I used to be fat

The New TV show starts tonight on MTV, I used to be fat. It follows overweight teens who have just graduated from high school, and gives them the tools that they need to overcome their weight problems. http://www.mtv.com/shows/i_used_to_be_fat/series.jhtml

Well, I used to be fat. I was always the heaviest girl in my class, and many times I was heavier than most of the boys in my class. I always had friends, and never got down on myself like so many overweight kids do. Maybe it's because I had an amazing family and friends who never criticized me for my size, but instead encouraged me to get healthy with family workouts to Richard Simmons sweating to the oldies, and an exercise chart where we earned stars for our healthy habits.

My Best Friend Stephanie and I circa 1997

It was not until my weight became a health concern that my lifestyle changed. I remember spraying pam into my mouth because it had no nutritional value and no calories. But again, my family ate what I ate, well aside from spraying Pam in their mouths. I was never singled out.

Sure, I got made fun of: I remember vividly, walking up the stairs and one of the older boys making a loud beeping noise, simulating the noise a large truck would make when backing up, or walking down the hall and someone saying mooooove implying I was as big as a cow. Instead of getting down on myself, or doing something harmful I think that all of these things softened my heart. It made me more cognoscente when I went to say a mean or hurtful thing to someone, and made me want to be a friend to all.

Years later I can look back on all of these things and laugh. Being fat never defined who I was because I didn't let it, and those around me wouldn't have allowed it. Even at my heaviest I was still out there on the soccer field playing my heart out, or in the middle of the sleeping bags at a slumber party, and of course the first one to ask for seconds at a birthday party.

I've come to accept the fact that i will never be the skinniest of my friends, and that's ok. Body image will always be something that hits close to home with me, but also a victory for me and how far I've come. In March, God willing, I will complete my first half marathon, and I can proudly say, I used to be fat, but not anymore.

faith

Some people say I have too much, some say I fall too hard, and love too deeply. they're usually the ones picking up the pieces when my faith gets the best of me.

I believe in God, I pray every night, but I'm not so sure I would consider myself to be an incredibly religious person. Yes, some of my faith does come from religious virtues, but a lot of it comes in other forms.

A simple good deed done by a stranger, neighbors helping neighbors in good times and in bad gives me faith in humanity.

knowing that no matter what I do, or have done - whether it be rack up some pretty hefty credit card bills, or lying about getting my ears pierced, I've got family and friends who love me unconditionally gives me faith that undying love exists.

I have faith in my dreams and in my future for what lies ahead because of those who have done it before me, do it with me, and for those who stand behind me.

I believe in happy endings, that some dreams really do come true, and the ones that don't make room for new ones. I believe that it's easier to see the good in others, until the bad is just too blinding, and even then sometimes it takes being in complete darkness to really see the light.

my faith is what gets me into trouble, what keeps me going, and what I can't live without.

"a little faith will bring your soul to heaven,

but a lot of faith with bring heaven to your soul."

Monkvember

Diet Coke is my crack. I would rather have a diet coke than anything else to drink; I crave that bubbly goodness.

Patience and Self-Control are both virtues that I do not possess, or at least so I thought. A few weeks ago, my good friend Sarah { Sarah of Goldman/Hines Productions Inc} was telling us about Monkvember. Kind of like lent, but it's a month to not only give up certain things but also to do things that better yourself.

I've never successfully completed lent. I've tried giving up chocolate or swear words, and I find myself eating a piece of chocolate without even thinking about it and them damning myself for doing so, thus ruining lent in one, no pun intended foul swoop. I liked the idea of Monkvember because I saw it more of a challenge than penance.

So my list of Monkvember is:

Limit myself to no more than one Diet Coke a day

Run at least 15 miles a week

Cook at least two legit meals a week

talk to my grandmother at least once a week

Read at least 75 pages

As you can tell by my list I opted for the better yourself choices as opposed to the do without choices. All of the things on my list were carefully picked. They are things that I want to do, but sometimes need an extra push to get them done. Luckily for me, my friends have got my back so if we're out and I go to have another diet coke it's " We're going to tell Sarah" or " haven't you already had a diet coke today". I'm hoping to keep up with my choices even beyond Monkvember.

Half way through with the month and so far each week I have stuck to my Monkvember. I can successfully call myself a recovering diet coke addict at this point. Now, maybe someday I'll work on getting rid of the self tanner.

Small Town Southern Man

Class of 1938 from the Virginia Military Institute, a self-made man working his way up through the ranks, Perry M. Gwaltney Jr is the greatest Veteran I know.He signed up for active duty for the 116^th Field Artillery, Florida National Guard. My granddaddy was stationed in Okinawa, Japan during World War II.

My Grandaddy: Perry M. Gwaltney, Jr.

He would rarely talk about his time in the military always changing the subject to something more pleasant. But one thing he would gladly talk about day and night was his time at VMI. He wore his class ring everyday, and when it was time to get dressed up he would proudly sport his VMI tie. I"m honored to have that same tie and his diploma hanging on my wall. A constant reminder of his hard work and dedication to give himself and his family a better life.

Allegheny Country Club, Sewickley, PA where we spent our summers

He worked at the Pentagon for the water port general staff once he got home from the war. His work was top secret, in the messaging department for General Marshall and lasted several months until be began working at Chubb and Son. With a degree from Harvard he was a force to be reckoned with.

Chubb and Son was referred to as “ the tiffany’s of the business” and provided my granddaddy a home until his retirement. He worked as an underwriter for the company. It came as no surprise that he worked his way up in the company to director and ultimately senior vice president.

Cartoon that hung in my grandparents house.

He loved to read, eat, play golf, and tennis, but above all else he loved to spend time with his family. Every Tuesday and Thursday my granddaddy and I would have phone dates. It was mostly me talking about school, parties, college life, friends, boyfriends, etc, he was always a great listener, probably because he was so shocked at the things I would share with him. He would always tell me to work hard, and encourage me to follow my dreams. He served our country and protected our freedoms, and for that I will forever be thankful. He was a man of true integrity, and a true gentleman. So granddaddy I salute you and all of the other men and women who have so bravely served our country. I hope that he's letting the cheap vodka flow up there in Heaven.

A proud Granddaughter... let the legacy continue

And he bowed his head to Jesus
And he stood for Uncle Sam
And he only loved one woman
(He) was always proud of what he had
He said his greatest contribution
Is the ones you leave behind
Raised on the ways and gentle kindness
Of a small town Southern man
(Raised on the ways and gentle kindness)
(Of a small town Southern man)

Well-Behaved Women Rarely Make History

Frances Hadley, the Matriarch of the Hines family, the original Hadley, and my namesake is my inspiration for this entry. My grandmother, or Grandma as we call her is the epitome of a Southern Lady: She is always well put together, a wonderful cook, loving mother, wife, grandmother, great grandmother, and friend, she's in a book club, active in her church, not afraid to tell you like it is, comes with a thick Southern Accent, and she could probably drink you under the table.

My Grandma & Me

Many of my fondest memories with her occurred in the kitchen. Sadly, her wonderful culinary skills weren't passed down to me, but I'm still a work in progress. Thanksgiving has always been in Georgia with the Hines side of the family, and with my grandma at the helm of the meal. It was not until recently that she's relinquished some of the cooking duties to other members of the family { and why not, my cousin Alan is a chef and my aunt Chap is a great cook!} Grandma's always humming, or whistling while cooking, that is one thing I got from her. I always love to have music on when I'm cooking, because Lord knows no one wants to hear my humming or singing while cooking.

She always tries to make things special for everyone. My dad LOVES cherry pie, so every Thanksgiving, even though it's not the traditional dessert she would make him a "chewwy pie". Birthdays in my house have always been a very big deal. That's your day that you feel special, get to choose where to eat, and what kind of cake you get. I have a feeling my love for birthdays and making others feel so special has something to do with her.

Some of the Hines women

My grandma has just recently undergone a hybrid open heart surgery, and has begun her road to recovery surrounded by family and friends and well wishes from all over the country. I know that the original Hadley has got a fighting spirit, and I've already told her not to worry about Thanksgiving because I may not be incredibly skilled in the kitchen, but I am damn good at giving orders. I know she'll be back to normal and better than ever in no time because she certainly lives by the creed " Well-Behaved Women Rarely Make History"

LYLAS

Love Ya Like A Sister:

This term became pretty popular when I was in elementary school, and has since faded away into overused slang heaven. So I've decided to revisit it. Although it's cheesy it also has great truth to it. I am blessed to have an amazing big brother, whom I love more than anything, let me just say that first and foremost, I would not trade him for the world. But as many girls do, I always wanted a sister: someone to share makeup and clothes with, talk about boys, etc. Although I may not have any of blood relation, I'm damn lucky to have some friends who I consider to be more like my family.

Stephanie, Jordan, Elizabeth, & Sarah have all been some of my best friends for what seems like to be forever. We've been through disasters, deaths, divorces, dumpings, delinquency, and all that falls in between. They have all supported me at my worst and been my biggest cheerleaders when I was at my best.

Stephanie and I met in the first grade during our brothers Cub Scout Meeting. We were sitting on the swing set at our Elementary School sipping on lemonade. You know the phrase opposites attract? Well, physically Stephanie and I were as different as night and day. Many referred to her during her childhood as Anne Frank, super skinny with dark hair, braces, big glasses, and some thick bangs. If you've read my previous blog entries you know that I was the fat girl, with light hair, and squinty eyes. Obviously, we were the perfect match; SS & HH. She pushes me to do things outside of comfort zone, reminds me to take time for myself, constantly tells me how it is whether I want to hear it or not. I think my mom puts it best, " She's just Steph. tride and true. She will always be there."

Jordan and I met before we started Kindergarten at a birthday party. She was my very first friend at St. Paul. We were both daddy's girls,loved all things girly, boy crazy, and always getting in trouble for talking. Fast Forward to 20 years later and if you met us individually you would never think we could be best friends. Jordan is always wearing the latest trends, partying at the coolest places, and never ceasing to amaze me with her fashion choices. I wear my little sun dresses and Ann Taylor sweaters. She is my humor, my advice giver, my reassurer that everything is going to be ok even if it feels like it won't be, and the best hugger, and she's promised me when I get married she'll take the black nail polish off.

Elizabeth & Sarah were mentioned in a previous post so I won't bore ya'll with repeating our story. Neither Elizabeth or Sarah are super emotional:Everyone knows I'm the first to say how much I love them, or how grateful I am for their friendship so I think jokingly when we would return to our respective homes { all on the same street} our parting words would be LYLAS, how appropriate. Back then it was a joke, but those girls truly are family.

We may not dress alike, have the same taste in music or boys, at times we're a bit dysfunctional but that's what makes us, us. There's a quote that I love about best friends : "We're best friends because our mothers couldn't have handled us as sisters." so ladies, LYLAS.

Things Remembered

Annoyed. Why is Things Remembered so crowded on a rainy Wednesday night I thought to myself as I waited in a long line to get a gift engraved.

So in true Hadley fashion I turned to the woman and her son waiting next to me in line and struck up a conversation. The son was picking up his attendant gifts for his wedding in three days. We talked about his big day, the rehearsal dinner, and the honeymoon. The mother just smiled and commented here and there about her "baby's" big day. She later told me how embarrassed she was about her old t-shirt and sweats she was wearing, she vowed that she would never come to the mall in this but that she wants to spend every second she can with her son, because he lives in England. I laughed and told her she looks fine, and I understood completely as I don't live close to either of my parents.

Will, Dad, & Me

They both noticed that I was wearing a Race for the Cure t-shirt, and inquired if I was a runner? I thought about making some ridiculous comment, but instead replied "yes, I would like to think of myself as a runner." The conversation went on from there, and ended with them giving me information on a 10K run to benefit mesothelioma. As the mother went onto explain the race tears streamed down her face as she told me it was to benefit her husband who succumbed to the horrible disease recently. I couldn't help but to give her a hug as tears started to stream down my face. As the line dissipated and they got their gifts, we said our goodbyes and as they walked out the son said " by the way, I'm coming home early from my honeymoon for the race, so if you can't make it don't feel bad." I laughed and replied " I will be there."

Me, Will, & Mom

One hour and four minutes. That was my 10k time that rainy Sunday morning. As I ran Burke Lake with people I had never met, benefiting a man I never had the privilege to know I felt so blessed for everything in my life: family, friends, a great job, good health, the list is endless. I approached the mother and son after the race, I never told them my name nor did I know there's so as I reached out my hand to introduce myself I said hi, I'm Hadley the girl from Things Remembered. Olga, hugged me and again we both began to cry. That race, that day, that family are things i will always remember.

Home is where the heart is...

3817 Whitland Ave was the worst thing that could have happened to me, or so I thought when I was 12 years old. We moved from our house on sedberry road, the only place that I had ever lived. Leaving behind the bedroom that I slept with the overhead light on because I was afraid of the dark much to my friends dismay, the front yard that on any given summer day you could find the neighborhood kids playing on the slip-in-slide or with the badminton net, the kitchen floor that I would fall asleep on while waiting for my mom to cook dinner, the backyard cabin that my dad and granddad assembled for my brother and I for Christmas, and the drive way where I learned to ride a bike in { the same day as my older brother did, might I add} to a 12 year old moving, even though it was only 10 minutes away was devastating. A framed picture of my old house hung in my new bedroom for years.

Little did I know that I would fall in love with 3817 Whitland Ave and it would become the house that everyone hung out at, I think that it part was because I had cool parents, now don't misinterpret that for parents who let us drink or have boys over, because that is not Mary and Steve. But my mom always greeted us with a smile and a fresh plate of cookies, and my dad with his humor and foul language. It didn't hurt that we had a finished basement where on any given weekend you could find girls sleeping on mattresses and the futon in the basement. It felt like Elizabeth, Sarah, and I owned that street, and during the summers we did.

CC, Poppy, & Stucky { Elizabeth, Sarah, & I all grown up}

I tell this story quite frequently because i think it's so funny. Will's first day of college a girl sitting next to him in class asked him "where he summers". Being the quick witted guy he is, will swiftly responded with " the same place I winter, spring, and fall" for those who didn't know, Will went to a very prestigious, small school in Connecticut where it was common practice to "summer" somewhere else.

I never really understood the phrase home is where the heart is, until I went away to college. Surrounded by Northerners I become very proud to call myself a Southerner and to let everyone know that I was from Nashville, Music City USA. Now as my family is scattered I have several homes. Nashville, Dallas, Knoxville, etc. so if someone were to ask me where I summer, I can give them a mouth full!

"Lord I guess I went and broke their family tradition"...

Anyone who knows me well, knows that I lovee traditions old and new. I will be the first to say " we have to do it, it's tradition." Maybe it's because I'm the youngest that I am so nostalgic for traditions. And when I say youngest, I don't just mean in my immediate family I mean in the entire extended, family on both sides.

Will & me on Christmas morning

some of the Hines family at Calloway Gardens

As the years have gone on our traditions have changed. I have learned that it's not the tradition itself that was always so important to me, but the people that I shared it with and the new people who we have shared our traditions with. We adapt to include those that we love and begin to start new traditions.

There are some traditions however, that will never stop: Sticky buns for breakfast on Christmas morning, Christmas Eve at the Conrads, Calloway Garden Christmas lights, homemade gifts, Whitland 4th of July.

Birthdays, they're like your own personal holiday, or at least I like to think so. Call me on my birthday and my response will be "birthday girl speaking" I have defiantly had some memorable birthdays in my time: petting zoo and poney rides in our front yard, Vandy cheerleaders teaching us cheers, bowling birthday parties where i insisted on wearing my bright yellow "hadley" shirt even though my gut hung out making me look more like homer Simpson than a 12 year old girl.

Birthday girl turns 21

More recently my 18th birthday with Officer Buck Naked, my 21st birthday where one mud slide got me up on a chair clapping and dancing to happy birthday, while Nathan stood behind me just waiting for my silver heels to slide out form under me. As I get older it's the people I get to spend my birthday with that are the best gifts. For my 21st Tanner and my mom surprised me with a visit, last year Will, Kristin, & my dad and this past year I got my daddy again. this year my roommates, Katie & Lisa added a little bit of color to my birthday and Lis left a lasting impression, shooting me right in the middle of the forehead with her nerf gun. I guess it goes back to the whole Her Royal Highness thing, I love to be the center of attention! Equally as much as my own birthday i love celebrating friends and families birthdays!

“The secret to staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age.” Lucille Ball

Not so Domestic Goddess

cherry pies are not supposed to be white. Well, some how I managed to make mine white. Fudge pies are not meant to be liquid, well, somehow I managed to make one that would have been easier to consume through a straw than with a fork. let's just say everyone who ate that pie, lived to regret it...



Growing up we had a home cooked meal every night, and every Sunday we grilled out: typically pork chops or "Hines burgers." Typically dinner is a time for people - family, friends, loved ones- to get together to share a meal and enjoy each others company. Junior year of high school we decided to cook dinner for our boyfriends: I was in charge of the chicken... let's just say thank goodness for 10 minute rice because that's all we ate that night!

My culinary skills have improved over the years, this impart is due greatly to my patience level increasing. However, I can never cook a Crockpot meal, while I'm at home because I take the lid off every 10 minutes to check on it! One thing I learned the hard way is that the old saying "different strokes for different folks" defiantly applies to appetites. One of my favorite desserts is Chess pie { for those of you who've never had it it's basically a pecan pie without the pecans} I made it for our friend Thanksgiving dinner 2 years ago, one of my best friends, Lisa was the first to take a bite. She gasped, and spit it out. It went downhill from there. Recently I decided to give the ole Chess Pie another shot... they loved it! Maybe our tastes mature with age, or maybe my culinary skills were awful.

My favorite sandwich will always be peanut butter and cheese, and my favorite meal will always be chicken fingers and fries-- guess my tastes are yet to mature!

Nicknames

Hadley. When I tell people that’s my name, it’s usually followed by “wow, that’s very unique”, or “Hadley?” as if they are making sure that I in fact said my name was Hadley, and not Hayley or something like it. Megan, my very first roommate in college called me to discuss our living situation. “ Hi is Hadelee there?” she said, “ yes, this is Hadley” I responded in a very snarky tone. She has been one of my very best friends ever since. Growing up I was never too fond of my name, but then again most people don’t call me Hadley. For my friends it’s : Hads, Hines, HRH, Stucky, Bubba, the list goes on and on. I love my full name, Hadley Rebecca Hines, because of my initials: HRH – Her Royal Highness. Growing up my favorite t-shirt said “treat me no differently than you would the queen”, words to live by, let me tell you! For those of you who didn’t know me until later in life, I’m sure this explains a lot!

Bubba Chunk. Bubba for short. The name, Bubba Chunk started at the "kids" Thanksgiving table about 15 years ago. I was probably on my fourth helping of Thanksgiving dinner, when Will, my brother so affectionalty referred to me "Bubba Chunk" and thus it all began... I will be the first to admit it, I was fat, fat probably doesn’t do it justice I was HUGE, tipping the scales at 168 in the 3^rd grade; my mom still claims I was just right. How do you get Hadley off the diving board? You get her brother to stand at the bottom with a box of crispy creme donuts. How do you get Hadley to walk around Williamsburg without complaining? Promise her fudge. I could retell countless examples when food was the reason I got to the end result.

Stucky. I never had sisters, but Elizabeth and Sarah are about as close to it as they come. We spent almost every summer together starting in the 5^th grade when the Hines family moved onto Whitland Avenue. Sarah had a tree house in her front yard that we played in all the time. Elizabeth- who had a broken arm at the time- and I were playing in their front yard, when the neighborhood boys started attacking us with water guns. I decided to seek refuge in the tree house. As I squeezed my women’s size 18 body in between the tree and the ladder i reached the top. I got my arms through and half of my upper body, but the rest just wouldn’t fit. I was stuck. As my legs dangled below the open hole, my new nickname ‘stuck’.

1926

Work friends, at a Sunday dinner party!

My very first friends at work, still my very favorite.

One day last summer I spent six hours in a hot kitchen at the fairgrounds in Northern Virginia making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for 2,500 Girl Scouts who were camping all weekend. That’s passion.

Last January I modeled our cookie costumes so our volunteers would have an idea of what they looked like. Pictures of me wearing giant Thin Mints and Tagalongs were sent out to several Girl Scout volunteers in the Northern Virginia area. That’s passion. I work and volunteer at evening events and on the weekends.

I love what I do, Girl Scouting is my passion.

Ketchup with Hines 2036. That was my campaign slogan for my Presidential campaign. Politics was my passion for years. But as my sophomore year in college came to an end, my career path changed. Girl Scouting was a huge part of my life growing up, and I decided I wanted to make a career out of my passion. I changed my major from government to communication and I was determined to work for the Girl Scouts. I had a professor in college; I like to call him the Mr. Springman of George mason who always encouraged me to go after my passion. He made phone calls on my behalf, and mentored me throughout my collegiate career. Because of my professor, family, and friends I am able to work everyday at a job that I love and I am passionate about.

Money gets in the way of people following their passions. Working for a non-profit, at least in my case will never make me rich. I have learned to measure wealth not in monetary terms, but in smiles of my Daisy troop each meeting, in the number of girls my donations send to summer camp, in our wonderful volunteers who have full time jobs but still find the time to dedicate to Girl Scouting, and last but certainly not least in the number of Girl Scout Cookies I get to eat on any given day. The amount of joy I get out of my job, my passion, makes me wealthier than most.

I sent my resume once a week for six months until I was given an interview. I’m not sure if it was because they were sick of me, or because I offered to accept cookies as a form of payment but I finally got the job. Almost two years later I’m still here, and Girl Scouting is still my passion. My coworkers in Leesburg and in the DC office have become my Girl Scout Family.