Slap A Bitch

During all this time that I haven't blogged because I'm lazy for personal reasons, I have learned a few things about myself that I'd like to share.

1. "If there is food, I will eat it."

I hear this in my head throughout the day, with a Field of Dreams whisper - "If you cook it, Flabby will come." Truly. So now I have this weird baseball/Kevin Costner/food connection in my mind that just won't go away. I am now associating food with dead baseball players and corn fields. Lovely.

What I've learned, though, is not to buy snacky food and keep it in the house. Not for the husband, or the kid. They can all eat healthy right along with me - because if it's in the cupboard, I will eat it. Period.


2. Being fat colors every aspect of my life.

 Usually it's the color black. Anyway, I took my son to the movies Sunday for some mommy time. (I'm awesome. I know. That and I really wanted to see Real Steel again.) The whole time we were watching the movies, these horrible, awful , rotten teenage girls kept kicking my seat. I'm pretty sure they were using it for a footrest. It was extremely annoying, but I never said anything. The only, and I mean only reason I said nothing was this: I didn't want to hear her yell "fat bitch" at me. Or say anything that included the word fat in it. That is my singular fear at the moment. Being called fat when I stick up for myself. It plays out in my mind like this:

Me: Excuse me, could you stop kicking my chair please?

Stupid Teenage Girl: Shut up you fat bitch.

Then the scenario gets ugly because I punch her in the face and break her purty teeth. That part is fun to imagine.

You know you want to...

But it's sad I won't say anything because I'm scared of being called fat in public. Like they didn't already notice, because I wore my skinny jeans that day.

Whatever. The point is, I'm tired of being scared to live because of my weight. It's getting old, and the more I sit around at home, the fatter I'm gonna get.

Lessons learned.

The World On Your Shoulders

I am so very frustrated.

I'm trying not to be. I'm trying to be positive, and upbeat.

It's not working very well.

You know that scene in a movie - where someone is standing on the edge of something very tall? Like a building, or a bridge, or a cliff. Then they close their eyes, spread their arms wide, and just sort of.....fall backward, into nothingness. All peaceful like, with a sad, strange smile on their face.

No? Well, I'm sure it's in some movie somewhere, and if it's not - it ought to be.

I feel like that person. Like I'm on the edge of nothing. I am nothing. I feel nothing. I accomplish nothing. And nothing is waiting for me at the bottom of the black hole.

I could try and list everything, but it may depress you. It involves money, lack of willpower, money, lack of motivation and...money. Yeah. I think we've all been there.

I need a plan. I'm just...lost. There's hundreds of little things swirling around in my brain but I just can't get a grip on any of them. Elusive little things - ideas. Where do I start? What do I do? Eat healthy - with a $200 a month grocery budget? Join a gym? When I can't even pay my rent? I feel weighted down with worries and cares, and I would like it to stop now.

Please, make it stop.


PS - I kid you not. As I finished typing this - my mom called. My sister is in the ER and I have to watch her 3 (small) children at 6am. And I watch my 1 year old niece today. And I have to homeschool my son, deal with my landlord, catch up on all the laundry that was in my flooded basement - and God knows what else. The hits just keep on comin'.

Maggie Goes On A Diet

I saw an article on Yahoo news last week. It's about a new children's book, called - yep, you guessed it - Maggie Goes On A Diet.

The book summary, from Amazon.com, says,

"Maggie has so much potential that has been hiding under her extra weight. This inspiring story is about a 14-year-old who goes on a diet and is transformed from being overweight and insecure to a normal sized teen who becomes the school soccer star. Through time, exercise and hard work, Maggie becomes more and more confident and develops a positive self-image."

There's enough in the description alone to bug me. Kids going on "diets"? Teenagers aspiring to be "normal sized"? Come on. Can anyone tell me what a "normal" teenager is?

You know what though - I could handle that. Not the best choice of wording, but it's tolerable. What ticks me off the most is the reason for the weight loss.

According to the book:

"Maggie was teased and made fun of just about every day at school, she was called fatty and chubby and other names that were very cruel."
"Searching the refrigerator in hopes she would feel better, eating lots of bread and cheeses including some cheddar."

So Maggie decides to eat better, exercise and lose weight. All of a sudden, now that Maggie is "normal", kids like her and she has friends.

"Maggie looked forward to her Saturday morning game, more and more people were beginning to know Maggie by name. Playing soccer gave Maggie popularity and fame."

Oh, really? Is that all it takes to make friends and.......wait a second. Are we really ready to teach kids that being "normal" and skinny is the only way to make friends? Do we want them to think that we should give in to bullying - changing so much that the bullies stop bullying? Do we want to give our children self confidence issues?

It makes me slightly sick.

What do you think?

Smoke And Mirrors

In case you haven't noticed, I hath completed my bloggy makeover. You like?

Anyhoo - I was browsing my Yahoo news stories and came across a most excellent article. It's about a lady who has sworn off mirrors for a year. Yes, you heard me right. No mirrors for one year.

Let me link her and her blog real quick like. The blog is called Mirror, Mirror....OFF The Wall, and her name is Kjerstin Gruys. Here is the Yahoo article I read.

Now before you double you tee eff me about all this, hear me out.

I love to go out with my friends. I love to go on dates with my husband. I spend lots of time getting ready - makeup, hair, the works. I have just lost about 15 pounds total now, so I have found a whole new wardrobe lurking in the recesses of my basement. I have fun going out now - it's not torture anymore. So to sum up - I have fun going out. I get ready, and I am totally in love with myself. I dance, joke, smile - I live. I live.

Then I look in a mirror. And somehow, always - always! - the image I saw in my head does not match up with what I see.

How I feel vs. what I see

And it's all because I spent too much time reading beauty magazines as a child. Well, not only because - but you get it. The world does not think I am as beautiful as I think I am.


And to that I say - screw you world. I am beautiful. I am gorgeous. My husband adores me, my family loves me - and I need to learn how to do the same. Not because I want to stay overweight and unhealthy - but because I am tired of people I don't know telling me what to think about myself. I'm over it.

airbrushed - nobody looks like that!

So, I am seriously considering not using mirrors for a while. I need to reset how my brain works about myself. I am very curious to see what it does for me.I have a feeling I will learn to love myself - like I always should have.

Longest Week

I meant to post this last Tuesday, but it's been a long, sad week.

My cousin, Nicole passed away Thursday, Feb. 24th. She was only 29 years old, and leaves behind a husband and four young children, ages 5 to 12. She had had breast cancer, and had a double masectomy to get rid of it. She was in remission for a while, but the cancer came back - agressively and eventually spread to her whole body. She fell a few weeks ago and collapsed her lung. Because the cancer had spread so far, she was unable to recover. Although her death wasn't unexpected, the whole process happened rather fast and has left me and my family rather upset. She was her mothers only child, and I can't even begin to understand what my Aunt is going through right now. It's a hard situation to deal with all around. Her funeral was Tuesday morning, hence the no posting.

On top of all that, my whole family has been sick for a week. We had strep and me and my son also got impetigo. How thrilling for us all. We spent a week in the house, doing the best we could for my cousin and her family.

So, that's what's been going on. Needless to say, I have not been paying attention to what I eat. if anything, I've been indulging in comfort food. I'll see you all again soon, hopefully in a better mood.

My Fun Summer. Kinda.

I am here. I am still breathing. And yes, I am still blogging.

I spent about 2 weeks in bed - quite literally - with bronchitis. Not fun. Vicks, vaporizers, cough drops...I think my tongue is permanently red from cough drops. If I never see another cherry anything, I will be a Happy Flabby. Ugh.

So now, although I am still coughing, it's time to get back up on the horse. 2 weeks with no gym can make you ...well - flabby. I dread the thought of getting back up on that elliptical, and the treadmill. Funnily enough though, I can feel my body slowly reverting back to what it was before I started exercising. I get more headaches, and I'm lazier and I don't sleep right. I've been going to bed at 5am and waking up at 12 or 2pm. I feel sucky. Really sucky. Plus I've been eating whatever I want, when I want. It started as - "oh, my throat hurts - ice cream it is!" and now it's like "Gimme the chocolate now, dummy!" I have woken the sleeping hunger beast. I thought I had whooped it but I guess I just lulled it to sleep for a while. In all honesty- it'll be there forever I think.

I learned something new today.

I like to sweat. If I do something, household chores, running, playing, whatever, and I sweat while doing it - I feel good! If I don't I feel like I didn't accomplish much. New gym mentality perhaps? I like it.

Life has been crazy this summer. We were a little financially strapped to begin with, and then we found out a few weeks ago that we were in the 'extended unemplyment' bracket - so our unemployment was totally cut off. The sole income on the house has been  my weekly child support payments from the Nasty Ex. A whopping $15 a week has kept us in toilet paper and shampoo. Yay. But things are looking up, we got food stamps (so we wouldn't starve) and my hubby got a job! It actually starts today! It's a temp job - but that's all we need, our income goes back up as soon as he's in college again. GI Bill and all that. I'm done being sick and I plan on enjoying a fun summer with my son.

Cuz we gots us a slip and slide.

Yes!!!!!!

No More Giant Marshmallow!

I was reading a post by Kristina at Off The Couch, and I got to thinking. I know you're thinking - uh-oh! - but it's a good think.

When I got married I was a giant white marshmallow. Really, I was. I loved my wedding with all my heart, and I absolutely adored my dress. But my only regret was that I hadn't had enough oomph to get my butt up and lose weight.

loved my dress :)

I've had a crazy.....oh, let's say a crazy last decade or so. I've been through a lot. You can read some of it on My Story page, but it's not all listed there. As Inigo Montoya says, "let me esplain - no, there is no time, let me sum up"

I was married to a bi-polar alcoholic who used to hit me some and ridicule me more. One day before our 2nd anniversary, he left me - while I was gone all day  - and I came home to an empty house and 2 months of debt without a job. I got a job, did some stupid stuff - which included a night out that ended with me getting my stomach pumped - and was well on my way to making some bad life decisions. I met my current husband on Myspace - he emailed me and was the only guy who wanted to know me, not just hop into my pants. So I answered him, met him a month later - after many emails - and I knew the day I met him that I had found the love of my life, and I would marry this man. I saw it as God giving me a choice - shape up and have a great life, or party on and end up dead. I chose the man and the marriage and no more partying. It was a wise decision.

My favorite wedding picture.

My husband is the best, most supportive, wonderful man in the entire earth. He has changed my life, my son's life, and even my family's life. I could go on for days about him - he is not just my world, he's my universe. And my best friend.

Best Friends

So, back to the wedding - I have a plan. This was a secret plan - something I didn't want to even admit to myself, because I thought it was silly and foolish. (In case you hadn't noticed - I'm not a typical kind of girl.....) But now I see that it's a great plan - and I'm going ahead with it.

I want to get to my goal weight of 150 pounds, and resize my wedding dress. I then want to renew my vows - and have the "wedding" of my dreams - the secret dreams where I'm all skinny and sexy walking down the aisle.

It's gonna take a few years, but there it is. My plan to erase the single regret I have of my wedding day - the fact that I looked like a marshmallow. A pretty marshmallow with an awesome dress - but a marshmallow nonetheless.

meh.

And I don't really like marshmallows.

I'm Tired

I'm so tired.

Tired of not eating cake.

So I ate some.

Tired of not eating chocolate.

So I ate some.

Tired of not drinking soda.

So I drank some.

Tired of getting up and going to the gym.

So I didn't go.

Tired of worrying about what I eat.

So I ate everything I could.

And now I'm sick. And tired. Now I'm tired of being lazy. And I'm tired of not focusing, and I'm tired of not having any self control. I'm tired of being a bum. And I'm tired of being fat.

My mother always told me - Change only comes when the pain of staying the same is more then the pain of change. Looks like she was right.

Yeah, I'm tired of that too.

Scales and Weigh-In's and Cake, Oh My!

It's been an interesting week. Feels longer than normal. The kind of week where you have 17 thousand things happen, and it feels like a month instead of a week.

First I had my son's B-day party, which was awesome, but we had cake. I love cake. Then on Monday, my in-laws had us over for our anniversary celebration - and we had 2 cakes, count 'em, 2. One for my son to celebrate his b-day, and a ginormous ice cream cake. I still have said ice cream cake in my freezer, calling my name daily. It's hard to ignore. But then I saw this picture of me and my huge gut - so that's some good motivation to stay away from the evil ice cream cake.

Then my bank messes up. Cost me $120. I don't have 120 to waste on overdraft fees that aren't my fault because I have plenty of money in my savings account. Which was being saved for my family reunion in SC this summer - but now belongs to my crappy, money grubbing, lying, retard bank. Time to switch banks.

So I got 2 blog awards this week. I was like - woah - 2! (2 cakes, 2 awards? Hmm....mebbe I need more cake.) In one week. Very cool. Now I feel super speshul, and like I'm awesome. Which I am. Super speshul. And awesome.

So, thanks to Sylvia at Big Steps 2 Take for this one:

 And to Blue at The Missing Piece for this one:

 I really appreciate it, you two made my day day yesterday - especially after the bank fiasco.

And last, but not least - my weigh in. Now, I had one of those weeks where you feel that there is no way the scale will budge an inch. I felt like no matter how much I exercised, and no matter how little I ate, I would still gain weight. Logic does not apply to a fat person's brain. I think we are so used to seeing that scale stuck in the high numbers, that our brains do not compute when we see those numbers go down. I feel like, somehow, my scale is playing a joke on me - and tomorrow I'll be right back where I started. I hear a lot of stories about how when people lose large amounts of weight, they don't really process that fact for a long time. I never believed them - I've always thought "pfft, when I'm thin, I'll have no trouble knowing that I'm skinny, finally". Well, now I believe those stories. I can't process the fact that I've actually lost weight. I'm in shock.

Yeah, you're seeing correctly - 311. (LOL, I just realized my post last week says 212, instead of 312 - yeah, I wish.) Anyway, 311. Me? really? I've lost 9 pounds total? Why? How is that possible?

I guess the equation of gym + eating better - fatty foods = weight loss, it's not exactly making sense to me. Then again, I never was good at math.

Well, there you have it, my week in a nutshell, my loss of 1.6 pounds, and all the cake I could (but didn't) eat.

1 Year And 5 Pounds - But Not In That Order

What a day. A good day.

Yesterday I had my son's 9th birthday party.  I love parties. I love the fun. the planning, the cake. Especially the cake. Interesting development though - I put a average size piece of cake on my plate, along with an average size scoop of ice cream. I got about halfway through and realized I couldn't finish it! Not because I had gorged myself earlier, or that I was full, I couldn't finish it because it was too sweet! All that sugar, bleh. My taste buds have been rearranged and I am so happy about that. I stuck to some diet soda and had wheat pasta with very little sauce for dinner. I was so proud of myself.

Cake is evil.

I joined the Healthy You Challenge a few days back. I think I may have mentioned it. I was browsing through their blog (site?) and was looking at the buttons. You know, the buttons that a lot of people have in their sidebars - from different challenges or organizations. The ones that say "I lost *insert number here* pounds"? I have been so jealous happy for people when I see them. Then I was looking at HYC and found this beauty:


The lovely thing is - I have the right to post that!! I have lost 8 pounds since starting this whole thing, and I am taking that button and putting it on this blog, and I am proud of that. I may have joined HYC after the fact, but only by a margin of about 2 weeks, so I'm claiming the right to post that. Hopefully in a few days that will read 10 pounds gone. I have essentially lost the poundage of a newborn baby. That's kinda cool.

Today is my first year anniversay!! I have been married for exactly one year today - and I am really excited. We're going out tonight - Friendly's (many honeymoon memories there) and then going to see Robin Hood. I am now going to go to Friendly's website and map out what I can eat. I refuse to let eating out destroy everything I have worked for.

So, there's my weekend in a nutshell. Thanks for stopping by, and I'll see you tomorrow!

Coming Out Of The Big, Fat Closet

Right about now, after reading this title, I have some friends and family members going:

Say what?

But I'm not talking about that closet. I'm talking about coming out and stating that I'm fat. Yes, you heard me, fat.

Some people don't like fat people - simply because they're fat. Others like fat people, they just don't like talking about it. And still others claim to like us, but they certainly don't want to look at us.

I've been thinking about this post for a while, ever since I started trying to lose weight. My camera wasn't working, and I really wanted to put some pictures up here for everyone to see. So, while I had my mom with me on mothers day - I asked her to take some pictures of me for my blog. She did, but the look on her face was one of pity. She looked at my big, fat stomach and looked like she wanted to cry, gave me a little frown and what I like to call the puppy dog eyes. The "Oh, I'm so sorry that you're so pathetically fat honey" look. Later on, she was trying to email them for me, and they wouldn't come through. So I told her to slap 'em up on facebook, and I'd copy them, then tell her when to take them down. She asked me "are you sure" - as in " why would you want to let people see you like that"?

(In defense of you mom, cuz I know you're gonna read this - I love you and know you just have my best interests at heart. But don't give me the look if I ask you to take pictures, ok?)

And that's when it hit me. Yes, I'm fat. I'm overweight - but why am I so ashamed of it? I mean, why am I going to hide all the pictures, why post the picture of me at the "right angle" and hide the tummy and the big ole behind? Granted I'm not going to wear a thong and show my cellulite to the world - but I'm not going to hide form the full body shot, post the face shot and sit and pretend I look that good all the way down to my toes. It's not fair to myself to pretend I'm something I'm not. I am me, and I'm not going to be ashamed of myself just because I carry some extra weight. My fat is not who I am, it's just what's on me. I was reading logs and came across Dagny's article, entitled 'Considering Oprah and "Women, Food, and God"'... and she was writing about just that sort of thing, not letting your weight define who you are. It was an awesome post - I encourage you to read it.

The bottom line is though -

Here I am, fat and all - if you don't like it, don't look. 

That's it. I'm fat, and now I'm out of the big, fat closet.

Ugly Cupcake

I'm an ugly cupcake.

Now before everyone starts going  -"oh no, you're so pretty", "think positive things!" and "hummina wha?", let me explain.

First off - you can read the ugly cupcake post over at The Fat Chick Weigh. If you don't feel like doing that, then.....oh well, I guess you're screwed. Now I'm supposed to blog about why I'm an ugly cupcake.

I ain't perfect (wow, ain't didn't show up in my spellcheck....just sayin') and I never have been. I have wiggle and jiggle and junk in the trunk. I have cellulite, and moles and skin tags (oh, my!). My flab has flab, and my stretch marks have stretch marks. To my credit, I have a pretty face. I'm one of the people that can take a great face shot - but you scroll down to the rest.....and BAM, fat girl surprise. I was always the "pretty sister" in a family of skinny people. I eat celery and gain weight, they eat chocolate and lose it. (thank you once again, universe) Now I'm at the point where, even if I lose my weight, I will still have stretchmarks and skin tags.

Yeah, that's me.

I used to cling to my beauty as hard as I could. It made me valid, made me worth something, even if my body was worth nothing. My mom once told me that you had to be thin to get a man, because men were attracted to women by how they look, not how personable they were. (I still love you, Mom.) But as I age and begin to realize I will never be that skinny girl - I can let go of holding on so hard to my face. It's not the only thing that makes me beautiful anymore. I am beautiful because I am. I am beautiful because even though I have a belly flap, I have the strength to admit that I need to change it. I'm stronger than most cupcakes, and that makes me valid and beautiful.

So I'll be an ugly cupcake, but this ugly cupcake is hawt.

The Moment Of Awareness

I woke up one warm morning in May, slowly getting out of bed, wearing the customary pajama pants and requisite grubby T-shirt. I was sore, tired, and hungry. I wanted food, but didn't want to cook anything. Heck, I was too tired to even toast an English Muffin. Wearily I glanced at my holey red underwire bra and decided I was too tired to put it on. The shoulder straps dig my shoulders and the wire digs into the fleshy part of my back. I am no glutton for punishment, so I figured that the man in the drive thru window of McDonald's didn't care much about how high my boobs were that morning. Instead I reached for my tattered purple sports bra, the bra that keeps my breasts off of my knees, but thankfully requires minimum effort to wear. Throwing my ancient navy blue hoodie on, I gathered some energy, and went to the car.

Once in the car I realized that it would have taken just as much effort to grab a pop tart. Oh well, I was already in the car - there was no going back. Besides, McDonald's was sounding better by the moment. Wrestling the seat belt around my fat rolls, I started up the car and off I went.

Yum.

Reaching McDonald's in that miraculous time between breakfast and lunch, I saw that there was no line. Glad that there was nothing keeping this fat girl from her food I ordered 2 ham, egg and cheese bagel sandwiches, 1 hash brown, and 1 large Mocha Frappe. Yum. Oh yeah, I got some sausage egg Mcmuffins for the hubby while I was at it. Too make me feel less guilty I grabbed him a Mocha Frappe too. I'm so thoughtful it's scary.

Once at home, I woke up the Man, and left him his food. I went downstairs, plopped onto my side of the couch, and ate one bagel sandwich as fast as I could. I didn't want my husband to find out exactly how much I had ordered, or how much I spent. It was good, but I barely tasted it. When he finally came downstairs I was working on my second sandwich, and he remained blissfully unaware of my expenditure. And my appetite.

It was somewhere in these morning moments that I realized something. I had not seen my bellybutton in about 19 years. If I get a mirror, and lay flat down on my bed - I just may catch a momentary glimpse. But I haven't seen it in forever, primarily because I'm just too lazy to get the mirror out and find it. I realized that I don't know what it's like to have a flat stomach, or what if feels like to shop in a regular store. I don't know what it is to sweat, much less work out. I'm 31 years old, and I'm on 4 different medications, because of weight related health problems. I can't play soccer with my 9 year old son, or walk around the mall with my friends. I realized that I'm scared, and I don't want to die of a heart attack at age 40.

So this is my wake up call, my last ditch effort to take back my life. This blog will hopefully serve at a place to vent, whine, brag and boast. I want to be the success story, the woman who loses 150 pounds (or more) through natural means. I can do this.

My plan? Exercise, I joined a gym with my best friend - who is willing to work out with me 3 times a week. Eat right, I don't know how - but that's what the Internet is for. I can research, and learn what I need to know. So, join me as I try to solve The Case Of The Missing Bellybutton - laugh, cry, snort, mock, whatever you want. Just don't offer me a cookie.