Wednesday, July 28

Hump day report


Things are improving.


185.2


BETTER. Not great, but better.


I am back hardcore with the food aspect of dieting, and last night finally kahonaed up and did Fat Girl Yoga with Amy (our 10 year old). This morning we could both feel it in our arms and back- Amy informed me she had squeezed her kidneys too hard.
I did too, darling. My kidneys are screaming.


So this morning I am heading off to Old Lady Water Aerobics. I fully intend to have my butt kicked by the blue hairs. That is what happens when you go in with youth and pride. You get your rear served to you by someone 50 years your senior. But at this point, with my knees and back messed up and a tad bit achy, water aerobics is my best option.


AND- I have a new swim suit. I FINALLY found one built for a girl with a long saggy boobylicious build. It has a mesh lining that covers me to my neck. Nothing will be floating to the surface in this baby. I'll post pictures later. Maybe. If I find the courage to show you how untoned I have become.
Seriously, go a few months without exercising and your nice firm muscles turn into moosh. It's pathetic. That's ok, though. I'm working on it. I don't mind being mooshey if I'm in transition. And I can feel it this time. I'm gonna lick this thing.


Food went well yesterday. I found a new application for my Iphone that allows me to see exactly what I am eating. And the calorie intake. And the fat intake. Scary. The cool thing is I can upload it so you all can see my food log at the end of the week. (Just in case you are nosey like me. I like to see what other people eat.) I'm planning to upload it all on Saturday night.


So today, the short list is water aerobics, a quick trip to walgreens to get more gummy vitamins, and clean in my room a bit more. Cause I love my husband. He's awesome. And he would like a bedroom where you don't have to scavenger hunt for t-shirts and socks. I think he should have it.


So- how are things on your hump day?

Tuesday, July 27

Phasing the Truth


(Photo by my 16 year old nephew Tyler. I love this picture. Feels like where I have been for a year!)



Phase one: Get really motivated, start a weight loss blog, and lose a crap ton of weight.

Phase two: Get unmotivated, bounce back up to 186.8 and hang out within a 15 pound spread for a year. A FLIPPING YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Phase three: Look at a really crappy picture of yourself, realize how bloated you feel, recognize that your knees hurt again, and get your fat butt back on the dieting wagon.
Guess which phase I’m in?


If you guessed three, you’d be right. The truth is I’m tired of thinking about, writing about, and dealing with the diet. I’m so sick of it, I just want to finish this. Get it over with. Make myself get down and dirty with the diet and just do it.

So what does that mean?

That means OBSESSION with all things diet. Making up with Jillian. Eating Smart Ones. Drinking Crystal Lite Pure Fitness. Indulging on Quaker Pure Delights Raspberry Mocha Café Bars instead of Butterfingers. (Holy cow, have you tried those yet? 2 weight watcher points per bar, and they are delectable!) Eating FACON (pronounced Fake-un) sandwiches.

Yeah, I said Facon.

Cause in order for me to maintain any semblance of control over my diet, I need to skip the bacon. I KNOW what eat this, not that says. But I know my body. It craves more than just one strip of bacon. So I tried these last night for the first time.



The review is mixed.

They do NOT replace bacon in my book. However, once I am in a state of utter desperation for something “bad” in my diet (and we all know it happens) these are not the worst case scenario. I read an online review about the facon, and it made me laugh pretty hard. Cause it’s all true. Yet these strips of smokey chemical madness only have 1 weight watcher point per serving. So they stay on the short list. Plus, Facon is very fun to say. Facon facon facon.

Last night, while talking with my BFF Julia, she encouraged me to start writing everything I eat. My friend Tanya did too. Julia even challenged me to put it all here on the blog. (She understands that I behave when publicly open to humiliation) And although I am all about full disclosure here on the blog, there is no way I can commit to writing down on OSCBB things as I eat them. I’m not nearly that disciplined.

What I can do is find creative ways to keep you informed about my eating habits. So here’s what I will do. If I cheat- I’m putting it on the blog. If you don’t hear anything, I’m in the clear. But if I tell you I’ve eaten something rotten, or go over on my points for the day, you will hear about it. Pinkie swear.

SO that’s where I am. Starting over. From the new square one. No more painful challenges I watch sail by me. No 2 pound goals per week. I’m just sticking with the Weight Watchers program. 23 points per day, with an extra 35 a week to binge on, and finding ways to get activity points in. Tricky Nikki and Lee Ann and Theresa are going to help hold me accountable. I am not starting up the walking group again, but we are going to find times to get together and walk. My friend Kara is going to be at the YMCA more too, so I can meet her there some mornings. It’s all a good thing.

186.8 feels awful to say. It looks worse in the mirror. Especially when some of the final contestants on “Dance your a$$ off” weigh less than me now. Yikes. How the mighty have fallen.

That’s ok, though. I’m determined to stay on track till Christmas. Hardcore weight watching. It’s about time to dance to the finish line. I’ve been dragging my two left feet for far too long anyway.

Saturday, July 24

Mother Daughter Mug Shot

It started with a prophetic facebook status.

“My life is a series of misadventures.”

And this statement rang true today, loud and clear.

Sticky too.

Amy (our oldest daughter) and I made a quick run to Elder-Beerman, the local upscale department store, to get her a white cami shirt. The girl is blossoming this summer and it’s sending Matt and I into parental conniptions. But she is enjoying these leaps and bounds into adulthood, and we have no choice but to let her grow up as much as we can stand.

Amy is one of those kids who follows the rules. All the time. You tell her to do something a certain way, she goes through every step. Because of this , she is probably the most reliable kid in the world. She is working this summer on losing her baby fat, and when I suggest that she needs to give up the chips and have a salad, she does it every time. How I raised a child with that much willpower, I will never know.

So we were in the van, discussing where to get the cami, and we saw that Elder-Beerman was having a yellow dot sale. Everything is marked on sale, and you get an additional 60% off the sale price. We thought that would be a great place to start.

Within 3 minutes she found what she needed, but it was Mama who lingered, enjoying alone time with my budding daughter. It reminded me of all the trips Margaret the Saint and I made to the exact same store years ago. Although Amy is nothing like me, so there wasn’t any fighting or tears or begging with this Mother and Daughter Duo.

I found a clearance shirt too, and happily we headed up to the counter to bring our shopping journey to an end. However there was no tag on my shirt, so one of the associates headed off to find another one like it. Setting my coffee mug on the counter (I don’t go anywhere without my coffee before 3pm) I started telling her I had looked for another one like it, and couldn’t find one, so I didn’t know the price.

She asked what area of the store we found the shirt, and I circled around to point to a corner.
As I was circling around, with my hand gracefully extended to act the part of a hoyty-toyty shopper in a department store, that was when Amy and I got the most interesting science lesson.

When a coffee mug is precariously placed on a 4 foot high counter, and it gets knocked over, the 32 ounce travel mug does not simply fall to the floor. In fact, it bounces on the floor, the lid pops off, and 32 ounces of coffee immediately explodes onto the floor.

Thankfully, we were not near clothes. It hit tile floor.

Unfortunately, it does splash on your blossoming and highly emberassable 10 year old daughter, and she stands there looking like her mother has just committed a hainus crime of prision sentence proportions.

So there we are, standing in the middle of a seemingly posh department store, in a puddle of French vanilla humiliation. We couldn’t run. You can’t run on wet tile. Plus we still wanted our shirts. As associate number 1 scurried off to look for a twin for my unmarked shirt, associate number 2 had to stand there with us and try to make conversation for the next 5 minutes.

Customer number 1 (obviously not my daughter and I) was giving me the stink eye. You could tell she was glad it wasn’t her, and moved seamlessly from utter sympathy – “were you drinking hot chocolate, dear?” “No, it was French vanilla coffee. I don’t go anywhere without it.” “Perhaps there are some places you should consider leaving it at home.”- to full on condemnation.

I was left wondering how much longer the janitorial staff was going to take to the scene of our crime, and Amy was still standing there with her jaw hanging on the floor.

And I started to laugh. And the associate number 2 began to giggle. Customer one did not see the humor in our predicament.

Meanwhile, customers 2 through 7 lined up behind us. (of course. My shame is never private.) And none of them seemed to get the joke either. I could feel their eyes drilling holes in the back of my head as they stood in line for the worst checkout in the county.

Amy finally began to laugh herself, making comments about how she can’t take her mom anywhere (she’s right) and telling herself that at least she was getting a shirt out of the deal.

Associate number 1 finally returned, announcing that she couldn’t find another shirt like the one I had, and rang up another shirt in its place. We stood around for a minute after we checked out, waiting for the clean up crew. I have no idea why we did that, it just seemed like the right thing to do. I was hoping my daughter would get some sort of morality lesson out of this. Maybe “we clean up our own messes” or “you stay till the job is finished.” However, with no mop or paper towels to help us, all we could do was LOOK at our mess. MY MESS.

Amy grinned and said “I told you to leave it in the van.”

I could hear customers 2 through 7 snicker that I had been schooled by my 10 year old daughter, and I decided that the moral lesson was over.

Walking out, Amy giggled and said, “You better buy what you want now, Mom. I don’t think we will be allowed back in here ever again.”

I looked at my daughter and said, “We will just add this store to the list, honey.”

(Big Lots, Big R, Elder-Beerman)

Sunday, July 18

Things are just BULLY


Nobody likes a bully. It amazes me how as adults we still deal with bullies. Maybe you have someone in your office, a sibling or relation. Maybe you are married to a bully. Or maybe you divorced one. No matter who they are, bullies can rattle you to your core.

If you haven’t guessed yet, I happen to be dealing with a bully right now. Don’t worry. Matt and I aren’t having issues with each other. It’s a much bigger bully lurking in our life.

Bullies are people who can’t take no for an answer. They can’t allow you to make your own decisions, to stand up for yourself, or to question their judgement. Bullies like a good fight, and to come out with the other guy crying “UNCLE!”

The major issue with a bully is control. They like to know that if they say jump, we say, “How high?” They want to know that if they ask for your milk money today and you give it up, they can get it tomorrow too. Sometimes there is just no reasoning with a bully.

And in dealing with my bully over the weekend, it got me to thinking.

Am I a diet bully to myself?

I know, this sounds like a weird question. But as I mulled it over, I realized that sometimes I put ridiculous stipulations on myself. “You shall forever abandon cake. Domino’s bread bowl pastas will make you fail and if you eat them, you are a gonner. Once you hit a certain weight, you will find it impossible to get under that.” That’s the self talk I seem to discuss a lot in my head.

Sometimes, I bully myself into thinking that there are some choices you can never recover from. It’s a psychological predicament, bullying one’s self. But as dieters, we do it a lot.

How many times have you tried to start fresh with a diet on Monday, blown it by Tuesday, then gone back to your old ways by Wednesday? How many times have we stepped on the scale and beaten ourselves up? I’ve done it all time and time again.


In my personal life, as a proud survivor of domestic violence, I have learned that if you let someone bully you, they will keep doing it. You have to draw the line in the sand (and sometimes, that line has got to be embedded in concrete) and stop rolling over. It takes courage to get out from under a bully. It’s scary. You often don’t know how to tell a bully to “KNOCK IT OFF.”
For me, it was realizing at the local women’s shelter that no matter what, I was going to protect the ones I love- my kids. It took the realization that they weren’t ever going to be safe until I stopped the bully to change my reactions. The second chances stopped. The emotional and physical abuse ended. When I pulled myself up out of that situation, and saw what kind of a life was really out there waiting for me, I realized that I could do anything if I put my mind to it. I could stop a bully. I could be strong and unyielding, and do anything I needed to in order to keep my children safe.

So in your dieting life, who is really in control? Are you being bullied?

Unfortunately, my diet life has not been quite so easy to deal with. I bully myself about the weight. I let the temptations of food bully me. I get pushed around by my cravings and moods and emotions. (Before you even ask, I emotional ate this weekend cause of my returning bully. Plus Aunt Flow is here visiting. I wish I didn’t have to say 185, but I do. However, I get a 5 pound handicap/bonus for honesty, right???)

Tonight, as I was out in my quiet spot, praying for guidance about the situation I am in, I realized that God gave me a wonderful gift when I came out of my abusive situation. He gave me SCRAP. Yep, I walked out of that terrible situation willing to go to the mats for my kids. I became scrappy. Unafraid to stand up to a bully who seems so much bigger than me. I figured out that all my Goliath needed was for me to pick up a rock and go for it.

And I think (as is my usual custom) that I can finally see the diet that way too. I don’t NEED icing or cake batter or bacon. Those things bully my resolve. What I need is to get scrappy again. I must see my weight as this big shadow looming over the life I really want. And I need to go to the mats. To fight for the things I know are right. Healthy. Will burn calories.

Fear of failure is no longer an option for me. I want to know that my body is safe, that I am fighting things like diabetes and heart failure. I have to focus on the fact that no one else is going to stand up to my bullies except for that little part of me that sees the light at the end of the fat tunnel. I’m picking up my scrap and jumping back on board.

And I think Monday is a good day to come out swinging. What do you say?

Tuesday, July 13

OSCBB NEWS

Unscripted.

Yes, we are crazy over here.

Can someone please buy me a better video camera? Mine sucks. Thanks!

video

Thursday, July 8

Confessions of a Dieter. Take 2.


I would like to preface this blog post by saying that I am PMSing out of my head today. This post shall contain whining, groaning, and frustration. If you are having a great day, DON’T READ THIS! If you are of the mindset that misery loves company (especially when that company happens to be named Ben and Jerry!) then feel free to proceed. Just know that this is going to be like picking up your big sister’s diary, and being amazed at all the garbage that goes through her head too.



It is 1:27 in the morning as I am writing this. And I am eating.

What are you eating, Charlie? Carrots?

Nope.

A nice diet conscious treat? Like 94% fat free popcorn?

Pssssshaw. I had that 3 hours ago.

Then what are you eating? A cookie?

Worse.

One of those Pepperidge farm cakes you so dearly love?

Close. Think out of the box.

CAKE BATTER??????????? HOW COULD YOU????????????

It beats the living daylights out of me. But I was thinking I’m either going to go to the store and purchase something, or find something in my cabinets. I’m too lazy to drive. And I don’t mind saying the only exercise I got tonight was whisking the white cake mix for 2 minutes. Except my arm got tired after a minute, so the batter isn’t as smooth as it should be.

What the heck is wrong with me?

Most likely, it is a case of bottomless pit disease brought on by Aunt Flow impending visit. Don’t worry, my Diva Cup is on standby.

But here’s the kicker. I did really well dieting today! Until about 11pm. And then, when the house got quiet, I started the craving game.

And if you are expecting some inspirational BS here today, you aren’t going to get it. Because I am frustrated with myself, and I feel like I need a swift kick in the fanny. I am so mad I could just spit.

Because it’s no fault of anyone’s but my own. I officially suck at losing weight.

I am not going to say that it’s always been that way, cause it hasn’t. In fact, it seems like just yesterday that the weight was practically sliding off of me. No drugs, no starvation, just good old fashioned diet and exercise.

And you know what? The longer I sit here at my computer and think about things, the madder I get.

(Insert a 5 minute break with high quantities of cake batter comsumption and previous blog post reading here)

OK, I just took a break, and read the first “real” post I ever wrote. Confessions of a dieter. Back in March of LAST YEAR. Apparently I was struggling with the same crap then that I am now.

(Feel free to go back and check it out by clickity clicking here...)

I didn’t realize that until right this second.

Apparently, that first 20 pounds wasn’t any easier then than the next 20 seem to be!

(WHO AM I KIDDING WITH THAT 20 BUSINESS? GIMME A SOLID 10 AND I’D QUIT CRYING ABOUT IT!) (WHO AM I KIDDING WITH THAT “I’D QUIT CRYING ABOUT IT?” hee hee- couldn’t resist that one. We all know better than that!)

Huh. I’m a little bit at a loss for words. And I have set the bowl of cake batter aside. (no, the bowl isn’t empty…)

Why have I been thinking all this time that the first 6 months were so easy for me? That has been 99% of my frustration with myself. I kept wishing that things were like they used to be on the diet.

And apparently, wishes do come true!

OK, I just read the next “real” post I wrote after that last one.

Stuck in the Middle with YOU.

Dang it. I hate it when I read something I penned and it feels like a stranger wrote it.

Where is THAT GIRL? Where is the girl so full of belief in what a woman can accomplish? Why doesn’t she stumble out of my bed, instead of this PMS mongering mess? I especially love the bangs analogy. How true is that? Crap. I have bitten off more than I can chew with this reflection business!

For the record, I am so glad that I have blogged all this whiney-ness. I know it’s annoying to read when it comes up (everybody loves the funny stuff…) but I can’t tell you how helpful this has been to learn about myself!

Tomorrow, I am going to unearth my treadmill, and give myself a half hour goal every day. I’m also going to make my daughters do Fat Girl Yoga with me in the morning. Not because they are fat, but because mommy needs support and accountability. I am also going to re-learn the fine art of “you bite it, you write it.” Because I can’t go on feeling like this. Feeling like a dieting failure.

Failure isn’t for the brave. It’s not for the tenacious. Failure is for the ones who aren’t willing to do what it takes. (medical issues aside, of course) Mentally, I cannot fail. As long as I keep trying, it’s not failure. It’s just a setback.

I am done whining. Thank you for working through this with me. I’m going to take a midol, throw out this d@#m cake batter, and get some sleep. It’s going to take a back hoe to find the treadmill under the laundry. But I CAN do this. I just have to push myself a little more than I like.

Looks like I need to work out plan Q. Pretty sure that’s the letter I’m on.

I love you all, readers. And don’t give up on me yet. This girl’s not going down without a fight.

Monday, July 5

Behind the scenes of the Crystal Light Commercial

For those of you who are friends of mine on Facebook, you know I worked on a Crystal Light commercial. (And if you aren't friends with me on FB, WHY AREN'T YOU???? My FB badge is right there, and I am easy to find!)

I will link you to the final product (aka- my commercial) but first I have to tell you what a trip this was to film. As you well know, I love video media. I love editing and filming, and making something cool out of random shots. This one was a little different though. There is something about filming yourself doing silly things that makes you a little self consious.

So, instead of telling you all about it, I created a video about it. Cause that was more fun to me.

But first, I need to tell you a few important things about the shoot.

1. This commercial was for a commercial contest on Poptent. This is an online community of creative types. I was in a commercial this last June that won an honorable mention, and that got me excited. So I joined the Poptent community and started plotting my first commercial.

2. I "rented" a camera from Walmart. I thought that my camera quality paled in comparison with the other commercial creators. I have observed that their cameras are insanely good and professional. All I have is a Kodak camera from 2004 and the Kodak version of the Flip. Great for making vlogs, but not what I need to make commercials. So I bought a camera at Walmart to test during the commercial filming. And honestly, while the quality was better than what I had, it still is not nearly good enough to beat my competetors. (Not trying to be a negative Nancy here, just speaking the truth.) After using the camera, I decided I didn't like it at all anyway, because the compartment to get the memory card out was difficult to operate. So after the commercial was done, I took it back. (I HATE being broke and not being able to afford a sweet camera so I can create magic! But the good ones are $2000 to $4000, and that is not something we can swing right now. So the rented camera had to do.

3. Crystal Light Pure Fitness is AAAAH-MAZ-ING! If you haven't tried it, then you are missing out. It's only got 15 calories a serving, the taste is outstanding, and my family is now addicted. Yours should be too.

4. In the spirit of generating some press about my commercial, I am linking it here. Right now, my commercial is number 8 out of the 10 most watched commercials. Can we get it into the top 3? Can you watch it again and again and link about it? So I can win the $7000 prize? That would be wonderful if we could! Not that voting matters, because there is no voting. I am just hoping that pure popularity will work in my favor. And please be sure to leave me a comment here and let me know what you think of it!

So please watch the commercial,


then come back and enjoy the behind the scenes. Fingers crossed, gang! I really want to win!!!

video

 
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