Lost & Found & Gone Away

Lost

38 or so pounds since this time last year, and less than 10 of those were surgically removed.  Weight Watchers... it's a love-hate relationship.
8 cup sizes.
The need for perfection.  I can't do it all or be it all, nor do I want to anymore.  I am learning to calmly ask Tom for help when I am tired or overwhelmed by life, rather than the routine every-other-Sunday night fight that I am guilty of picking after I am tired from working & the house isn't "perfect."
The ability to wear my wedding ring on my left hand.  I outgrew my gold band when I was pregnant with Colby, but Tom gave me a ring for Christmas last year with all our names stamped on it that was too big for my ring finger, perfect for my middle finger.  With lymphedema, jewelry on my left arm is just asking for more trouble.  I can't get used to rings on my right hand, but I am trying.

Found

Too small shorts that aren't too small anymore.
2 cup sizes back, 1 fill at a time.  But I still have issues when I look at my disproportionate chest & belly sizes.  One pound, one week, one meal at a time.
A desire to get back to scrapbooking.  I have way too much time on my hands til the next schedule at work starts, and think I will fill it by doing something with all the old pics shoved in the basement closet.
A desire to simplify life, to be able to find things easier by owning less things in general.  My thought for when we build (next summer, maybe?  Anyone want to buy a really cute starter home?) is that I want twice the space and only move half the stuff.

 

 

Gone or Put Away

Wig, shampoo, styrofoam head.  I cleaned out the bathroom closet yesterday.  It was fun to dump the shampoo down the drain & toss the bottle into the recycling.  I think I will let the boys decorate the styrofoam head for Halloween before it goes away.
Port-a-cath numbing cream, all of the chemo pre & post meds, leftover wound care stuff.
Closet clutter.
Bookshelf clutter.  They are still full, but hopefully of meaningful stuff, not magazines from 2010.  In watching too much HGTV in this season of life, I don't want a perfectly matching living room full of eclectic pieces I just bought.  I want a living room full of stuff that means something to us.  I like the family pics and Willow Tree figurines that memorialize moments in life.  The cancer clutter that had begun to take over the bookshelves, not so much.