll be excusing online gambling or Match.com.

If you’re on Twitter too, add me to your (just a sec while I look up the lingo) follow me–my name(?) is “bekahcubed”. And don’t forget to leave me a comment with your name(?) so I can follow you.


Passable

I’ve been teaching myself to play the piano–making faltering steps then giving up, just to take the task up again later. The progress has been slow–after more than two years of off and on practicing, I’m still only in book 2 of Faber & Faber’s curriculum. In addition to my sporadic practice schedule, a primary contributing factor in my slow progress may be my difficulty in “passing” myself on to the next song.

Both of my sisters have mentioned it to me before: “That’s one of the advantages of having a teacher–they can tell you when to go on to the next song.” As it is, I have a tremendously hard time deciding when I can progress.

At first, I insisted on perfection. My notes must all be correct, my timing impeccable, and the dynamics appropriate. Which meant that I spent forever practicing the same several songs. The thing was, I got bored with the first few songs–so I kept adding more and more–but without giving myself permission to stop practicing the first few songs. So practice sessions grew until I was playing half the book every time I sat down at the piano.

Then, slowly, my sisters’ wisdom began to sink in. I didn’t have to be perfect. It was a waste of time and energy to continue to practice “Tinkling Windchimes” (made up name, not an actual song) in order to achieve perfection. I had already learned all that was necessary from practicing that song–I’d mastered the song–I just hadn’t performed it perfectly.

Today, I sat down at the piano and realized it had been almost a month since I’d “passed” a song. “I’m going to pass one tonight,” I spoke out loud, half to myself, half to my sister. “It’s been too long.” And I proceeded to play the song terribly. Never mind that I’d been playing it pretty well for nearly three months on a decently regular basis (3-5x/week). I played it just awfully. My timing was off, I was missing notes. It was horrid.

I observed that the harder I try, the worse I do–the more I strive after “perfection” the more I realize how far from perfect I am. But I refused to give up. I was going to pass a song tonight, I had decided. So, after a couple of false starts (caused by my trying to play and talk at the same time), I played the song through again. And this time, I only faltered once. “That’s pass-able” I told myself.

And that’s when it struck me. Passable. It’s a word I’ve always despised, equating it with mediocrity. Passable: (adj) satisfactory but not outstanding; adequate. And that is what it means. In one sense, that is. But passable also means “that which can be passed, traversed, or crossed.” Passable means I can move on.

Because if I truly want to achieve excellence, if I really want to be outstanding, I’m going to have to move past my mistakes and keep learning. At some point, harping on those mistakes became a hindrance holding me back rather than a tool to spur me forward. It’s that point that I must aim to find–the point at which something is “passable”.

What’s holding you back today? What area are you waiting to get perfect before you move on with your life? I encourage you to take a hard look at that situation. How important is it that that certain thing be perfect before you move on? Is your pursuit of perfection getting in the way of accomplishment?

Just like I had to “pass” myself on some of those simple songs in order to free up some time to work on the more difficult songs, maybe you need to “pass” yourself in that area so that you can move on to something else.

“Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid holdof me. Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”
Phillipians 3:12-14


An Inconvenient Convenience

I work within five minutes walking distance of both of my banks. So when I needed to transfer some funds this morning, I took off my lab coat and jaunted off for a quick walk. After all, it would take at least 5 minutes to get up to the parking garage and out of it. Then I’d have to tangle about in traffic just to spend another five minutes traversing the parking garage maze again. It’d be much simpler-and better for me–to walk. And so I did.

What I didn’t count on was my bank not opening their lobby until 8:30. So, when I got to the bank at 8:15, I couldn’t go in. I started on my way back, then stopped short, realizing that I wouldn’t have time to get anything done before heading back to the bank again anyway. So I walked up to the drive-through and tried to do it that way.

The teller wasn’t quite sure it was safe for me to walk up to the drive-through. Cars just speed up to those things, you know. She warned me to keep watching over my shoulder–but she did let me complete my transaction.

I got to the other bank around 8:20 to discover the same situation–but this time the drive-through was filled with cars. So I sat outside the doors for ten minutes until the lobby opened up. Then I deposited my money and walked back to work.

I understand the convenience of a drive-through bank window for some people–particularly for mothers of young children for whom unpacking everybody just for a quick deposit might be overkill, and for disabled individuals for whom getting out of a vehicle is a huge rigamarole. But for the rest of us, are drive-through windows REALLY that convenient?

Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer to walk into the bank. Yes, I have to turn off the car, leave the AC, and walk a whole twenty steps or so. But I get my money just as quickly, and I have personal contact with my bankers–such that they know who I am and recognize me when I come back in. On the other hand, driving through the drive-through means wasting gas idling while the person in front of me dinks about, it means messing with a machine that is nothing if not unwieldy, and it means opening my windows and letting the AC escape anyway.

It seems to me that the spurious “convenience” of the drive-through window is very little compared to the significant inconvience of not having the option of visiting the lobby. After all, since motor vehicles are the only entities generally allowed in drive-throughs, having only the drive-through open necessarily excludes at least three classes of people: those who walk, those who bicycle, and those who use public transportation.

What might be a “convenience” to some is just plain exclusive to others. And, an inconvenient truth regarding drive-through bank windows? They promote the waste of fossil fuels and the emission of greenhouse gases by idling vehicles, while penalizing those who choose eco-friendly forms of transportation (namely: walkers, bicyclists, and users of public transportation.)


Just About Everything

There isn’t enough time in a day to do everything. So I settle on doing just about everything. Still, I manage to get quite a bit done.

I got up today at 5:30–and as you can see, I’m just starting to wrap up now at 11:30. But check out what just about everything means today:

  • Get up :-P
  • Fix bed
  • Dress to shoes (Okay, you caught me, I’m going through my “Flylady” morning routine)
  • Fix hair
  • Do makeup
  • Take meds
  • Make and eat breakfast
  • Unload dishwasher
  • Devotions
  • Brush teeth (using left hand to increase the mental workout)
  • “Swish and Swipe” bathroom
  • Return a dozen items to their proper places (clearing the clutter in my bedroom!)
  • Do a ten-minute Spark People kickboxing workout.
  • Run to my parents to retrieve my baby shampoo
  • Take a dozen photos of the bunnies out back.
  • Renew my library books online
  • Assemble tonight’s dinner (a bean and tomato concoction I thought up last night)
  • Get car dropped off at the shop
  • Work a little over 8 hours (2 diet educations, 4 new admits, 1 follow up, 1 set of rounds. Not bad.)
  • Read an article on family mealtimes
  • Pray over a couple dozen issues while taking the stairs at work
  • Read a chapter on Nutrition programs for children
  • Pick car up from shop
  • Go grocery shopping
  • Water indoor plants
  • Start yogurt going
  • Enjoy a leisurely discussion with roommates
  • Work on quilting
  • Practice piano
  • Make tomorrow’s lunch
  • Go to Ice Cream with friends–and have a great chat about…what we don’t talk about (in mixed company)
  • Check Lincoln’s “Dial-a-Registered-Dietitian” voicemailbox
  • Practice recorder
  • Read all the new posts on class discussion board. Respond appropriately.
  • Write reactions to family mealtime article on discussion board
  • Create job description for marketing project
  • Set out clothes for tomorrow
  • Read a chapter of a novel
  • Catch up on a few blogs
  • Post on my own blog

And now I should probably work on the last thing on my list–getting ready for bed.

It’s been a full day today–but Mary’s Fuller! That is, tomorrow is likely to be full too–so I’d best get a bit of sleep before tomorrow begins!


The Next Generation

My family has been going on “romps”–long rambling walks through the pastures of my grandparents’ property–for as long as I can remember.

In the beginning, we romped our way to the old stove, where my mom and aunts used to use cowpies as pretend food to be cooked on the wood-burning stove.

The cousins set off for a romp

Later on, we romped across fields and through pastures in a circuitous route to the “crick” for some “wading”.

The windmill--or at least the bottom of it

And most recently, we’ve romped through the little stream right below Grandma and Grandpa’s house, out through a few pastures and to the windmill and the “cracks.”

This weekend, I saw that my grandparents were a bit weary and the younguns’ far from worn out–and so I began to gather whoever was willing for a romp. One cousin heard that there was a romp in progress and asked my Aunt Martha, who has been the instigator of romps for as long as I can remember, what the plan was.

Anthony in the 'cracks'

She said she didn’t know. That I was planning it. That maybe it was time to pass romps on to the next generation.

Which got me thinking. Aunt Martha was my age when I was born. She probably wasn’t much older than I when she instigated the first romps. And from my earliest memories, she was the fun-planner for the family. She had funny stories to share, she had gifts for everyone, she had some way to make each kid feel oh so special.

The whole crew at the top of a hill

And now I, the next generation, have the opportunity to do the same.

I thought of it as I walked along beside my young cousin, discussing long legs and whether our other little cousin came along just to have some one to talk at. I thought of it as I called some cousins near to show them gooseberries–and to encourage them to give one a try–even if they are rather tart. I thought of it as I held open a half a dozen barbed wire fences so children could slip between the wires. I thought of it as I untied the water bottle from my waist so a straggler could have a drink from the windmill-pumped well water. I thought of it as I assisted cousins across the boggy little stream as we neared home.

On the way home again

I thought, “Wow. I really am the next generation.”

And I thought, “I couldn’t do it better than my aunt Martha–but I’m sure gonna try to do it just as well.”