Dating Your Weight

I have been stalling writing this blog for fear that I was being punked, but alas, I am BELOW 300 pounds! Sitting at 298 and happy as a clam.

The fact that I am so excited about being 298 really got me thinking. I came to the conclusion that my years of: yo-yo dieting, tears at the scale, starvation, all cigarette diet, binge eating, stretch marks, etc are very similar to my dating years. I mean, isn't your weight nothing more than a relationship? Think about it, you never get it right the first time, you appreciate every lost pound when you finally do it right, you do some very bad things in the beginning...Doesn't that sound about right? I mean, my all cigarette diet can be compared to the guy I dated in college who pretended I wasn't his girlfriend,
right?

I mean, let's be real, I wouldn't be excited about 298 pounds if this was my first go-round with weight loss. I remember when I lost 75 pounds in college and all I could think about was the next goal. I never appreciated where I was and how much work it took to get there. It was a disgusting, cancerous obsession that racked my mind day-in and day-out. My best friend lost 100 pounds last year eating in a way that she has since changed. However, when she was in the middle of this weight loss battle it was nearly impossible to talk to her. You could see her eyes racing like a caged beast eyeing the cupboards. She literally got up mid-conversation and ran three miles out of pure guilt and then felt guilty because she didn't run six miles. Doesn't that sound like that guy that you sat around waiting for him to call you? You missed out on endless fun nights with the girls or even just mental stability because all you could think about was if and when he would finally call.

Woof. What a realization.

Now, I can HONESTLY say I feel like a switch clicked in my head. I am not obsessed about what my next meal is going to be and when. I am not crying because I went up in weight instead of down. Yes, I am celebrating my wins but I know I'm not perfect. Just like I appreciate the amazing man I married. The same man who told me how skinny my face looked yesterday. I wouldn't have known how lucky I was to be at 298 or how lucky I am to have my husband 10 years ago. Now, I wouldn't trade him or this weight-win for the world.

Pre-Pregnancy Weight!!!

301!!! God save the Queen!!!!! I am back to where I started!!! And it only took me a month!!!

(Thank God for breastfeeding).

I teetered on 302 for a couple days waiting patiently and weighing myself every time I went to the bathroom to see if that last pound was shaken loose and I AM FREE AT LAST! For some reason, this seems wayyyy more of an accomplishment than last time. Maybe because this time I gained 5 more pounds than my last pregnancy and the weight seemed to come off more quickly. But, that's what getting old does to you!!!

I have been thinking about starting a running routine. I believe I mentioned this multiple times before to both you and anyone else who will listen and haven't so much as gone for a walk. But, it's the thought that counts, right? But, no, I am just stalling because I am still healing from my c-section and I know it's going to be horrifyingly difficult and I don't need to add my incision ripping open and my kidneys falling out in front of someone's mailbox.

I have been Pinning all sorts of running inspiration since I joined Pinterest so I should be well prepared on a routine and do's and don'ts but it's all about pulling the trigger, I suppose!

Ashley, Food and God

I just finished reading the book Women, Food and God. I say "finished" because I started reading it


Buy this immediately.

four years ago (back when I was single and living along) and had to put it away because every time I read a paragraph I ended up sobbing hysterically into a pillow. That is how many aha moments are in there. Honestly, I don't care if you weight 100 pounds; that book will change your life.

The biggest takeaway I got from the book this time is: I don't have to count calories, starve myself, only eat kale for 30 days, etc in order to "succeed" in dieting. Really, all I need to do is eat when I'm hungry and stop when I'm full. I wish I could have raked in the bucks that author Geneen Roth did by stating such an obvious feat. It's much easier said than done though.

Roth also talks about eating what your body is asking for. Yes, if your body is dying for a hot fudge sundae, eat it. But your body is not dying for 12 sundaes 30 days in a row. It's funny, I have been going by this mentality for the past few days and the amount of food I eat is probably cut in half and the quality is probably doubled. I had eggs and oatmeal for dinner last night. No cheese on my eggs either. I have never eaten eggs without cheese. But, I asked myself, "Do you really want the cheese?" And it didn't sound all that great. The eggs however, were calling my name.

With this newfound confidence, the impending holidays don't make me want to pop a Xanax and hide in my bed. I can have Thanksgiving dinner without following it up with a suicide note. I don't have to eat until I look like a stuffed turkey and I can just eat the things I really want. Do I really want cranberry sauce? Nah. Do I really want 16 pieces of pumpkin pie? No. Do I want turkey, potatoes and stuffing? Yes, but I think I have the ability to eat less than epic proportions.

Also, I have been eating so much salad it's unreal. I have always loved salads, but always felt I was missing out on something if I ate them. How seriously messed up is my brain? I WANT a salad. I hardly ever WANT Burger King but always choose it because I think that's the exciting part about life...eating deep-fried everything. Good God, I need therapy.

Fat Girls

I have had a problem with fat girls all my life. Not that I hate them for being fat. Not at all. But, I hate

If anyone ever buys me this shirt I will commit murder.

them for always thinking because I am chubby, that makes us confidantes. I can't tell you how many times I met a fellow chunkster and within the first couple meetings she bashes some skinny girl and says something like, "Us big girls need to stick together, amirite?"

Burn?

I mean, why do we need to bring up the fact that I am fat? I don't think the fact that we are both overweight means we are buddies. Or did I miss something? All that is accomplished by saying something like that is me feeling completely unflattering and disliking you for pointing out that it is mega obvious how fat I am. I like to live in a beautiful state of denial sometimes.

In my experience, any mention or back-handed compliment referring to my weight has been stored in a mental filing cabinet to scar me for the rest of my life.

For instance: my mother is a beautiful woman. To put it in perspective, she was voted Ms. Centerfold in high school. So, that's a lot to live up to. But, I remember getting dressed for my 6th grade Christmas concert in front of her and her making mention that I get my "poochy belly" from her. Up until that point, I had not really considered my belly that "poochy." Now, 15 years later that's all I think about when I look in the mirror and the first thing I want to fix if I ever go under the knife.

People just don't understand that you should never make mention to a woman about her weight even if you are as vague as possible. Another example: my darling Grandmother. My whole life every time I see her she either mentions that I look like I have lost weight or she doesn't. The fact that she says I look good makes me feel wonderful. But, when I don't hear it, that's the equivalent of oinking at me upon entrance in my book.

So please, even if your intentions are meant to make me feel like you and I have something in common, please do not. I don't need the constant reminder that I am overweight. I am very much aware.

Post Baby Body

I have been de-babied.

I gave birth to a beautiful little girl. Looks like her dad. Such a magical moment. But, this is a weight-loss blog, not a here's-how-much-I-love-my-kids blog. So, I will cut to the chase...

The whole four days I was in the hospital I could not wait to get home to my scale. I couldn't wait to see the numbers soar downward after 7 lbs 4 oz of baby meat and 9 months worth of baby juices left my body. I know this doesn't count as "real" weight loss, but the fact that I was all the way up to my heaviest at 322 pounds, I was praying for a miracle.

So, before I even got Little Girl out of her carseat, I was on the scale. And, wouldn't I be the only person in the history of the world who has a 7 pound baby and only loses THREE POUNDS??!!!

What a sick joke.

Photo Courtesy: scarymommy.com

Of course I burst into tears immediately while looking at my bruised, stitched, sagging post-baby body. I also kept having visions of Kim Kardashians white bikini-clad post-baby body about a minute after giving birth and felt even more like a sack of human Silly Putty.

I have never felt more homicidal in my life.

But, to my absolute shock, the pounds have been dropping at an amazing pace. I am two weeks post-partum and down to 305. I never thought I would be so happy with such a disgusting number, but it is much prettier than 322. I know breast-feeding is a mega calorie burner, so I might just keep pumping until menopause to keep myself in check...

The Return of Chubbylicious

Well, no, I did not die after trying on bridesmaid dresses. However, about five seconds after writing
the previous blog in February, I found out I was pregnant. SO, not only did I get to be the token fat bridesmaid, I got to wear TWO hats and double as the pregnant bridesmaid as well. Honestly though, it's not that depressing being pregnant and fat. You can just blame your vericose veins, bevvy of stretchmarks, disgusting desire to eat every five minutes and guarding your dinner plate like a convict on that precious little baby.

But, why did I disappear? Well, after getting over the fact that I have to gain weight to support this little fetus and laughing at God maniacally for a week and a half, I decided I didn't want to blast how much I hated gaining weight all over the internets and give my daughter (yes, a GIRL) a jumpstart on impending weight issues. Lord knows, with my genes, she is going to come out embarassed of her size newborn diapers.

Needless to say, the past nine months have been a orgy of preservatives, carbohydrates, artificial sweeteners, high fructose corn syrup and a lot of other three dollar words for being an utter sow.

I have less than a month to go in this pregnancy and just wanted to let everyone know, as soon as my nether regions are stitched back together and I stop sobbing while looking at my wrinkly, deflated, rippled, sack of flesh I call my stomach, I am back in action. No holds barred.

Stay tuned.

Here Comes the Fattie

*Rocking out at right around 301 pounds still. I can seriously taste 299. If I cut off a foot, would that still count as weight loss?*

Anyway, my best friend is getting married. I am the maid of honor. The wedding is in October. Thus, dress shopping starts in two weeks. I really highly doubt I can lose 100 pounds in two weeks. Therefore, I have to go through the excruciating task of trying on dresses.

Oh, the horror...

At least I can thank my lucky stars that this isn't the '80s. I would look like a side of beef in these dresses.

Not only is every dressing room experience a fat girl's arch nemesis, but most bridal shops only carry bridesmaid dresses in size six and twelve. I wasn't even a size twelve in the seventh grade. So, I get to go through that awkward moment of standing around a gaggle of skinny ladies prancing around in adorableness and will all know, without saying, that I am too fat to try any on.

Is morning drinking OK during these events?

However, I will be thrilled to see my beautiful friend trying on dresses. She, unlike me, is a tall, thing dark-haired beauty who will be like my own life-sized Barbie doll. Just to be there for that experience will hopefully numb the pain of being the token fat girl who needs her dress made at the hot air balloon factory.