For me....

...because i need some flowers today and these are my favorite kind.

Christmas Time....

...is right around the corner. In fact, it's closer than "right around the corner".

I go in waves of feeling "Christmas like" and waves of wanting to forget the entire thing. So much to do: shop (why we don't take that money and donate to a worthy cause is beyond me), bake, wrap, send cards, decorate. The list, sometimes, seems endless.

Thank God for a little daughter who reminds me every single day the joy in living.

I am floundering in the weight-loss arena. I take two steps forward, one step back, another forward. It's a dance that i've done for years now, it seems. I sometimes get so very tired of this dance, and instead want to scream to the world: "YES, I AM CHUBBY MOMMY and i apparently don't care enough to change." Somewhere along this path, i think that i've convinced myself that i will truly never change, that i will always be Chubby Mommy.

There are worse things, of course. But the feel of defeat that i feel tears at my heart and soul. It truly makes my heart feel worthless. Funny how "friends" of mine have no idea that i feel this way about myself. It's almost like the best kept secret ever. I hear from friends constantly things like: "You are so sweet!", "You are such a great leader!", "You care so much for the women in our group at church!", "We are so lucky to have you!", "You are so pretty today!", "You are such a great mother!" and all i can think to myself is:

"Yeah, right. And i'm fat. Have you not noticed that i almost weigh 200lbs?!?!?".

I swear i can't believe that i let my weight define me. But i do. And these are the types of things that i am scared to death about passing on to my daughter.

Just as i hear the tick of the clock telling me that Christmas is fast approaching and i'm running out of time, i always hear the tick of the clock telling me that i'm running out of time. I'm scared to death that this weight will one day kill me, whether due to a heart attack or diabeties. I don't have heart problems and i'm not a diabetic (yet) but it's always in the back of my mind. Always of the fringe of my mind that my wieght will take me away from those that i love and i am to care for.

Another year is coming up. Again, i'm sure that i will make the same resolution that i have made ever year for the past 6 years: to loose weight. Why i think that i need a New Years Resolution to loose weight is beyond me. Maybe it's the whole "New Year, New Start" idea that i seem to clinge to. Who knows. But i can invision myself, on New Years Eve, promising myself that this year, THIS YEAR I WILL DO IT.

Just as i did last year.

What will it take me to change?

What will it take?

Watching my daughter...

...i wish for the time where i was as 'free' as she is. She doesn't give a second thought to how she looks as life is so much more interesting. What can she play with, where can she run, can she take her clothes off, can she sing and dance? How amazing would it be to be like this? And why can't grownups be this way?

I'm going to lunch with my husband today. Am i excited about it? No. I'm more worried that i'm in my size 16 pants today and that my hair is doing it's own thing. My daughter, however, is thrilled that we will get to see "Dada and go weat with him at da place". She could care less that she has yogurt on her face or that her hair hasn't been brushed. She's just excited because she'll get to spend time with someone she loves.

To be more like my little daughter.

That's my goal.

Out of hiding...

...because if i would have stayed hidden any longer, i would have just not ever come out. When you get use to hiding, it's hard to come out into the open. I have to admit though, i missed this blog. I wanted to blog so many times, but none of what i had to say was any where near positive or uplifting. In fact, it was pretty much filled with self-hate kinda stuff that no one needed to hear and that i really didn't need to type.

But this blog is suppose to be my "safe" place to blog and i truly need to remember that. I'm "safe" here as it's pretty much a blog that no one knows about. Don't ask me why i feel the need to write on this blog in private...i guess i don't really want anyone to "know me".

I'm still treading water...moving slowly forward, putting a toe or two into the water. I'm thankful that i've not moved backwards...

And i'll be here more often.

In hiding...

I've been in hiding.

Or maybe just in avoidance mode.

Either way, i've not been blogging here.

Not that i haven't wanted to, but even i get tired of hearing myself with the same old thoughts and brow beatings that i give myself.

But....i do have some good news.

I have stopped eating dinner.

No, not like that. I now eat dinner at 4pm and try not to snack on anything after that. It hasn't been too difficult, surprisingly enough. And the very best part was that as of yesterday morning, i was 202.0lbs.

I know. Exciting, eh?

Actually, it is. With the husband coming home so late, we were eating dinner way too late. Sometimes as late as 8pm. I can't do that anymore. I felt horrible after eating dinner and since i waited so long to eat, well, by the time it was time to eat, i could eat five dang times so much more than i needed to.

I like this "new" way of eating. I feel better in the mornings. I feel better when i go to sleep. And, i seem to sleep better.

And so, yet another notch in my 'getting healthy' plan.

Moving forward....

...and trying to not look back doesn't seem like the smart thing to do. I don't seem to have learned much looking back, though, except for one thing:

This learning to be healthy thing is a life-long journey and not something that i'll only do till i think i'm healthy.

I'm now in my 40ish years. Not liking how i look seems to have been a constant theme through my life as well as not thinking i'm "enough". You know, the "enough" as in not pretty enough, thin enough, funny enough, or whatever-enough. How sad that i've wasted so much time in thinking that i'm not "enough"...

In my heart, i am enough. I'm enough for me. And that's what's important, isn't it?

My three year old daughter continues to be my role model in loving one's self. I wish that i could bottle up how much she takes delight in herself. In her toes. In her legs. In her hands. In her belly. In her tush. In her burps. In her farts. And in her giggles. My greatest wish is that she never looses that delight in herself...and i'm blessed that she has reminded me that in God's eyes, we are all made "perfect in His likeness".

This morning, i weighed in at 203.0 lbs. After two weeks of vacation, i'm actually pleased. I enjoyed myself this year at the beach. I wore my one piece bathing suit and swam in the water with my daughter. I wore shorts. My husband told me one evening how pretty i looked.

And you know what?

I did look pretty.

I am continuing to get healthy with a different attitude. That in getting healthy, i am loving me more. That i care enough about me to continue to get healthy. That i want to be healthy for my daughter. That i want to be healthy for my husband. That i want to be healthy for me.

A much better attitude, don't you think?

And some days....

...when i'm barely hanging on, this is what i hang on to.

Today, is one of those days.

Oddly, i know the good in my life. And i'm thankful for it. But some days, i find myself wanting not to hang on because it feels like it is too hard to hang on. I want to crawl back into bed, pull the covers over my head, and pretend that i don't exist, that i have evaporated into air. That i don't have to fight the fight to be strong, healthy or better. That i can just be in nothing-ness...

This type of thinking doesn't last long....usually because a small, cute toddler will want to see if i'm 'sweeeping' and make me smile. And i will sigh to myself, thankful for the health that i do have, thankful for this toddler who makes me view the world in a better light, and i will slowly, pull myself from under those covers and start the day with her.

I will also make myself remember that there are so many folks out in the world who would love to have my chubby legs to stand on, my eyes to see, my chubby belly that means i have enough to eat, my chubby arms that can hug my child and husband. I will make myself remember this all day long.

Because i am blessed, chubby-ness and all.

The List

Well, i've worked on this list periodically yesterday. It was sad that it was such an easy list to do; really, not much thinking at all. While i knew that my weight 'stopped' me from doing some things, well, i wasn't ready for all that it I stopped me from doing.

When i look back over photos taken years ago of me, i am surprised. I remember thinking that folks must hear moo'ing noises from me back then because i weighed so much. Please tell me how i thought this when i weighed 125lbs? What in the world is wrong with my wiring that i let myself actually think this? What is it that i see when i look in the mirror? Do i even "see" me? Why can't i just freakin' love myself, all of me, warts, bumps, rolls and all? Is loving yourself a decision that you make? Because for me, well, it doesn't come naturally.

And so....here is "the" list of things that i have not done due to how i look:

1. Running with others because of how i look
2. Dating certain men...you know the ones.
3. Wearing dresses or skirts
4. Wearing color in my clothes (other than brown, black, grey....)
5. Swimming with others
6. Going to the gym (unbelieveable, eh?)
7. Meeting new people
8. Talking in class or at meetings (after all, who wants to listen to the fat girl?)
9. Taking a yoga and pilates class
10. Not having photos taken of myself. Ever. Ever.
11. Not eating in front of others (much better to eat in secret....sigh)
12. Not going for a job interview that i was highly recommended for
13. Always wearing sleeves
14. Not going hiking, even though i have a passion for being outdoors
15. Not going to WW meetings because i didn't loose
16. Not getting family photos done because of how "i" look
17. Not taking on leadership roles
18. Not traveling unless i have to...and i love to travel
19. Not walking in my own neighborhood during the day. (I walk at 6am or after dark)
20. Not going to doctor appointments because of the scale.

What a list.

So, here is my new plan.

I am going to love myself.

All of me.

Every single bit of me.

Amazing that at the 40-ish age i am that i haven't learned how to do this yet.

I am going to be like my little three year old daughter. She loves her toes. She loves her hands. She loves her feet. She loves her legs. She loves her "cwute butt". She loves her nose. She loves her eyes and lips. She pats her belly in complete delight.

I am going to follow her lead and love me.

Stunning what you can learn from a three year old.

Of course, i'm not sure how to go about this...maybe i'll do that goofy, "I-love-me" to myself 100 times a day as a mantra.

sigh................

Another one....

...of those kinda days where it's tough to get moving. I would love, love, love to crawl back to bed, pull the covers over my head, and just stay there for a bit. But with a toddler, that's not going to happen unless i want my tot to stick her fingers in my nose to see if "Mama sweeping?!?".

It's nearly noon. Breakfast is long gone, dishes are cleaned up, beds are made, dinner is in the crock pot, laundry load has been started, another load folded, the kitchen is cleaned up, one bathroom is cleaned and my little tot is hopefully not eating entertaining herself with play-doh.

Lunch is next.

And all i can think about right this second is eating pizza. Not one slice. Maybe three slices. From my favorite pizza place. A large cheese pizza....

Forgive me....most folks have fantasies of sex. I have fantasies of food. The Food Network is my porn site, sigh...

I won't have the pizza. I'll have what i have planned. And i'll continue to crave the pizza, but i'll eat what i have planned.

Sometimes, during moments HOURS of this kind of cravings, the only thing i can do, is pray. I know it might sound odd...but that's what i do. I don't understand sometimes why i WANT things like pizza. Or chocolate cake. I'm not hungry. I know i'm not hungry. Maybe i want to eat this stuff to stop 'feeling' whatever i'm feeling.

What i do know, is that it is tiring. I think of food constantly. What i'll have for breakfast. What i'll do for a snack. What i'll have for lunch, dinner, tomorrow's dinner, next weekend's breakfast. If i spent this much brain power on other things, well, no telling how much brain i would have.

I'm tired of thinking of food. Surely normal (whatever "normal" is....) weight people don't think of food all of the time. I'd ask a normal weighed person, but really, i'm too embarrassed to even ask, and i don't know that i want to hear the answer because then i'll know for sure that i'm really as weird as i think i am.

That knowledge may be too much for today.

We are leaving for the beach next week. I would rather be beaten with 100 mosquito bites than take my body to the beach in a bathing suit...but i refuse to miss being on the beach with my daughter. This morning, i was 199 lbs...which was a pleasant surprise as i've been spending my time in the 200+ range.

And that's something i'm tired of, too.

I'm tired of my weight stopping me from things.

My gosh, when i think of the things that my weight has stopped me from doing, i get even more sick of myself.

I should make a list of those things and maybe it will be something that inspires me to keep working on being a healthier person.

Yes, i'll do that today and post it later.

What do i have to loose by not making that list?

Nothing.

Yesterday's....

....post is difficult for me to re-read. I'm still surprised that i wrote it, but blogging without an identity makes me feel safe and able to say the things that i want or need to say. I can be honest with myself and not worry about hurting or slighting some one's feelings.

Sometimes the truth, well, is hard.

And yet, another book.

Of course, another book. Because in one of these books, surely there will be my 'answer' and my 'solution'.

Like you eat when you're not hungry and you don't exercise enough....

But thus far, this book has been different.

Of course, i can't remember the title, but it's an "Oprah" book that she recommended. I think that the title is something like, "Food, Love and God" or something along those lines. The author is, well, i forgot that, too.

This book says that it's not really about the weight like i think it is. (Yes, i think that if i 'only' loose weight, i'll finally, finally be happy with me! sigh...) It's more about me eating to stop feeling. To stop feeling whatever i think that is too much to feel.

Oddly enough, i remember the first time i used food to stop 'feeling' something. In fact, i remember it so clearly, it could have happened yesterday.

I was in the third grade and my best friend and i had a horrible fight. I don't remember what it was about, just that i was horribly upset about she and i not being friends anymore. And i stayed indoors for most of that summer, eating. Which was so not like me as i would spend every single second of the day, outside, on my bike or with my best friend. I remember eating sweets. Eating, eating, and eating some more. I remember my parents trying to force me outside and me not wanting to go. In fact, i refused to leave the house. I ate and read books. And then i would eat more, and read more.

At the time, i didn't know it, but i had found my "new" best friend.

My new best friend, and who is still my best friend to this day, is food.

Food, it seems, would never let me down. It would never laugh at me, turn it's back on me, make fun of me, leave me out, hit me, yell at me, call me ugly names or leave me. It was the most dependable friend a person could want. It was always there, ready to make me feel better, comfort me, and let me pretend that things were okay. Even when they were NOT okay....food made it so.

In my senior year of high school, i became very, very sick. I had tonsillitis. I lost over 80 pounds, was hospitalized and almost didn't make it. When i went back to high school after finally getting better, i weighed about 110 lbs. I was 5'4. People who never paid any attention to me, all of a sudden, became friends. "The" popular girls became friends with me. The captain of the football team asked me on a date. People who never, ever gave me a second glance while i was fat, all of a sudden became my "friends".

I remember thinking, "As soon as they figure out that i am really that fat girl, i will be friend-less and alone again." No one ever figured it out, and i went on to college with many "friends".

I exercised during this time. A lot. I spent over 2 hours in the gym, 6 days a week and rode my bike or ran on the 7the day. Every. Single. Day. I refused to be the fat girl again. I didn't care what it took. I would not be the fat girl again. I watched every single thing i put in my mouth. I drank nothing but water, ate nothing but chicken and maybe a few spoonfuls of rice. Nothing else crossed my lips. Nothing. I was scared that my best friend would show up again, and i would fall back into that relationship of hiding and eating and being alone.

I would not be the fat girl again, i swore to myself.

It wasn't till after college, when i found a job far away and moved and then got married to my first husband, that things started to change. And they changed quickly after i got married to Jeff.

I loved him. We met at the gym that i worked at. I loved him the moment i saw him. I loved him like i had loved no other. For a while, things were so amazing, so good. He took "care" of me. He loved me. He showed me the world he lived in with drugs, alcohol. His friends adored me...and i think that this made him "love" me more.

It wasn't long before his anger showed up, and it was directed at me. He didn't mean to. It seemed he now had "different" ways of showing me his love, however, and it took it's toll on me. No more gym as i didn't want to go with bruises showing. I didn't wear anything with a short sleeve. I sometimes wore high necked things so no one could see the bruises on my neck. Makeup can only hide so much, and you can't wear sunglasses to work to hide a black eye.

I went to work, worked as much as i could, came home, tried to not make Jeff angry, sleep and then start the next day all over again. I paid for everything as he couldn't get nor keep, a job. I gave him money. I had no friends. I stayed away from my family, who i loved, because they had warned me not to marry him. I started not to go home on holidays and i called my mother less. I knew that she would be able to hear in my voice that something was terribly wrong, so i rarely called.

Alone, with no friends, i found my old best friend, food, waiting patiently for me. Maybe i thought that if i was fat, if i looked ugly, he would leave. I don't remember thinking that; but what i do know is that once again, my very best friend, was back.

I'll leave out all of the gory details, but after 12 years of marriage (yes, that was 12 YEARS of marriage), i caught him in bed with another woman. At this time, i may have weighed 180lbs. The woman that i caught him with was larger than i was. He eventually left me for her.

While now i see that as a gift from God, back then, i didn't. I continued to cuddle up with my besty, spending evenings and days eating. And i ate all of the way to 250lbs. I ate so people would stay away from me. I had no 'true' friends that i trusted or confided in.

But i did have food.

For some reason, one day, i went to a WW meeting. I wanted to prove that the program didn't work, so i did it. Imagine to my great surprise when i lost weight. In that room at the WW meeting, there were women like me. I didn't become friends with any of them, but i remember thinking, they are just like me.

I lost weight....i lost to 160lbs.

I didn't date for six years...and when i did, i invited my besty friend along.

And i ate my way back up to the 200s.

I am married now to a unbelievably good man with an amazing heart who loves me.

I have an amazing, beauty of a daughter.

I live in an amazing home; one that i use to dream of living in.

But my best friend?

Is still food.

Because in the back of my mind, i could loose all of this. I could loose my husband. My daughter will grow up and hate me. The house will go to my husband.

And i will once again, be alone.

To squash that feeling, the anxiety of being left, i eat.

Food (eating) stops that feeling and calms me.

Yes, i think that this book is on to something....

Why not to....

....make a blueberry cobbler:

~Although, yes, blueberries ARE good for you, eating a entire blueberry cobbler is not.

~You will not take a small "bite" and leave the rest alone.

~You will add more sugar for cobbler than the recipe calls for.

~You will eat bite, after bite, after bite, until the entire cobbler is gone.

~You will get sick in the middle of the night because you ate a entire blueberry cobbler.

oh, yes, i did.

I ate 97% of a blueberry cobbler last night. The only reason that i didn't eat the entire 100% is that i had to bring my husband a cup of it. Otherwise, it would have been mine.

So, then, lets add 'blueberry cobbler' to the "red list" of foods below.

sigh.

I suck.

Reading.....

...yet another book to try and understand why i am the way i am.

As if the answer can be found in a book?

At this point, i'll look anywhere...even in a book.

The book i'm reading now is called "Hungry" by Allen Zadoff. He hit 350 pounds at 28 years old and started the next many years doing the dieting dance. He's funny...and does have some insight. But, his insights are sometimes scary.

I'm on the "Red, Yellow, Green" chapter. I'm suppose to make a list of my "Red" foods, which are foods i can't handle. Basically that means that i am to list any foods that i can't stop eating once i start.

"Red Foods":
~Anything chocolate
~Cake/Cupcakes, Muffins
~Candy
~Doughnuts
~Toasted Sourdough bread with butter
~Sodas
~Oreos
~Cereal (especially sugary ones....)
~Bagels (toasted with Cream Cheese...)

Behaviors i can't handle are next. These are the behaviors that cause me to make bad choices, overeat, etc.

"Red Behaviors":
~being anxious?
~getting nervous or stressed?

"Yellow Foods":
~Ice Cream
~Sandwiches like Grilled Cheese
~Potato chips/chips in general
~Steak

"Green Foods":
~Spinach
~Veggies (all...)
~Chicken
~Fruit

Great, here's the bad part of this "Traffic Light" scenario.

"Think of this list like your own personal food traffic light. Green foods are always "go". Yellow foods mean "caution". And red foods and behaviors stop you dead in your tracks."

And it gets worse...

"Ignore the traffic signals and you risk accident and injury. You speed up when you see a yellow. If it's late at night and nobody is looking, especially a police officer, you may just run the red light or drive up on the sidewalk."

sigh...yeah, i would run a red light for a doughnut or two. And i would probably drive on the sidewalk if i was anxious enough.

If you're a 'food junkie', you must abstain from your red light foods and behaviors.

And guess what, folks?

I'm pretty dang sure that i'm a food junkie like this guy.

Doesn't it suck that my favorite foods are on the red list and my not-so-favorite foods are on the green list?

I still have some way to go on this book....but i do see it. I get anxious, i grab a red light food....and there i go, eating my weight in whatever poison i have in my grubby little hand.

So.....if i take away being anxious, being a nervous ball of fluff, take away the red light foods....

....maybe i have a chance at being normal. Whatever that is.

It is an interesting concept, though and one that i've never considered.

Off to read more...

Still struggling...

...and i am truly bothered by it. It's not like it takes a genius or a rocket scientist to know what it takes to be healthy. It's not like i don't know. And yet, i "pretend" that i'm going to do this. I "pretend" that i have what it takes to do this. I "pretend" that THIS time, i'm serious. I "pretend" that i'm ready, that i'm strong enough to do this.

I rush up to the starting line to put my toes on it...and BANG!

I go no where very fast.

Do i have to hit dirt bottom to realize that this is truly serious? Do i have to have a freakin' heart attack to get it? Do i have to have diabetes to understand just how important it is that i take care of me and loose the rest of this weight? Do i have to continue to huff and puff up my stairs to understand the seriousness of the fact that very soon, i'll be FAT MOMMY and not CHUBBY MOMMY?

Apparently so.

Because apparently, i don't get it.

It's insane odd that i don't "think" that i'm overweight, isn't it? I look at myself in the mirror, and don't see an overweight me. What in the world am i looking at?!?! I love how i'll occasionally be somewhere and see this cute, fat woman and think to myself, "Dang, she'd be really beautiful if she lost that weight!" and then realize, in horror, that it is MY reflection that i'm looking at.

I just think it's insane that i have clothes that go from size 12 to size 16 in my closet. Really, i do. At this rate, i might as well start buying clothes that are even bigger. And this is really hysterical: I refuse to buy size 18 clothes. I guess that i'll be running around naked if i hit a size 18.

I actually watch "The Biggest Looser" and eat a snack while i'm watching.

I am insane.

sigh.

What is it going to take for me to get off my butt? I know how i feel when i'm doing the things that make me healthy. I know how i feel when i'm doing the things that don't make me healthy. There is a lot of difference in those two feelings. And yet, even that's not enough for me. It's almost like i need a diet babysitter to keep me on track.

And maybe, what scares me the most, is if i do get healthy, if i do the hard work, in the end, will i fail and end up where i first began? Is that worse than never getting there? Failing? At least this way, geeze, i've already failed by not even trying.

I want to scream at myself: "Stop THINKING about doing this, and JUST DO IT!"

Because just thinking, well, does nothing.

I want to go to the Pilate's class tomorrow morning, but as usual, i'm worried that i'll be the only overweight one there. Like that should be my biggest concern, right? I should be concerned that i'll die in the middle of the class because i can't get through it.

I have an amazing treadmill here at home that is gathering dust. No one will see overweight me if i got on it.

Enough complaining.

Enough.

I'm tired of listening to me already.

Maybe i'll pick just one healthy thing to do a week. Like for the rest of the week, i'll commit to going to the classes i've picked out. Surely that i can do just ONE thing, right?

Okay, that's what i'm going to try.

Anger....

The thing about writing when no one really knows who you are is that you can be totally honest without worrying about hurting yourself. You can say what your heart feels and not worry that someone will say something along the lines of 'You don't realllly feel that way, do you?' and have to come up with an intelligent answer.

The Chubby Mommy is a good name for me. Of course, i did play with other names like "The REALLY Chubby Mommy" and "The Chubby Mommy with the Pretty Face" for my secret blog. And then, of course, there were the "The Growing Chubby Mommy Blogs" and "The Chubby Mommy Eats Again"....

Back to "Anger"....

I have anger 'issues'. And it's not pretty. I've always thought that my being angry was my best kept secret next to my being chubby but it's not really a secret. I hate my anger. It's a non-forgiving type of anger that stretches way back to my much younger years. I know the roots of where my anger started. And i know why the anger runs so hot. Instead of fading, this anger has gotten worse. This anger of mine has grown and has spilled over into other areas of my life. I'm embarrassed by it, and i'm ashamed of it.

Instead of realizing that i need to do something about this anger of mine, i keep feeding it. What started out as anger towards my father for how he treated my mother has turned into heart wrenching mess. My father has issues; he has always had issues. Hurtful, ugly issues. And his issues continue to this day.

What is interesting about my anger is that my husband tells me that the only place that my anger doesn't spill over to is with my daughter. There, he says, he sees
a gentleness and a sweetness that he wishes i would share with others.

I don't do forgiveness well. Okay, i suck at forgiveness.

How would it be if God was like that in the forgiveness area?

What if he was not forgiving?

I'm reading a book now about "Women and their Anger Issues".

I'm only as far as Chapter 2.

It's hard to read, because i see myself. And it's not in a pretty light.

And of course, it leads me back to being fat chubby....do i eat to sooth my anger? Or is food my constant source of comfort no matter what the emotion may be? Are my issues with food due to my anger?

Either way, both my anger and food issues need to be dealt with. Both have had enough time in my life, i think. Those issues have been a part of me for so long, i wonder what i would be like without them?

I suppose it's time to pull up the big-girl panties and start figuring things out...i am uncomfortable looking at me on the inside and the outside. Self love isn't one of those things that i'm blessed with. In fact, it's kinda hard to find for me.

How can i teach my daughter healthy traits if i don't learn them for myself first?

Begin Again...

Well, i've mapped out my classes for this week.

Monday: Basic Zumba 11:15am-12:00pm
Tuesday: Flow Yoga 9:30am-10:30am OR Basic Step 7:30pm-8pm
Wednesday: Zumba 9:15am-10am
Thursday: Mat Pilates 9:30am-10:30am
Friday: Beginner Running Class 8:15am- 9:15am
Saturday: Zumba 10:15am-11:15am

My size 16 shorts are VERY snug.

I'm sick. I'm sad. I'm disgusted.

But what did i expect? Really? I stopped exercising. I eat crap. I rarely drink water. I drink diet soda. I eat stuff i know to stay away from.

If i don't get off my rear, i can expect those size 16 shorts not to fit very soon.

I can't let that happen.....

Sadness

Sometimes my sadness gets the best of me. Maybe despair is a better word than sadness. It's a feeling that i will never change, that i will always be this way, that i am not worth trying to change. That i'm not the wife that i should be, that i'm not the mother that i want to be, that i'm not the woman that i want to be and never will be.

This feels like giving up. Like not bothering. Like not trying.

To feel like you are not worth bothering with is a sadness and desperation like no other.

The list of things that are "wrong" with me is endless: i'm fat, i'm ugly, i'm lazy, i can't loose weight, i'm a poor role model for my daughter, i'm not a good enough wife, i'm not a fantastic cook, i snore, i don't keep house well enough, and did i mention that i'm fat?

Yes, it's been that kind of day for me. Actually, it's been that kind of week for me. It gets harder and harder sometimes to care. I do the things that i'm suppose to do and to everyone else, i suppose i look like and feel like the happy wife and mother.

On the inside?

Not so much.

If i could hide under a rock, stay under the covers and not come out, i would. It's a fight sometimes, it truly is. It's almost as though things are too hard to deal with.

The most amazing part of this is that i have a wonderful daughter, a sweet and caring husband, a home and all of the things that one thinks they need to be happy.

So why isn't it working?

Taking Care....

....of yourself when you're a Mommy is tough work. Between cooking, errands, grocery store, laundry, well, you get so busy making sure that everyone has everything they need for lunches, school, and their day that you sometimes forget to take care of you.

Read this:

"Just as the safest car seats, air bags, and seat belts in the world won't help if i am not a cautious driver, it won't matter how care i try to take good care of my kids if i fail to take good care of myself first. Regardless of how much i have on my plate, i can always handle things with a little more strength, grace and gratitude when i feel physically fit."

~Kristin Armstrong

She's right. But sometimes it feels selfish to put yourself first. Maybe that's a mother's issue; by golly, we gotta be ready if a child needs us! Isn't that what mothers do?

Of course, this can just be used as another excuse as to why i feel like i can't get in shape. A good excuse, mind you, but an excuse nevertheless....

It's Monday...

...and i weighed in.

Let's just say i'm happy it's a loss.

This was Sunday's meal...it was awesome. I had a small bowl and one piece of bread. I ate slow. Very slowly. And i savored every single bite.

I was happy.

And so on with the week i go...i have my week planned out at the Y. I have a goal for this week which is to drink at least 6 glasses of water daily. I've even decided that my weigh in day from now on will be on Monday.

I keep thinking that if i "pretend" that i can do this long enough, well, then maybe i "will" be able to do this.

Quote...

"Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit."

– e. e. cummings

Where does help come from?

I often wonder how many "this is it" moments that one can possibly have? Two? Three? Four? Fifteen? One hundred? When doe your "this is IT" moment truly become a "THIS IS IT" moment?

I remember long ago when i weighed 120lbs. I was unhappy because i didn't weigh 110lbs, but i remember thinking, "Well, at least i don't weigh 140lbs!". At 140 lbs, i remember thinking "Well, at least i don't weigh 160 lbs!".

At 199lbs, i remember thinking "Well, at least i don't weigh 200lbs!! Because THAT will really be it!!!"

As of this morning, i am 206 lbs.

I am unhealthy.

I complain about it.

I can't keep up with my toddler.

I hate how i look.

I hate how i feel.

I'm tired of hating everything.

And yet, none of the above has set my @ss on fire. None of the above has made me get my butt out of bed early in the morning to do the things i know i need to do to become a healthy mother, woman and wife.

What will it take? A heart attack?

Why do i lack a sense of urgency about my health and my weight? Am i lazy? Or is it that i think that i will fail, so why bother trying?

Yes, i think that's it. I think that i will fail so i don't even bother anymore. I don't ask for help from those that would gladly help me. I don't bother to go to the gym because of how i look and feel. Why try when you know think that you will fail?

I get close to tears every time that i think about this. So, of course, i do my best not to think about it and sooth myself with some sugary treat.

I have a friend who is in her mid-50s who just found out recently that she has stage 3 ovarian cancer. It occurred to me this morning while thinking about her how her life will be cut short because of this cancer; that she would love to have more days, more time to be healthy and to do the things that she needs and wants to do. Yet, i am here, pretty much healthy, and yet, i don't take action to do the best i can do to feel better and keep healthy.

I take my health for granted.

This is a photo of my new necklace. I love this necklace....

"I thirst"

I thirst for hope that i will do this....

Where to begin....

I don't even know where to begin...

WW became something that i couldn't attend due to the cost. Even though there are not money issues here at the ol' casa, we've decided that we need to get on a strict budget and stick to it. Everything that isn't necessary or isn't budgeted for, well, doesn't happen. Period. We need to build up more in our savings; having only 3-6 months of savings doesn't seem enough so we decided to go for a year. It will make us both feel better...

What's that? How's the weight loss going?

I'm feelin' like i'm the lead character on the AC/DC song "Highway to Hell" with my weight loss plan. Really, i suck. I saw a photo of myself that was taken at a baby shower this past weekend. I wanted to throw up....

Need another excuse?

Over here!! Over here!! I have tons of excuses!!

I am sick of them, of course, but that doesn't mean that i won't stop using them! I should make up car stickers of all my lame excuses.

I am tired...and sleepy. Much more to say, much more to type.

But now?

To bed...

mmmm....Soup.

TACO SOUP

1 lb. lean ground turkey or beef, browned and drained

1 can black beans

1 can kidney beans

1 can pinto beans (or can use FF refried beans or any mix of beans you like)

2 cans corn, drained

1 can diced tomatoes

1 can Rotel tomatoes (or regular)

1 envelope taco seasoning

1 envelope ranch dressing mix

2 c. water

~Mix all ingredients and simmer at least 30 minutes Slow cooker: Cook on low 6-8 hours.

Okay, this isn't....

...working. Apparently, i need to be weighed in front of a person that i don't know and attend meetings weekly because doing this healthy thing on my own isn't working. At all. Zip. Nada. None. I really don't know what in the world i was thinking when i quit WW to "do this on my own". I need that support, i need that accountability, every freakin' week.

And so, back i go. There is a meeting that i can go to on Thursday mornings. Back i go, for the SIXTH seventh time. I should get an award for most times joined...but i know that it works for me. I know it does. And thankfully, i won't know a soul at this new meeting because of our recent move. How lucky is that?!? I won't have to hear "It's SO good to see you again!!" or better yet, "Welcome Back!!" that the woman at the counter says to you in that sing-sing voice that makes you want to rip the scale off the wall and throw it out the door.

sigh....time to dig out my measuring stuff and start looking for new recipes. As much as i love Taco Soup, i can't eat it every day. I'm not sure that i'm going to join the boards again as there is too much bickering sometimes. Maybe i'll just stalk the boards....

I need to find that pedometer of mine. I wonder where i tossed that thing? Oh, yes, that's right, i stomped on it till it broke one afternoon after a walk where i got rained on. Yeah, that's the kind of person i am....so i guess i need to get a new one.

I'll be sure to report on my first "official" weigh in....i promise.

One foot in front....

....of the other. It seems that i've been on this 'getting healthy' kick forever. Of course, when you start off at 249 lbs, i suppose it should feel that way. It's almost become a dance of sorts; one or three steps forward and then one or five steps back. It's hard. It's very hard. And sometimes, i really, really don't want to do this anymore. I want to be like a normal person. Someone who doesn't have to plan what they will put into their mouths on a daily basis. Someone who can just eat to live instead of planning their life around what they will eat next. The reality of it, however is this: I will always be one of "those" people who have to think about, monitor, and watch what goes into her mouth. I'll always be one of "those" people who will have to exercise and exercise hard. I'll always, always be one of "those" people.

It's not a realization that i like. But it is what it is. I wish that i had started earlier. I wish that i had never stopped taking care of me. I could blame it on a horrific first marriage that i barely came out of....i could blame it on a lot of things. But i am the one who chose to have food become my best friend and my comfort. I was the one who chose to eat food that was less than healthy. I was the one who didn't care about herself. I was the one who was on her way to eating herself to death, it seems. I was the one who made food the most important thing in my life. I was the one who didn't exercise. I was the one who sat on the couch when i should have been exercising. I was the one who did all of that stuff.

When food is your best friend, there is little room for anything else. It's a hard "person" to break up with because it (food) never goes away. It's always there, in the background, waiting to hold your hand, comfort your soul, dry your tears. It's an easy habit to go back to. It's so easy, in fact, that it scares me like nothing else. And i'm no where near winning this battle. I wish that i could figure out all of the "whys" in why i eat, and all of my triggers. I use to think that the "whys" and the "triggers" didn't matter but i am slowly (and i do mean S-L-O-W-L-Y) realizing that if i don't figure out the "whys" and the "triggers", i may never will this battle.

I put the ticker on top of my page to see daily where i am at. I know what i need to do. I even know how i'm suppose to do it. I even know why it's so important for me to do it.

I just wish sometimes that i didn't have to do it.

Precious

The most amazing article about an actress named Gabourey Sidibe, that who played Claireece Precious Jones in the movie "Precious". I am in awe of her. She was amazing in this movie. You can read the entire article HERE

I was stunned when i read this part of the article:

"She adds, "People always ask me, 'You have so much confidence. Where did that come from?' It came from me. One day I decided that I was beautiful, and so I carried out my life as if I was a beautiful girl. I wear colors that I really like, I wear makeup that makes me feel pretty, and it really helps. It doesn't have anything to do with how the world perceives you. What matters is what you see. Your body is your temple, it's your home, and," she chuckles, "you must decorate it."

I am going to decide that i am beautiful, too. I am going to carry myself that way from this moment forward. You must love yourself so that no matter what ANYONE tells you, it doesn't matter....because you love yourself and that's enough.

Friendship...

I've never had many women "friends". I've chatted with many women but not in the sense that we become close friends. My circle has always been very small of women that i talk to. I guess that 'sharing' isn't one of my strongest personality traits. That or i secretly think that no one wants to be friends with an overweight woman...sigh.

But that was until i moved here and met Melinda.

She was in my MOPS group and i knew of her, but she sat at another table and so i didn't really get to know her until this move. She's very tall, stunningly beautiful and not a skinny person. But she is truly one of the most beautiful women i have ever seen. Melinda is so, well, dang, i guess stylish is the best word to describe her. She's a size 16, and no matter what she puts on, she's beautiful.

And i think that a lot of that is how she carries herself. Very self confident, very sure of herself, very talented. Which completely confused me...if you wore a size larger than a size 2, were you 'allowed' to be that way? Lord knows that i've never acted like i loved myself like she did. I wanted to rub up against her because i was hoping that some of her would stick to me.

We've become friends. I think that some of the friendships that i've had since moving here were friendships that i felt like i was the only one investing in the friendship. Perhaps that's why it's so difficult to sustain friendships. They take work on both sides, i think, and sometimes, well, i guess life gets in the way.

Melinda also became my Zumba partner at the Y. I can't tell you the difference it made to have her there, even if she did dance so much better than i did. I dance like my legs are tied together, sigh....but it is fun. I can't believe that i enjoy Zumba the way i do.

She's had to stop going to the Y due to medical issues....i, who have no medical issues, of course, think that's my ticket to stop, too. I am hoping that i am going to realize, soon, that this is MY journey and that "I" need to take charge of it.

But, it's really nice to have a friend who i can chat with, share with, and who understands how motherhood, while lots of fun most times, can drive you batty other days. I am hoping to learn from her how to love myself. Not just pretend to love myself, but really love myself. It shouldn't be that hard, should it? Where ever i go, there i am. At the age of 40, i should have learned to become friends with myself...

...and to take care of myself like i am my best friend. Because i deserved that, don't i?

Happy New Year's Day!

This photo has always made me smile. It is beyond a cute photo of my little Cupcake that was taken almost a year and a half ago. Not a care in the world, enjoying the sun in a cute bathing suit....living life as it should be lived. How ironic it is that i want my little daughter's self confidence?

I had a dream last night that i ran a marathon. It was a huge marathon with lots of other runners. Everyone was ahead of me, running faster than i was. I was suppose to finish by noon but no one (including me!) thought that this was possible, much less me finishing at all. But i kept running, slowly, towards the finish line. Everyone kept encouraging me, yelling for me to keep going. Noon keep getting closer....and i didn't finish by noon. But i did finish the marathon by ten minutes after noon. And i was thrilled that i did it. Happy and proud that i did it and didn't give up.

See some parallels?

And so it begins again in this New Year. I may not get to where i'm going on time, but i will get there this time.

I know i will.