I don't want my weight to be the central story of my life anymore.
It seems as though for as long as I can remember I've worried about my weight and had others worrying about, commenting on and being concerned about my weight.
As a kid, I was bullied and tortured by other kids because I was fat. Then I shot up in height and lost a lot of weight in high school. Suddenly I was thin and had no idea how to be a thin person. Boys noticed me, but for different reasons than when I was fat. I actually had boyfriends. And then over the years as I struggled with leaving home, college, jobs, and learning to become a grown up my weight went up and down and up and down and up and down.
And then my weight went up and then up some more and then up some more after that.
Until last year when I reached the heaviest I've ever been.
And all along people have noticed and commented - when I've been thin when I've been heavy and at all stages in between.
Truth be told....I'm kind of sick of it.
Yes, I'm fat.
I know that.
Although I know you mean to be kind, you don't have to tell me that you're worried about me or that I'm doing a great job losing the weight.
I'm exercising everyday, watching what I eat and the weight is coming off. Not in a dramatic "I lost 47 pounds in 9 weeks!" kind of way (although if that was at all a healthy possibility, I might be tempted...), but in a very healthy 1-2 pounds per week kind of way. Being healthy is my focus and my goal. There is also a "goal weight" in my mind, but I'm keeping that to myself.
So, folks, if you don't mind...I just really don't want to talk about it anymore.
30 May 2010
27 May 2010
Things I don't understand...
The whole "wearing my pants down around my knees" phenomenon among young guys (and some unfortunate young women.) I saw one the other day whose pants were just below his butt cheeks. Below his BUTT CHEEKS people. And he was wearing a BELT (apparently so the pants didn't fall off altogether?) What the hell is up with that???
Facial piercings and nipple piercings. Yeah. Just don't get that. Ouch. And - as comedian Bill Engvall would say - people who "landscape the private property." DEFINITELY don't understand that at all. Eeeuuuwwww.
People who are cruel to animals.
The continuing trend in foo-foo-shi-shi restaurants to pile food in a single tall column on my plate.
Why our cat Cecil wanders around the house with her favorite toy in her mouth MOANING pitifully and then when I actually throw it for her she just stares at me with a look of blank incomprehension.
Why I can only manage to keep my house tidy for a few days before it slides back into clutterdom.
"The Bachelor," "The Bachelorette," and all other forms of reality television with a bent toward romance, sex and people supposedly falling in love. Really? Seriously? Why?
Why I am still on the non-profit, fund-raising merry-go-round.
That it's taken me so long in my life to realize what's truly important.
Facial piercings and nipple piercings. Yeah. Just don't get that. Ouch. And - as comedian Bill Engvall would say - people who "landscape the private property." DEFINITELY don't understand that at all. Eeeuuuwwww.
People who are cruel to animals.
The continuing trend in foo-foo-shi-shi restaurants to pile food in a single tall column on my plate.
Why our cat Cecil wanders around the house with her favorite toy in her mouth MOANING pitifully and then when I actually throw it for her she just stares at me with a look of blank incomprehension.
Why I can only manage to keep my house tidy for a few days before it slides back into clutterdom.
"The Bachelor," "The Bachelorette," and all other forms of reality television with a bent toward romance, sex and people supposedly falling in love. Really? Seriously? Why?
Why I am still on the non-profit, fund-raising merry-go-round.
That it's taken me so long in my life to realize what's truly important.
23 May 2010
Wishes...
I'm feeling kind of disconnected from the adoption these days with nothing adoption related to "do" except wait.
Life has just kind of been rolling forward via its natural tendency to do so.
Work, eat, watch tv, Facebook, blog, ignore the basement, sleep, repeat.
Yesterday, we spend the afternoon and evening with our little sister-in-law S while her parents attend a concert. We take her to see How to Train Your Dragon (we've all seen the movie already, but enjoy it just as much this time, especially S who sucks down a slushy and a good portion of a medium popcorn) and then out to our favorite Mexican food place (where 11 year-old S kicks my butt in our favorite card game and laughs at me when I sweat profusely through my enjoyment of a very spicy bowl of chili.)
Arriving back at her house, S and I take her little dog J out for a walk. Despite J's petite size, he pulls crazily at the leash and we hurry to keep up with him in his quest to smell all of the new and also the familiar and apparently tantalizing smells along his regular walk.
S tells me about some of the dogs that live in the neighborhood and a few of the cats. Finding the huge inflatable ball that had escaped from their yard earlier in the week, she spends the rest of the walk bouncing it off of her face soccer style and then when we're on a grassy path rolling over the top of the ball onto the ground. All of this startles J out of his mad sniffing, but he continues in the forward motion of a dog on a mission.
On our return walk home S asks me, "How old are you?"
"How old do you think I am?"
She shrugs. Face bounce.
"I am one year older than your mom."
She looks intently at me for a minute and then asks as she rolls over the top of her giant ball, "Are you ever going to have a kid?"
Hmmm.
Where'd this come from?
I could have sworn that we had talked to S about the adoption. I proceed as if we've never mentioned it.
"Well, Chris and I are actually going to be a adopting a baby soon."
"When?" she asks as she bounces the ball off of her face again.
"We're not sure about that yet. Right now we're just waiting to hear back. We've done everything that we're supposed to do and now we're just waiting. Hopefully it'll just be a few more months because we've already been waiting for a few months."
She looks thoughtful for a minute and then asks between face ball bounces, "So, it could be months?"
"Yup."
"But you don't know for sure?" Rolling over the ball on the ground again.
"Nope."
"So then maybe it could even be weeks!" she says happily with another face ball bounce.
"Well, that would surely be nice," I reply, "but-"
"Or maybe even days!!!" she says with the gleeful enthusiasm of an 11 year-old who is warming up to her subject. "It could just be days!!!"
"I don't know about that, S," I say with a smile. "That might be a miracle if it was just days."
She stops and looks at me, "But it COULD be, right?"
"Probably not, but it's nice to think that."
"Are you going to get a boy or a girl?" S asks with yet another face bounce of her ball.
"We'd like to get a girl."
"Why?" Bounce. Bounce.
"I guess I think girls are kind of easier than boys. I'm not sure I'd know what to do with a boy."
She looks at me once again, thoughtful, "Sometimes girls are easier than boys, but not always. I did a lot of bad stuff like staying out too late and I wasn't easy, but I also do all the stuff that boys do so I guess my mom and dad kind of got both."
The wisdom of an 11 year-old.
We get to the end of the grassy path and S points to a giant flat grey boulder that is bisected by an almost perfectly straight white line. "Do you see this white line?" S asks me. I nod. "This means that this is a LUCKY rock. So if you roll around on top of it and make a wish your wish will come true."
I must look a little dubious because she adds, "Well, you don't have to roll around on top of it. You can just rub it if you want to. I'm going to make a wish!"
She closes her eyes, lays down on top of the boulder and rubs it with her hands. Her eyes squinch shut tighter. Looks like she is wishing very hard. Finally after a full minute of wishing she jumps up and says, "You can make a wish if you want to."
"What'd you wish for?" I ask. She looks at me like I've lost my mind. "Or can you not tell me because then your wish won't come true."
She nods vigorously.
"Oh, of course. I should have realized that. Guess I better make a wish, too."
I opt not to lie down on the boulder, but instead rub it gently as I make my wish.
"What did you wish for?" S asks me when I open my eyes.
"I thought I wasn't supposed to tell or else my wish won't come true."
"Oh, right," she says in all seriousness.
We continue on our walk home, but before we get more than 20 paces S says, "Wait, I have to go make another wish!" and races back to the boulder where she again lays on top of it. J strains at the leash looking in the direction that S has gone. He watches her intently as she makes her wish and then visibly relaxes as she returns to us.
"All set?" I ask.
S gives me a single firm nod and we head back to the house for some bedtime stories with Chris. J is in the lead his little legs pumping hard and his nose firmly pointed downward smelling all of the smells he can get in before then end of our walk.
I don't know what S wished for on the lucky boulder.
But I know what I wished for...
Life has just kind of been rolling forward via its natural tendency to do so.
Work, eat, watch tv, Facebook, blog, ignore the basement, sleep, repeat.
Yesterday, we spend the afternoon and evening with our little sister-in-law S while her parents attend a concert. We take her to see How to Train Your Dragon (we've all seen the movie already, but enjoy it just as much this time, especially S who sucks down a slushy and a good portion of a medium popcorn) and then out to our favorite Mexican food place (where 11 year-old S kicks my butt in our favorite card game and laughs at me when I sweat profusely through my enjoyment of a very spicy bowl of chili.)
Arriving back at her house, S and I take her little dog J out for a walk. Despite J's petite size, he pulls crazily at the leash and we hurry to keep up with him in his quest to smell all of the new and also the familiar and apparently tantalizing smells along his regular walk.
S tells me about some of the dogs that live in the neighborhood and a few of the cats. Finding the huge inflatable ball that had escaped from their yard earlier in the week, she spends the rest of the walk bouncing it off of her face soccer style and then when we're on a grassy path rolling over the top of the ball onto the ground. All of this startles J out of his mad sniffing, but he continues in the forward motion of a dog on a mission.
On our return walk home S asks me, "How old are you?"
"How old do you think I am?"
She shrugs. Face bounce.
"I am one year older than your mom."
She looks intently at me for a minute and then asks as she rolls over the top of her giant ball, "Are you ever going to have a kid?"
Hmmm.
Where'd this come from?
I could have sworn that we had talked to S about the adoption. I proceed as if we've never mentioned it.
"Well, Chris and I are actually going to be a adopting a baby soon."
"When?" she asks as she bounces the ball off of her face again.
"We're not sure about that yet. Right now we're just waiting to hear back. We've done everything that we're supposed to do and now we're just waiting. Hopefully it'll just be a few more months because we've already been waiting for a few months."
She looks thoughtful for a minute and then asks between face ball bounces, "So, it could be months?"
"Yup."
"But you don't know for sure?" Rolling over the ball on the ground again.
"Nope."
"So then maybe it could even be weeks!" she says happily with another face ball bounce.
"Well, that would surely be nice," I reply, "but-"
"Or maybe even days!!!" she says with the gleeful enthusiasm of an 11 year-old who is warming up to her subject. "It could just be days!!!"
"I don't know about that, S," I say with a smile. "That might be a miracle if it was just days."
She stops and looks at me, "But it COULD be, right?"
"Probably not, but it's nice to think that."
"Are you going to get a boy or a girl?" S asks with yet another face bounce of her ball.
"We'd like to get a girl."
"Why?" Bounce. Bounce.
"I guess I think girls are kind of easier than boys. I'm not sure I'd know what to do with a boy."
She looks at me once again, thoughtful, "Sometimes girls are easier than boys, but not always. I did a lot of bad stuff like staying out too late and I wasn't easy, but I also do all the stuff that boys do so I guess my mom and dad kind of got both."
The wisdom of an 11 year-old.
We get to the end of the grassy path and S points to a giant flat grey boulder that is bisected by an almost perfectly straight white line. "Do you see this white line?" S asks me. I nod. "This means that this is a LUCKY rock. So if you roll around on top of it and make a wish your wish will come true."
I must look a little dubious because she adds, "Well, you don't have to roll around on top of it. You can just rub it if you want to. I'm going to make a wish!"
She closes her eyes, lays down on top of the boulder and rubs it with her hands. Her eyes squinch shut tighter. Looks like she is wishing very hard. Finally after a full minute of wishing she jumps up and says, "You can make a wish if you want to."
"What'd you wish for?" I ask. She looks at me like I've lost my mind. "Or can you not tell me because then your wish won't come true."
She nods vigorously.
"Oh, of course. I should have realized that. Guess I better make a wish, too."
I opt not to lie down on the boulder, but instead rub it gently as I make my wish.
"What did you wish for?" S asks me when I open my eyes.
"I thought I wasn't supposed to tell or else my wish won't come true."
"Oh, right," she says in all seriousness.
We continue on our walk home, but before we get more than 20 paces S says, "Wait, I have to go make another wish!" and races back to the boulder where she again lays on top of it. J strains at the leash looking in the direction that S has gone. He watches her intently as she makes her wish and then visibly relaxes as she returns to us.
"All set?" I ask.
S gives me a single firm nod and we head back to the house for some bedtime stories with Chris. J is in the lead his little legs pumping hard and his nose firmly pointed downward smelling all of the smells he can get in before then end of our walk.
I don't know what S wished for on the lucky boulder.
But I know what I wished for...
22 May 2010
Procrastination...
This is me.
This is me sitting on the couch.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes and going to the gym.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes and going to the gym where I should be doing thirty minutes of upper body weightlifting.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes and going to the gym where I should be doing thirty minutes of upper body weightlifting followed by thirty minutes of cardio on the bike.
This is me procrastinating.
OK.
This is me.
This is me ending this blog post.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes and then heading to the gym.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes and then heading to the gym where I will be doing thirty minutes of upper body weight lifting.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes and then heading to the gym where I will be doing thirty minutes of upper body weight lifting followed by thirty minutes of cardio on the bike.
This is me trying to live my 2010 Healthy and Beyond resolution.
Wish me luck.
**Addendum**
This is me back from the gym after having lifted weights for 30 minutes and ridden the bike for another 30 minutes.
I rock!
This is me sitting on the couch.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes and going to the gym.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes and going to the gym where I should be doing thirty minutes of upper body weightlifting.
This is me sitting on the couch writing a blog post when I should be getting into my gym clothes and going to the gym where I should be doing thirty minutes of upper body weightlifting followed by thirty minutes of cardio on the bike.
This is me procrastinating.
OK.
This is me.
This is me ending this blog post.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes and then heading to the gym.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes and then heading to the gym where I will be doing thirty minutes of upper body weight lifting.
This is me ending this blog post and heading into the bedroom to put on my gym clothes and then heading to the gym where I will be doing thirty minutes of upper body weight lifting followed by thirty minutes of cardio on the bike.
This is me trying to live my 2010 Healthy and Beyond resolution.
Wish me luck.
**Addendum**
This is me back from the gym after having lifted weights for 30 minutes and ridden the bike for another 30 minutes.
I rock!
21 May 2010
Food for thought...
So the first e-mail I open this morning is from my sister. There is no text, just a link to a story from TODAY MOMS entitled Our Adoption Story Was a Facebook Fairytale.
In the story, the author, Seth, describes the tragic loss of his and his wife's twins when she went into labor at twenty weeks, their subsequent struggle with infertility and their journey into adoption. He writes:
They were parents by January 1, 2009.
While we've told people that we are adopting, we have not shared our profiles with them. That part of the adoption we've kept more private - leaving it to the adoption facilitators to get the word out about us.
Perhaps we've been going about this all wrong.
Any thoughts on this from out in the Blogosphere?
In the story, the author, Seth, describes the tragic loss of his and his wife's twins when she went into labor at twenty weeks, their subsequent struggle with infertility and their journey into adoption. He writes:
Feeling a little frustrated and trying to think of new ways to let people know we were interested in adoption, I put our adoption flyer as a PDF posting on my Facebook site late one night in early December 2008. It was more of a whim than a well thought out plan. My friend Jon took the flyer and put it on his site. On Dec. 8, 2008, his friend Jenny, to whom he hadn’t spoken in 20 years, saw the flyer and contacted me at work.
They were parents by January 1, 2009.
While we've told people that we are adopting, we have not shared our profiles with them. That part of the adoption we've kept more private - leaving it to the adoption facilitators to get the word out about us.
Perhaps we've been going about this all wrong.
Any thoughts on this from out in the Blogosphere?
20 May 2010
Faux post...
I want to write a really engaging and interesting blog post this evening, but I don't seem to have the necessary energy or brain power. As soon as I started typing, my eyes started feeling kind of droopy.
*yawns*
Is it stupid to write a post about how I'm not actually going to write a post because I'm going to go to bed instead?
Yeah.
That's pretty lame.
Guess I'll try again tomorrow.
G'night, Blogosphere.
Sleep well.
*yawns*
Is it stupid to write a post about how I'm not actually going to write a post because I'm going to go to bed instead?
Yeah.
That's pretty lame.
Guess I'll try again tomorrow.
G'night, Blogosphere.
Sleep well.
19 May 2010
No, none for YOOOUUUU, Jennifer...
13 dresses.
No that's not a movie.
That's how many plus size dresses I find during visits to three different department stores this evening. That's right - THREE department stores!
Macy's = No dresses (and nothing remotely dressy - just sloppy looking casual wear)
JCPenny = No dresses (just like Macy's...sack-y, sloppy looking sportswear)
Nordstrom = 13 dresses (13 really kind of sad looking, mother-of-the-bride-y looking, old lady looking dresses. Needless to say, I am not inspired to try any of them on.)
How can two national department stores not have a single plus size dress in their entire stock??? And the one department store that does has the most pitiful little selection tucked away in a corner - UGH! Horrible!
It's like the department store folks are just saying, "Oh, we're so sorry dear Fat Person, but there are noooooo nice dresses for you. Nope. Not here. We don't serve your kind. We don't actually need your money. Just go on your little merry way and make room for the thin deserving people."
WTF?
Talk about dispiriting.
I leave the mall feeling somewhat hopeless, but decide to go for one last try at Kohls since it's on my way home.
# of plus size dresses at Kohls = 7
# that do not look like completely shapeless potato sacks = 4
# that I try on = 4
# that look hideous on me = 3
# that fit and look moderately decent = 1
So I buy it.
Here's the thing. I am attending a wedding this weekend and realized rather belatedly that I don't have anything appropriate to wear for said wedding. Hence, my very frustrating and demoralizing visit to the mall.
But now it's done and I'm all set.
At least for this wedding.
Miraculously...I even find shoes.
Go figure.
No that's not a movie.
That's how many plus size dresses I find during visits to three different department stores this evening. That's right - THREE department stores!
Macy's = No dresses (and nothing remotely dressy - just sloppy looking casual wear)
JCPenny = No dresses (just like Macy's...sack-y, sloppy looking sportswear)
Nordstrom = 13 dresses (13 really kind of sad looking, mother-of-the-bride-y looking, old lady looking dresses. Needless to say, I am not inspired to try any of them on.)
How can two national department stores not have a single plus size dress in their entire stock??? And the one department store that does has the most pitiful little selection tucked away in a corner - UGH! Horrible!
It's like the department store folks are just saying, "Oh, we're so sorry dear Fat Person, but there are noooooo nice dresses for you. Nope. Not here. We don't serve your kind. We don't actually need your money. Just go on your little merry way and make room for the thin deserving people."
WTF?
Talk about dispiriting.
I leave the mall feeling somewhat hopeless, but decide to go for one last try at Kohls since it's on my way home.
# of plus size dresses at Kohls = 7
# that do not look like completely shapeless potato sacks = 4
# that I try on = 4
# that look hideous on me = 3
# that fit and look moderately decent = 1
So I buy it.
Here's the thing. I am attending a wedding this weekend and realized rather belatedly that I don't have anything appropriate to wear for said wedding. Hence, my very frustrating and demoralizing visit to the mall.
But now it's done and I'm all set.
At least for this wedding.
Miraculously...I even find shoes.
Go figure.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)