Nothing ever happens in real life like it happens in my mind.
I pictured this Saturday going much differently than it has, in light of the huge day of glamour and hoo-hah I was envisioning. I’ve always said it’s a good thing my mother didn’t name me Grace, because I don’t possess a single ounce of it. And that’s the gospel truth.
I’m the kind of girl that trips as she walks down (or up, for that matter) the stairs when everyone is looking. I am the girl who dribbles coffee on her shirt just moments before an important meeting. I’m the classy type who experiences wardrobe malfunctions in the middle of an important event. I’m the bride who had to have her something borrowed be a tampon an hour before her wedding.
More recently, I am the girl who gets the flu right before her big party she has been dreaming about attending since January. Yep. I have the flu.
Those of you who have been tracking me on facebook know about my dilemma. Tim, our son, started getting sick on Tuesday night. I started feeling really icky Thursday afternoon, which led to quality time between me and a bucket. Then, Friday morning, about 2am, our daughter Natalie decided to join in on bucket time, and I was too sick to care. Then about 5am, Matt started in as well, leaving Amy, our oldest and strongest, running around in our mayhem with a thermometer, being a 9 year old Florence Nightengale. She has yet to fall. But I am pretty sure she'll get it eventually.
And although I am not an advocator if eating disorders in any way shape or form, I will admit that after I tossed my cookies (ok, no cookies, just frozen fruit bars) I ran to the scale to see what would happen. I have to say that I did lose another 2 pounds over the last couple of days (bringing me to a total of 193.2) -painful and not a good way to lose weight. It was, however, my silver lining to the flu. At least it made Matt chuckle as we laid on the bed in agony.
So that brings us to today. Natalie, Matt and I have not eaten today, but we feel better- and I think I can justify going to the big party tonight. After all, the first thing I did when I started the diet was calculate if I lost x amount of pounds per week, by June 6th, I will weigh this much for the party. Yes, Ma’am, I surely did. I have also watched those plans of 3 pounds per week go by the wayside, and have had to come to grips with a painstakingly slow process that my body will adhere to.
But it’s not all bad. I am officially 45 pounds from where I started back in September, which is a little more than a pound a week. So what if it’s going to take me another 6 or 8 months to get to my goal? That means that I’m normal. Not fabulous, like I dream about being. But normal.
The crux of being somewhat unfabulous means I get to attend a party tonight feeling less than great, but better. It means I get to cake on makeup so I don’t look like death warmed over. It also means that I get to pretend like my eye doesn’t look like Matt gave me a right hook. Yep, in the throws of the flu (pun intended), I broke a blood vessel in my eye and am holding an ice pack on the peeper to get the swelling down. I seriously considered going pirate and wearing a patch, but I think it is best if I just go as a normal person, who had a rough week, and let the fabulous parts of me shine through on their own.
Which is exactly what Operation Shrink Charlie’s Big Butt is all about, isn’t it? Learning that we are all able to do something extraordinary even though it feels hum-drum and hard. It’s about learning that even one pound now and then is an achievement to be proud of. It is about being comfortable to say that this is who I am, but being brave enough to say it’s time for a change.
It’s about deciding that unfabulous is way more fun than fabulous could ever be.
I’m going to get ready now, and pictures will follow soon!
tales of the cupcake part one
2 days ago