WELLNESS

have always prided myself on being a strong, independent, courageous woman. It was the way I was raised. Or rather, it is the direct result of practically raising myself, with parents who were too busy “surviving,” to really pay attention. Either way, my two sisters and I only know from hard work and trudging along, and have all as a result, ended up fairly well off because of it.

We all started working at a very young age. I started at the age of 11 years old, delivering The Gazette newspaper on my street and babysitting in my neighborhood. I only stopped working for a short time in my life (4 ½ years to be exact) after I got married, when my doctor put me on bed rest for my second or third pregnancy (I lost count). Unfortunately, in the first few years of my marriage, I had several pregnancies that ended in miscarriage before I was blessed enough to go full term with my miracle son Louis, who is now 8 years old. I felt so grateful everyday to have him, that I didn’t want to go back to work until he was ready for full-time preschool at age 4.

By Guest Blogger Gloria Fallon

I really don’t.

When I’m 62 I want to be able to eat and do whatever the hell I want. And if that means I’m “pleasingly plump,” then good for me! When I’m 62, I don’t want to be doing stomach crunches, applying fake tanner and scrutinizing my ass and thighs before I go to the beach. I’m tired of doing these things now, so no way am I doing them when I’ve reached the respectable age of 60-somethings.

What is with this constant push for women to look young and thin?

I saw these on Instagram this week, and at first, they made me chuckle because they are in fact funny.

But then at second glance, they made me think of something more profound. Something deeper. Something more serious, and more real going on.

I also saw an ad that popped up for me yesterday on Facebook. An ad for a filter app called FACIE. How perfect for our narcissistic selfie obsessed society?

ne of America’s favorite pastimes is gathering for the Super Bowl, which often involves a spread of unhealthy food options. But you know what? Spending time with your friends and cheering for your favorite team should not have to add to your waistline! Eating clean can be easy, even at parties. You just need the tips and tools, and I’m excited to share them here for Women On The Fence readers! My method is simple: I trim food decisions into a simple guide to eating right. The concept: 51 Food Laws to take with you to the grocery store. Perfect for Super Bowl Weekend! Just a few of the Rules highlights:

“Christmas is over, you’ve put on weight, it’s cold out, it’s dark out, your credit card bills are in, you’re not going to get another day off until March, and you’re tired.

You might even be depressed.

If so, you are not alone, especially not today. For today, according to one measure, is Blue Monday, the most depressing day of the year.” (Montreal Gazette)

Sounds pretty gloomy. But for many, it truly is. For some, this January funk is a result of cold weather, overspending during the holidays, the economy, a relationship gone sour, or job dissatisfaction. For others, it’s something more serious.

Alright, I’ve gotta confess. Blue Monday was last Monday, and I missed it. I was Googling Blue Monday 2014 a few weeks ago, instead of 2015 and I scheduled this post incorrectly for today. All that to say, I don’t want to miss the opportunity to share some tips on this subject. Cuz it’s important.

Today, no matter where you’re at, I wanted to give you 10 power tips to beat the winter blues. Ten power tips to get you out of the January funk. Ten suggestions you can do NOW, to give yourself some relief.

When I was a kid, I couldn’t go to sleep unless I completed a very specific set of nightly routines. I was inexplicably terrified of water dripping from the bathroom tap, so I worked at tightening the faucet until I was sure I was safe. The bathroom light switch had to be flicked on and off exactly 10 times. Each item on my shelves and desk needed to be perfectly aligned and I felt compelled to yell, “Goodnight Ma!”, from my bed at least a dozen times.

I was diagnosed with a BRCA2 gene mutation (breast and ovarian cancer gene) in December 2008. My lifetime risk of developing breast cancer was 87%, my risk of ovarian cancer; 45%. Now, I ask you, if you knew your chance of winning the lotto was 87%, how often would you buy a ticket? Or if the pilot on your flight told you that you had an 87% chance of crashing, would you board?

That’s how I felt. No cancer, but stuck between a rock and a hard place. This disease had already claimed so many of my family members; I couldn’t let it get me too. Finding out I had this mutated gene gave me no choice but to take control and deal cancer a pre-emptive strike! I was going to do my best to prevent it as scary as it might be. I wanted to live a long life and be there for my children, my husband and myself.

Happy Monday, girls! We’re back in the groove today. The kids finally went back to school after last week’s Jewish holidays, and I went back to the gym (five pounds heavier due to endless chopped liver, brisket and gefilte fish).

You might recall we had one of my favorite guest bloggers on this site, Janet Tarasofsky. Her post titled 525,600 Minutes to Single Motherhood began like this:

Single mothers are created in all different ways– some through divorce, some by choice and some by pure chance. I struggle to decide exactly which category I fall into… perhaps you can help me to decide?