I would like to submit this for your consideration...

Well, I have to tell you- Wednesday didn't go so well, Couch to 5K speaking.

In fact, it didn't go at all. But the Chinese takeout I ordered in its stead was fabulous!

Actually, Wednesday overall was one of those days where you just want to crawl back into bed and start again. But I couldn't, so it had to be dealt with. And I did. With food.

I suppose remembering it today, as I cautiously avoided the scale, the truth is I always turn to food when I am stressed. Instead of thinking about the things that are going on, especially if they are stressful things, I plan what I will eat. I imagine each possibility melting in my mouth until I establish the winner winner chicken dinner. I am pretty sure it is a horrific form of denial. But in moments of stress, turmoil, or horrormoan induced antics, I deem it worth the cost and bury my frustrations with food. And usually a side of gravy.

But there are other things I am able to NOT do, because the cost is so great.

Like if you get caught in a lie. It is so humiliating when someone discovers the truth. It feels like they never look at you the same way again. So I do my absolute best never to lie. And when I do, I approach the person with remorse and ask forgiveness.

Or steal. I don't shoplift, because the fines and fees, not to mention jail time, would really cramp my style and budget. So I dismiss the idea and do without. Or pay for it. Ahem, Matt pays for it.

AND YET---
What about the cost of overeating? Do I truly consider what it actually does?

It causes me humiliation, just like lying. There have been several times I have seen myself in the mirror and felt that old familiar humiliation rise up. Usually it's a 3 way mirror that does it, but still...do I consider that when I am shoveling Lo Mein in my mouth?

It cramps my style. As you all have read, I am a rock and roll and tattoo kind of girl. But I won't get a tattoo on my arm. Not because I think it's wrong or would be trashy. Nope, it's cause my arms are still fat, and I want the tattoo to look good. Plus all the wonderful vintage dresses from the 40's and 50's are not Plus Friendly at all. Give me a full skirt, and I don't look cool. I just look full. So I make myself full to match the inside with the outside.

What about my budget? What is the real cost of overeating and being a bonafide fat chick? Well, we have to shop at overpriced stores where the markup for a few extra yards of fabric is worse than the profit made on name brand purses and shoes. And they don't go with the style of a rock-n-roller like me either. Caftans are not my thing. Not to mention all the extra health care expenses like diabetic testing supplies and surgery for knees that give out under the weight of my indulgence. Or bariatric surgery, should I ever deem that diet and exercise just don't cut it. So I cut a big hunk of pie and let the flakey crust wash away my own feelings of flakeyness at messing up the diet once again.

Well, what isn't cutting it is my resolve. I am not acting like I am a winner winner baked skinless chicken dinner. I am acting like KFC extra crispy with a side of potato salad. And somehow, I have got to rip off the yummy skin and get to the meat of this issue.

I wish I had an answer to share with you about how to not stress eat, but I don't. I can control it sometimes, but on days like yesterday, there's no stopping the reality that food feels good.

Instead of trying to pretend like I have it all together and make the problem worse, I'm not going to offer a solution. Maybe this is one of life's great mysteries that will never be solved. But what I will tell you is that tonight, after the kids are done with chores and are freshly bathed, I am going to get back on that treadmill and run like I was supposed to last night. I'm going to count yesterday as a lost battle, but today I'm going to fight like I didn't lose yesterday. Today, I am once again a winner winner skinelss baked chicken dinner. And steamed broccoli with pretend butter. And an apple.

I guess I am going to go back to my core beliefs and work it harder today.

Considering, my options, this is the way to go.

Getting back on her horse instead of shooting it-

Charlie

A Letter to Mother Nature

Dear Mother Nature-

You and I have known each other a very long time. And I have to tell you that I am getting a little tired of our relationship. You waltz in here at least once a month and think that you are welcome to stay for 7 days at a time. You leave a huge mess while you are here, and just knowing that you are going to be crashing with me makes me crabby beyond belief. I really don't appreciate your presence in my life. I'm really irritated you though that your gift on my 32nd birthday today was appropriate, because trust me, Mama Nature, it WAS NOT.

Not to mention that you make the whole dieting thing really hard. In anticipation of you, I seem to over-eat and become a bottomless pit for 3 days about a week before you get here. Then I balloon up a pound or 2, and after you leave I have to work extra hard to drop those pounds and fight to continue to make headway. You are a fat enabler, Mama Nature, and it isn't fair.

I have been thinking of ways that we could make our relationship a little friendlier, and I want you to seriously consider these options. After 20 years of a strained and frustrating situation, I think that these requests are not so out of line.

1. Send me a note. Instead of your usual course of action, keep some post it notes and a sharpie in my uterus. When the time comes, just write "Not Pregnant Yet" and stick it in my underwear. Don't worry, I will find it. This is so much nicer than assaulting me and causing a week's worth of drama.

2. I'll give you access to my cell phone. Normally I keep it in my bra, but I can make other arrangements. You can text me, call me, or even call my husband. Just let one of us know that prenatal vitamins are not necessary for the next 3 weeks. Heck, I'll even let you call during peak hours if you want. Just think how much simpler life would be if you just called us and gave us the word.

3. You could let my husband have one once in a while. Not that he deserves it, but he's a fantastic man, loves me completely, and I bet he's willing to take one for the team. Matt is a good guy like that. When our 9 year old daughter whips him at chess, he takes it with stride. So one or two periods wouldn't break his spirit.

4. If you insist on forcing me to need enough coverage that I have to have wings, figure out how you can keep the wings IN PLACE. I cannot tell you how many times a wing has snuck back up and stuck to "areas that are not bald." It hurts like holy heck to try and peel them off. Seriously, if they didn't stick to the underside of my knickers, they shouldn't stick to- there. But they do. And I am not a Brazilian wax kind of girl. At least not when it's only on one side from the stupid wing.

5. Go ahead and let me get pregnant! I don't understand why you are being so stingy about this, because nothing would make me happier than to be knocked up again!!! Go ahead! Hit me with twins! Triplets! I can handle it! It has been almost 8 years since my last break from you, and I am ready to take another 3 year hiatus and poop out a few more short people. So can you just relax? Please? I suppose on that note, I am still kinda glad you are hanging around. I mean, Matt and I do want more kids, so I guess it's good that you still come back month after month.

But I think some of these suggestions might change the attitude of women everywhere. Can you imagine how much nicer the world would be if women just found a note in their skivvys? Or got a call? Or if men had a period or 2, they would find a way to make you disappear and still continue the human race. They figured out Viagra, I'm pretty sure they can handle this too! Sleep on it, Mother Nature.

Now I have to go to walmart and get some pads with wings. And a razor.

What a stupid birthday present.

Your acquaintance-

Charlie

I have Confidence?

In keeping with the preparations for my big conference in 11 days, I want to continue on a similar vein of thought as the last blog: personal introspection. You see, as I have been blogging and writing and exercising and dieting, this whole time something big has been changing in me. I am still figuring this one out, but I am learning something I never realized before. It is time for me to stop buying in to the “fat chick syndrome,” and I think this in an important step that we all need to do. Perhaps I should explain…


Fat Chick Syndrome: (Noun) (Entirely made up by me, of course) The chronic idea that we are less capable than other women, even though technically we are more. (Sometimes according to the scale- substantially more!) This plagues women of any shape, and is dependent upon who they are standing next to at any particular moment. It dwarfs any compelling attributes a girl might possess (brains, talent, skill, etc.) and zones in on the size of her thighs, buttocks, and post pregnancy belly that never bounced back, leading to instant meltdown of mental capacities and often crying while running to the bathroom to compose one’s self. This syndrome is highly volatile, and when mixed with PMS can be deadly to anyone standing close or within cellular signal range. FCS can lead to loss of dreams and/or hope, and lack of self-esteem. Side effects may include ravenous cravings for chocolate, Twinkies, and ice cream directly from the carton, and could lead to weight gain, which does nothing but only frustrate the problem further.


Now, this is the dilemma. I am supposed to walk into a conference with 575 other women, be myself, and be confident. Mathematically this is utterly impossible. Standing next to a size 4 (who probably ate a pound of bacon for breakfast) immediately causes me to feel that I am less of a woman. So am I less capable because of what I look like?


The idea of body image has been so engrained into our psyches from an early age that it's pathetic. Let’s take a look at the toys we played with as children. Like Barbie. You may have read this before, but if Barbie was a real girl, and not a doll, she would be 5ft9, and have bust-waist-hip measurements of 36-18-33.* On a side note, she would not have enough fat in her body for periods, so there’s a bonus with no strings attached (groan), but over all, this is a ridiculous image that we give girls from the time they are 3. We all have bought into this lie, that Barbie’s are the pretty ones. They can have fat friends, but Barbie gets the dream car, the dream house, the dream guy…you get the idea.


A few years ago, the movie Hairspray came out, and just like every teen sensation movie, dolls were made for the masses. The main character is Tracey Turnblad, who is a heavy set girl like the majority of us. And her doll was manufactured accordingly. As you may expect, these Tracey dolls, plump and plastic, ended up on the clearance rack at your local Walmart. Why? Because nobody plays with the fat girl.


So this is the stereotype we are facing. Even now, 55 pounds smaller, I had a woman, bigger than me, who overheard me talking in an office one day last week. I was sharing about the blog, and made the comment that I was the pied piper of fat chicks everywhere. She immediately looked me up one side and down the other, then asked, “Yeah, but what do you consider fat? You aren’t fat at all!” And her Fat Girl Syndrome kicked in.


Immediately, I whipped out before pictures and smoothed it over, showing her I was once fat myself, and really am mentally still a fat girl, because as long as there is a place called Hollywood, I will always be bigger than someone. And chances are someone will be bigger than me. And we will always struggle with feeling inferior.


I am not going to look at the spiritual side of confidence at the moment. I may save that for another blog entirely, but Isaiah 32:17, Jeremiah 17:7, and especially 2 Corinthians 3:3–5 have wonderful truths about having confidence in the Lord. I hope that if you are curious about them, you will seek these scriptures out and discover the confidence one can have in the Lord.I know full well that I indeed have that confidence in the Lord and His plan for my life. There is no shred of doubt about that.

What I don’t have is confidence in is myself. I have this wonderful self destructive nature that thwarts any plans laid out before me. And I owe it all to Fat Girl Syndrome.


How can one overcome this awful affliction that we so quickly pick up? Inferiority is a complex beast, and we will never please everyone. It’s just not going to happen. However, with some careful observation, we will see that this syndrome gives us a distinct advantage over those we are standing next to.


I don’t know about you, but having been a lifelong fatty, I have really had to work hard on my skills, talents, etc. to overcome the competition. (Please note, the girls I am going to the conference with are not my competition. They are sweet sisters in Christ that I cannot wait to get my hands on and hug and love, just like I do all of you! This is not a game to be played, but real lives and feelings we are talking about) That being said, my confidence can be found in this way. THEY ALL FEEL THE SAME WAY. Every woman feels inferior when surrounded by other girls. It is our nature.


So, instead of shirking away from the fact that we are all scared out of our wits that someone is better than us, I say: LET’S EMBRACE IT! Let’s learn from one another. Instead of ending up in the gossip trap where we tear apart the other’s hair style, outfit choice, or various other outside characteristics, we- as a collective group of women- must commit to building one another up. Being transparent and honest. We need to be real.


Because the reality is that I will not be the most talented girl in the room. I will not be the most funny person there. I won’t be the thinnest or the prettiest. But I will be the only girl named Charlie with a blog about her huge butt and how she is shrinking it. I will be the only one there with a manuscript called “My Thinking Cap Ran out of Batteries” that discusses the implications on my faith when Tim took a carton of ice cream to pre-school in his backpack. No one else can do those things. Fat or not, I’m bringing something besides junk food to the table.


My plan of action is to find a woman who is hiding in the corner at the conference, or running to the bathroom with tears streaming down her face because of Fat Girl Syndrome, and help her feel confident again. I will talk, laugh and pray with anyone that looks like they need a friend or a kind word. I will remember it is only by the grace of God that I have been able to overcome the syndrome myself, and maybe I’ll get to tell my story to a woman who has lost her hope. Whose dreams are slipping through her fingers. Who has given up, just like me a year ago.


Confidence has nothing to do with our size. It has everything to do with our willingness to go the extra mile and show a sister a little compassion. To be a friend. Not a Polly Esther kind of friend, but a real breathing person who takes your hand and reminds you that you aren’t alone.


So beat that, Barbie.


*Sources-
Lord, M.G. Forever Barbie: The Unauthorized Biography of a Real Doll. New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc., 1994.
O’Sickey, Ingeborg Majer. “Barbie Magazine and the Aesthetic Commodification of Girls’ Bodies.” On Fashion. Ed. Shari Benstock and Suzanne Ferriss. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1994.

She Diets and She Speaks

Many of you who follow me on FaceBook know that I have been preparing for my conference called “SheSpeaks.” You may even recall that I wrote a blog entry to try and get a scholarship for this conference (Post entitled Scholarships, Walls, and Tampons- A Very Charlie Message). I didn’t win the scholarship, but was still able to squeak out the registration fee and am leaving for the conference which is being held in North Carolina in a mere 13 days.


SheSpeaks offers me a chance to do what I love doing- hone my writing and speaking skills so I can be more effective when I have the opportunity to reach out to other women. It has been a whirlwind of preparation these past couple of days, and the preparations are far from over, but I wanted to take a few minutes and talk to you about some of the issues I have been grappling with as I get ready to put myself out there in front of speaker evaluators, publishers, and literary agents. This is big stuff, folks, and it is a huge deal for me. Anything that is a huge deal to me means that you get to be a part of it. I am committed to taking you with me on my journey, wherever it leads. And for those of you who just read for diet ideas and help, stick with me. I am going to talk about my faith in this one, but trust me, it is all connected.


So we shall look at this whole thing and see if we can’t work out some of the insecurities that I am facing. Don’t you feel privileged to be in my inner circle? Here we go. Brace yourself for a whole lot of ugly, folks.


I am NOT like other women. This may come as quite a shock to you all, but I am extremely unconventional. (I feel shocked!) I also fall into the category of wacky, unconformist, and well, just plain Charlie. I would like to say that I don’t care what others think about me, but in reality- I do. I have suffered from very low self esteem in the past, and continue to struggle with that even now. To a much lesser degree of course, but even so- I am not the sweet darling little Christian girl who talks about love and rainbows and happy stories about angels. I am the woman who has been saved from hell and herself by the skin of her teeth, who is honest and real about her catastrophic life and decisions. I continue to make God call me His “Little Wild Child.”


For those of you out there who maybe don’t know Christ, or know Him because of the healing blood He poured out, this lack of “religiocity” may be quite comforting. You aren’t going to get lectures from me about the need for Christ in your life. What you will get is a darn good story about the radical changes that Christ can do in your life from a firsthand perspective. And I’ll probably say “crap” at least once during the talk. It’s not going to be a churchy message, but I promise it will be a message you will remember forever, and in your darkest hour, you may recall that I was once in the pit where you are and told you how I got out. That is my prayer.


Now, not every good Christian girl can or will embrace my method of preaching. And that is a huge concern for me. In the past, I would have become the chameleon, the person who morphs her message to appease the church crowd. Tweeked her message to fit in. I would have dressed up the JC Penny collection to look more like I belong to Rodeo Drive.


This is where you all come in.


One of the greatest gifts I have received from our bloggy relationship is that I have learned the power of gut wrenching honesty. The hardest thing I have done lately was to start giving you real numbers about what I weigh, and as you may recall, the number wasn’t under 199. Friends, family, and even old friends from high school read this blog, and it was one of the scariest moves I made. But the reception I received far outweighed what I weigh. I found that you all became closer to me, you related, and you accepted. In fact, after my bold move of being real and transparent, my numbers of readers actually went up. (BTW, here’s a shout of love to my readers in Lexington KY! You all know who you are!!!)


My goal at this conference is not to become who I am not, but to embrace who I am. I am not going to be everyone’s cup of tea, and that is fine with me. That doesn’t mean that I should change anything about me or my message. God didn’t give me another person’s story to tell. He gave me the message of how I was an obstinate girl who ran away while He stayed hot on my trail chasing me down. (What an awesome love story!) I intend to stay true to that story. Maybe it’s a good thing I am NOT like other women. How fun would that be, anyway?


Now, another thing I am stressing over is the fact that I didn’t hit my goal for July yet. I am 183.6 today. I am 3.4 pounds and 14 days away from the end of July, when I wanted to be in the land of the 170s. After reading the last blog, I know my tendency is to drop 9 in 2 weeks and then get stuck. But I have been slacking a little on the exercising lately. I’ve still been walking 5 miles a week, but I have not been going the “extra mile” like I should be. I really need to push myself, but I have been justifying it because I’m so gosh darn busy right now. I need to balance getting ready for this conference and making sure I stay true to the weight loss, which is not a selfish thing at all. Losing weight was something God asked me to do at the beginning of the year.

Many of you have heard this story already, but God asked me to lose the weight because He said “It can’t go where I want to take you. No one will believe that I am King of your life when it looks like you only serve Ben and Jerry’s.” No, God didn’t SPEAK those words out loud, but it was the whisper of my heart. I think this is what’s different about dieting now and why I am finding success. This is about more than fitting into a size 8 for me. It’s about trusting God to work in my life on something I could NEVER EVER do on my own. Learning to let go of what I considered normal (fast food, donuts, cookies) and letting a new normal come over me (fruit, veggies, whole grains) and embracing the adventure of change.


Something I am going to be very careful of is what I eat at the conference, and finding time to exercise. I am taking the staple (Fat Girl Yoga DVD for the mornings) and will see if any of the other girls want to walk at night. (Maybe I can start some satellite OSCBB walking groups and send them out across the country. Coming soon to a city near you!) One of the hilarious parts of this whole trip is that we had the option of putting our blog name under our own for the nametags. Of course, that made me giggle and snort, because having the words Operation Shrink Charlie’s Big Butt below my own is hilarious. And helpful. I’m counting on girls to watch me as I fill my plate at meal time, and question me on my choices. Accountability abounds!


And finally, as you all remember, my goal at 175 is to quit smoking. That has been the plan for 7 months now, and I am almost there. But not yet. Instead of pushing myself to hurry the process along, and quit before I go so I am thoroughly a wreck, I have opted to go as I am, Camel Menthol Lites and all, and enjoy the conference instead of going through nicotine detox while trying to be professional. I will take a patch to cut down on the day time breaks, but at night, this is still who I am. I am praying that these wonderful girls will understand, and support the fact I am working on food first, smokes second. If they don’t, I’m sure they will let me know. But I am open about it, am not going to hide it, and am secretly hoping I will find one other closet smoker in the group. (Horrible, I know, but still…everyone needs a buddy.) (If you are going to the conference and are a secret smoker, email me ;) God isn’t coming down on me about it right now, and I am on tenterhooks that my conference mates won’t either. One major change at a time is more than enough to handle. And when I go back next year, I won’t be smoking. Or fat. Cause I’ll be at goal. And that is way under 175. So stick that in your pipe and smoke it!


SO that’s the stuff on my mind at the moment. A lot to try and chew on, but what else is new? I feel better when I get all my insecurities out in the open, because then I’m not hiding anything. If you are a person who prays, I would like to ask that you pray for me about these things: That I stay true to the person God made me to be and don’t give in to peer pressure of conformity, that I make healthy choices about food and exercise while I am there, that I won’t worry about the smoking for now, and I will be accepted for who I am at the moment and not have to feel like a leper.


On a positive note, I was really freaking about the clothes I would wear to the conference, but not for the reason you might think. We are supposed to dress “business casual” which poses a HUGE problem for me. Uh, all my business clothes are a size 24 or 26. I am much smaller than that now, and am not exaggerating when I say I had NOTHING to wear. And I can’t go in the buff and have all my tattoos showing, now can I? So I looked on a few clearance racks at the mall where a group of us OSCBB Danville girls walk, and would you believe I got 3 outfits for $40! Enough to last me the whole weekend! AND (wait for it) they were all in the Junior sections, and are either a junior XL or a size 14. Everything fits! And they are cute! The whole wardrobe was found in 20 minutes, so don’t think I was obsessing about what I should wear. I just needed something! But the options I found scream “Charlie” and I couldn’t be happier about it! Tonight I’ll have Matt take a current picture of me and let you see one of them. But I was totally excited that it all fell in my lap. What a great God thing to happen to a rock and roll girl like me.


I hope that you have enjoyed delving into another segment of “Charlie’s neurosis.” See, I am just like you! (Well, maybe different in some ways, but remember- all of us, even the skinnys, have issues.) What do you guys struggle with? I’m curious, and frankly, I don’t like feeling alone. Post something you struggle with on the comments. I bet that you aren’t alone either!

Still shrinking and stressing-
Your ole’ pal Charlie

The Weighting Game

OK, after almost 10 months of watching the scale, I once again am stuck. Sure, we could blame horror-moans, cheating, Twinkies, the Cracker Barrel, or a host of other things. But we won’t. I’m not even going to whine! (Well, maybe a little, but I will be subtle about it.) Today, we are going to explore 2 very different takes on plateaus, and how we can overcome them.

First we are going to look at the magical numbers of 4, 5, and 6. Your numbers might be different than mine, but everyone has 3 numbers. No, this isn’t numerology (sorry, John Travolta). These 3 numbers represent a place on the scale that my body hits and wants to stay. Yup, as if my period isn’t enough, I have yet another cycle to endure. The Weight Cycle.

I have no science or medical opinion to back me up on this whatsoever. And I’m not going to claim that I know everything about it. I’m just a 3rd party telling you what I have observed in my own diet life, and I bet you good money (or a lovely Crème Brule) that you have experienced it too. Here is what happens:

I hit 215. I spend the next 3 weeks to a month bouncing up and down between 214 and 216. I finally move past it, and I drop the next 9 pounds in 2 weeks. Then I hit 205. I do the same thing, moving between 204 and 206, struggling for almost a month, and dropping another 9 pounds in 2 weeks. I did the same thing at 195, exact same cycle, and now I am doing it again with 184-186. I saw 184.0 twice this month, then watched it billow back up to 186 point whatever.

I have a couple of choices here. First of all, this is what my body does. Although it is rather frustrating and annoying, I can embrace that my body loses about 10 pounds in 6 weeks. Then I go through the cycle all over again. I write about being stuck when I can’t take it anymore, and about that time I move into the next 10 pounds. I always attributed it to the blog, and that there was some type of mental release that happened and I broke through the plateau.

After a quick conversation from a weight loss guru today (she is a leader of a particular group, but I won’t name which cause this dieter doesn’t play favorites till I get some cash)(but this gal is fantastic!!!) I realized that I go through this every time I hit the numbers of 4, 5 and 6. Honest to goodness, gals, I experienced such a crazy sense of release about it! Maybe these plateaus aren’t due to my own inadequacies as a dieter. This is just another part of the dieting period we talked about a few weeks ago. And as long as I realize that’s what it is, I’ll be ok. I don't have to beat myself up or only eat broccoli for a week to overcome it. I need to ride the natural wave that my body goes through, and wait excitedly for the next 6 weeks to begin!

OK, there’s the first observation of plateaus. Completely rational and biologically sound, proven by the nature of the blogs that I write. (Seriously, feel free to look back and check the dates. It was freaky how I was diet cycling and didn’t even know it!) Now we move into the next phase of getting stuck, and I bet that we can all relate to this one too.

It’s about getting too comfortable. Here’s how it works:

You lose a bunch of weight, and although you aren’t close to your goal, people begin to notice. They tell you how great you look, and you feel fantastic. You feel so good, in fact, that one day of cheating won’t kill you. After all, you have looked in the mirror, and you DO look pretty great! And even after that day of cheating, looking in the mirror doesn’t seem to show any difference, so another day of cheating is just fine. Before you know it, a week of cheating has passed and 5 pounds is back. Well, you will work on it next week, right? But before you do, there are just a few more foods you want to indulge in… can I get an amen?

This is a really tricky place to be, and I admit that I am right there. With 52 pounds gone (yeah, I was only at 186 today. Stupid dieting cycle!), I look a lot different. People notice that something is different, and are amazed and proud that I have shrunk. Which is great! I thrive on the accolades of my family, friends, and random strangers who say “Are you the big butt girl I read about?” I love it!!! But that’s exactly the problem, because looking like I do now makes me feel great. What is tough is remembering that I still have more to go, and need to keep pushing. You can’t get comfortable with where you are.

Now, before you all come at me with pitch forks and torches, let me say something here. It is important to ACCEPT yourself, regardless of where you are. You need to find peace with your life, and if you don’t have that peace let me know. I’ll tell you how I got it. Yet there is a huge difference between acceptance and complacency. Acceptance says “I am here, and it’s ok for now.” Complacency says “I am here, and I’m ok with staying here forever.”

When we get full of all the complements and kudos, feeling comfortable and/or complacent isn’t much of a stretch. I often wondered how some people who lost a good amount of weight put it back on before they finished the weight loss journey. I think this is the reason.

So how do we fight that feeling of “this is good enough” that throws us in a tailspin? It is impossible to control what comes out of other people’s mouths, and you certainly appreciate those compliments that keep you going. On the other hand, you don’t want to smash every kind word into bits, or beat yourself up about not being at goal yet. Where is the balance between continued action and comfort?

It is found in the simple act of acceptance. This is who you are today. Yes, it feels really good to be here, but tomorrow, you will be in a new place. It won’t be like today, because you can keep trying for bigger (or smaller) and better things for your life. You aren’t the same person you were when you were 16, right? (I say thank heavens I’m different!) So why should you think that where you are today is the only place you’ll ever want to be? Even when you do hit your goal, there will be doors opened up to you that were once closed. Life is always changing, because we are always changing. Our Creator planned it that way.

I recently wrote a song about my own weight loss journey, and I think the 2nd verse expresses what I mean quite poetically. It says, “I accept enough to say that this is who I am, and I’m brave enough to say it’s time for a change. Even when I fall it forces me to stop and stretch my legs.” I like that part. It gives my moments of failure purpose, and when I can give them purpose and meaning, they aren’t failures at all!

I hope that you all have enjoyed exploring these plateau pains with me, and I hope that they help in your own journey. I love getting all this mess out in the open and hashing things out with you. It really does help me- more than you all probably realize- and your faithful reading keeps me trucking toward me goal and reaching for the 48 pounds I have yet to go.

So don’t be surprised if you see me in public and say “Hey, you’re looking good” if I reply like this: “Thanks! I feel great. But just you wait till you see me 6 months from now. You’ll really be surprised at how much I’ve changed then!”

The only comfortable thing I’ll be wearing for the next 6 months are my yoga pants.

Independence Days from the Diet

So it sounded like a good idea at the time, taking one weekend off from my veggies and fruit, and living it up on my plate. After 2 days of not calorie counting and eating whatever I wanted, I was shocked to see 189 on my scale this morning. Yep, that means I am back to losing only 49 pounds. OUCH!

I figure that most of us spent the weekend celebrating the 4th with barbeques, cookouts, and potlucks. (At least those of you readers who are in the States.) And for those of us who are fighting the battle of the bulge, it leads to a sorrowful morning after when we assess the damage on the scale. Here’s the rundown of my weekend.

I started getting lazy on Friday, which was my darling husband’s day off. We splurged a little, and I thought one night wouldn’t hurt so bad. With gusto and resolve, I was determined to be a dieting superstar on the 4th, and show off my new healthy eating skills. I did great on Saturday at lunch, chowing down on fruit salad and a turkey dog. But then I was presented with pizza as an impromptu meal on Saturday evening. Pizza, like French fries and Oreos, is a weakness for me, and instead of asking my sister-in-law if I could raid her fridge for something healthy, I snarfed it down. Since I’d already blown it, I added some potato chips. From that point on, the rest of my food choices resembled something like a dieter’s rap sheet, or the temptation locker on the Biggest Loser. Yep, I kept right on eating.

And this morning, all I could do when I saw 189 was say, “I guess I earned that” and do my best to ignore the leftover peach pie and patriotic cupcakes in the fridge.

Now, we have got to figure out how to survive holidays, because they come around often. When you figure up all the holidays we celebrate in America, there are 10 biggies, not to mention birthdays, anniversaries, vacations, etc…and we celebrate all of them with food!!! And at least 3 of them with candy! So we have got to get a game plan together before we all have a diet busting holiday again! Here are my thoughts. Mind you, I followed NONE of them this weekend, and was a horrible example. But this is how we learn, right?

1. I hate this one. Eat your healthy stuff before an event. Fill yourself up with good food so you aren’t tempted to graze during a party. This one works well if you are going to a shindig that is short and sweet. If it’s going to last longer than 3 hours, don’t count on your low-fat cheese and yogurt to hold you. But it’s a great plan for birthday parties and open-houses.

2. Bring a healthy alternative to share with the group. Forget the veggie plate, make something exquisite that will cause a pile up at the food table! You can look on websites for fantastic appetizers, look like a real Martha Stewart, AND stick to your diet. You can’t lose on this one!

3. PACK YOUR FOOD. I mentioned this in the last posting about my red lunch bag. Unglamourous? Yes, very much so. Unreasonable? Not at all! My husband’s family did a great job of providing a very sensible meal for lunch time. Which was fantastic. But it would have been rude of me to expect the same for supper. Looking back, it should have been second nature to pack some extra nutrition for the day. I was just being blonde I suppose, but I honestly didn’t worry about it. And today, the scale made me pay the price. Packing things high in fiber like nuts, apples, and even my fav, Fiber One granola bars, will keep you feeling fuller longer, and can last you till you get home.

4. In a situation like I was in with pizza, ask if you can order a healthy alternative and pay for it yourself. I could have ordered a small whole grain Hawaiian pizza with less cheese, and it would have been better than a double meat double cheese double my serving pizza. But I didn’t do that either.


I hope that these ideas help. Do you have some of your own that have helped you in sticky wickets like parties and BBQs? Feel free to post them on the comments below, so other people can read how YOU are staying true to your diet. Heaven knows I sure blew it, and will be working extra hard this week to get back on track.

Which is a greater probability for something totally ridiculous will happen to me and ya’ll will get the funny blogs you love so much. Until then, I’ll be working off my 4th of July fluff on the highest incline my treadmill will go, and marching to my own particular brand of freedom!

The Suckage Factor of Dieting

It’s official. Dieting sucks. There’s no way to get around this awful truth. Carrot sticks cannot replace carrot cake. Apple slices cannot replace French fries, no matter how cute the packaging. An hour of aerobics doesn’t feel nearly as good as an hour of watching TV, or taking a nap. Dieting hurts!

And yet- does it hurt as bad as having to shop in a specialty store where they overcharge you for clothing that resembles brightly colored moo-moos? Is it as painful as buying a bra that looks like a pup tent, only to see yourself in the 3 way mirror and discover your back has better cleavage than your front? Is dieting really harder than being fat in a world built for scrawny people?

One of the most important things we fat girls need to understand is the skinny ones have issues too. Trust me, that is one place the scale is equal. All the insecurities that you may feel are shared by the girl wearing a size 2. You are worried about cottage cheese on your rear, they are worried about the underground zit that they feel forming on their chin. You see the belly jelly or muffin top you are sporting under your clothes, they see a crooked tooth or a lazy eye that mascara can’t hide. Your issues have nothing to do with your weight. Not really. It isn’t helped by the extra pounds that you and I have, but if the weight wasn’t there, I guarantee we would find something else to freak out about.

So go with me here for a minute. What if….we are making a bigger deal out of losing weight than it really needs to be? I know, I know, this is the queen of big deals and drama suggesting such a radical notion. I make mountains out of molehills every single day. In fact, 3 days ago, I emailed a friend who I hadn’t talked to for 2 weeks and asked her if she was throwing away our friendship. Her emailed response was “Woman, are you on your period?” I actually was, so I figured I was being overemotional about the whole thing.

Which is exactly what has happened to me on this weight loss journey. 6 months ago, I nearly collapsed at the idea of not eating cookies, and drinking diet soda instead of regular. I never could have imagined bringing my own food to a family function or restaurant. And heaven forbid I could ever get through a mile on the elliptical machine! I was angry, bloated, and after every 10 minutes of exercise, a new undiscovered muscle in my body cramped.

I was on my dieting period.

Because here I am, 6 months later, telling you (and myself) that we can do this. I am losing, shrinking, and haven’t forgotten to laugh along the way, or share it with you. I am enduring a pre-workout before I walk with the official “Operation Shrink Charlie’s Big Butt Walking Group,” which pounds the pavement for over 2 miles. They make fun of me, and I love every jib and jab they throw! And sisters, I don’t care what kinds of dirty looks I get from waitresses when I pull out my bright red lunch bag, start opening all my food from home, and ask them for a glass of water and a plate! (But I ALWAYS tip them like I had eaten a meal there. Dieting is NO excuse to be cheap!) Sure, I had to endure some rough moments there in the beginning. And the middle. And even today, I am trying to smother a craving for ice cream in this blasted heat! But I know what I can accomplish- if I stand determined, eat determined, and exercise determined!

One of the best things about this blog is that it has allowed me to grow into my newfound courage and openness about my weight, and more importantly- out of my old clothes. It’s really awesome when I am able to squeek into a new size, now hitting ones I have never fit into as an adult, and see how well it fits me. But better still is the pair of size 26 shorts that I STILL wear once a week, falling off of me, and reminding me that all the frustration I packed around before is falling off of me to. Dieting sucks. It hurts. Sometimes it feels like pure agony. But so was wearing those shorts last year when they fit me. Now, I hold on to them, keeping them up, reminding me that other women are wearing my old shorts too.

Maybe it’s you. Maybe you can’t breathe in the shorts you are wearing right now. Maybe you are sick and tired of the dieting cycle and want to make a break for it. Maybe you are needing that push to give you hope again that it can work.

Well, consider this your push. It can work. It will work. But it won’t happen if you don’t push, or work, or pour yourself into the dieting adventure just one more time. I love playing the lottery. Yeah, maybe it’s gambling, but I always do stuff I probably shouldn’t be doing. Anyhoo, the tag for the Illinois lottery is “Somebody’s gonna lotto. It might as well be YOU!” I love that saying! You don’t know what you can do if you don’t try. You won’t win the golden ticket if you don’t buy the Willy Wonka chocolate bar! (WAIT! THAT IS COUNTERPRODUCTIVE TO MY MESSSAGE! DON’T BUY A CANDY BAR!)

My point is this. If you are stuck on your dieting period, and are scared to give it another chance, then you are in the right place. Consider this your new home. I’m not going to sell you anything. In fact, I do all of this without making a dime (but am open to suggestions)! My goal is not to receive riches and new cars by extorting you. Nope, I just want to help get you out of those tight shorts you are miserable in and find you something even better to wear. Something that brings out who you really are.

Like with me, for instance. I was always the fat friend. I was the plump bridesmaid. The girl that just needed to lose some weight because she had a really pretty face. Yep. That was me before. Now, I am leading the weight loss band. I am using the inspiration I have found along the way and passing it on to you. I am unafraid to say that dieting is tough, but totally worth it. I am over half way to goal, 48 pounds to go, and am going to take you on my journey as I venture into new territory.

Consider me the Pied Piper of fat chicks everywhere.
I couldn’t be happier about it! So, who's in?

Decidedly Unfabulous

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!

The Right to Bare Arms?

For the longest time, since high school actually, I have had a serious complex about my arms. My flabby jiggly arms. The ones that are connected to my round shoulders and barrel chest. I’m built like a linebacker who was endured a surge of estrogen, minus the hair, adding another cup. A little higher, of course. But not much. Stupid gravity…


As I have been losing weight, I have slowly been warming up to my less than graceful upper appendages, but I'm only lukewarm. Which leads me to a huge dilemma.


I have to attend a formal party next Saturday, and it’s like prom for grownups. Well, for the girls anyway. The guys usually show up in a nice shirt and jeans, which makes for an odd combination. Sequins and denim- like a bedazzler gone awry. And because I have to attend this party, which I am very much looking forward to, I must make a decision that could make or break me. Am I small enough yet to expose the upper parts of my arms to the world?


Part of this predicament is completely mute. There are only so many appropriate dresses that will go around the boobs and not make me look like I am aerodynamically incorrect. Not that Matt would mind, but come on, I have eyes, people, and they are hazel! But I also don’t want to look like a nun, pious and lacking any sex appeal whatsoever. So in finding the perfect dress that is a blend of streetwalker and kindergarten teacher, I am forced to make the big decision.


Sleeveless or sweat factory?


Because on one hand, the sleeveless is a light flowy fabric that has the wonderful capacity to breathe. It doesn’t need altering, and really, the dress doesn’t look too bad. IN MY MIND. But what if I get out there and everyone starts hurling on the spot because my less-fat arms are not as fabulous as I thought? What if my arms are the topic of conversation at every table but mine? What if they aren’t ready to make their public debut?


But on the other hand, I sweat like a pig, and that is not an exaggeration in the slightest. I pour out buckets, and as you may remember, the pits are sensitive to deodorant. I only have 2 kinds that really work, and after 2 hours, I still smell (so I suppose they don’t work that well). So if I wear the strapless dress that is a much heavier fabric with the long wrap to cover up arms, I am going to be comfortable with my pigs in a blanket, except for the fact that I can’t lift them up, or heaven forbid wrap my arms around my darling husband’s neck to romance like I want to. Nope, I am going to be in my own invisible straight jacket. Smelling like a linebacker right after practice.


So, I left the decision up to the only thing I could think of that would be impartial. THE SHOES. Yes, I put a most emotional and big decision in the hands (rather on the heels) of the one thing I could count on. I have gorgeous feet, if I do say so myself, and while we have marched into some precarious messes together, I know they will stand on their own and happily choose my path. It was a big step for me.


Before I left to do some serious shoe shopping, I took my measurements for the first time in 3 months. I have been dreading this because the last time I did it, there was not so much change and my nose got out of joint. It was like saying “You are doing all of this really hard work, and I’m throwing you a bone. But you need to work harder.” It has only been a change of 17 pounds since the end of February, and I wasn’t expecting much. Maybe an inch or 2… 5 tops. As I started tracking my numbers on the Excel sheet, I noticed that the auto sum at the bottom was adding up to double digits. By the time I was finished, I was floored to learn that I had lost 18 inches in 3 months! When I added up the total since the first time I measured everything on January 1st, I am happy to report a grand total of 30.75 inches!!! And I am proud to say that 1.5 inches were off those flabby arms I love to hate. Hmmmm….


I got in the van, filled with joy and courage, to fit the outfits with the perfect shoes and decide from there. I walked around 3 stores, tried on about 15 pairs, and got it narrowed down to a few pairs, but wasn’t in love with any of them. I’m sure looked glorious as I was trying on very formal shoes in my bright red sweat pants pulled above the knee, pretending like I was in one of the two dresses, spinning to see if I would fall flat on my shrinking butt.


That was when I saw them, the perfect shoes for the occasion. I loved those patent leather beauties from the moment I laid hazel eyes on them. And they were like stepping into a cloud, fitting me perfectly. (And I didn’t even have to buy an 8 wide! My feet must be getting thinner too!) Then I found the perfect jewelry, on clearance for $3 at Wal-Mart, and got myself a new bra (had to get a dark one) and a girdle. For those of you who have known me long, or been in a play with me, you know that I am all about the lycra, and have been known to wear more than one girdle at a time. Highest amount at one time was 4. But for this special night, I am only wearing 2. Feeling pretty happy about the shrinking body.


So, I am not going to tell you which dress won. You have to guess on the survey over to the left. Yep, I want to know what you guys think. You may be surprised! Only 3 people know which dress I am wearing, and Mom, Sheryl and Julia, you are NOT allowed to vote. I will post a picture of me in the winning dress on Saturday, the 6th, right as I am all dolled up and ready to go to the party, so you all can get the full effect.


By the way, I wanted to let you know about an upcoming Operation Shrink Charlie’s Big Butt special! I am going to do an interview with Mrs. Kelly O’Toole. If you don’t know who she is, then you are missing out on meeting a huge inspiration. She was the person who told me how she lost weight. And, people, weight she lost! Only 175 pounds. Yep, you read right! 175 pounds! Absolutely amazing! We are working on getting it together, and she is excited to share some of her experiences, thoughts and insights with us all. She saw me at a wedding on December 27th, talked to me about what she has done to lose such an incredible amount, and by January 1st, I was on the diet train, where I still am today. You can imagine how excited I am to share her story with you! I promise to keep you posted.


Until then, know that I am working out, eating right, and as always- having fun and dragging you along with me. Now go vote!!!

Stuck in the Middle with You!

The only thing I am losing lately is motivation. Yep, I am stalled out again. Although I am stalled out at a lower weight than I was before, and lower than I have been for years, as it were. I am stuck at 200 pounds even.

I have tried everything to get under that not so magical number. Well, I should say I have tried everything that doesn’t require wheat germ, toilets or sweat. I seem to have an aversion to doing that which will make me hurt the next day, including everything but my “Fat Girl Yoga” dvd. Even that has been cast aside because there is not a clean spot in the living room to do it.

So what in the world is holding me back? We discussed this a little in my confessions, but we never got to the real problem, OR solution. (I really could care less about the problem, as I am only interested in how to fix it.) But, my sweet friends, life does not work like that, and I am sure you all know that. We have to figure out the issue before we can move on to smaller and better things. So we are going to muse for a few moments, as I ramble through all my deep dark feelings about being fat, and see if we can’t resolve one or two. My goal in doing this is to not only help myself, but maybe some other dieters out there who have fallen off the wagon. You guys write to me about the same stuff I deal with, and the internet is cheaper than therapy, so I say we do this together! Are you ready? Hang onto your girdles, girls, cause here we go!

Excuse #1- I have been fat all my life, and it’s not going to change.
Ok, coming from a life long fatty, I can relate. I was skinny till I was 8, and got put in a school where I was the underdog. I was miserable, and once I learned to read big thick chapter books, I sat and read while munching on chips. Before I knew what had happened, not only was I the underdog, but I was the FAT underdog. I stayed in this position until…well, I am still in this position, but that is not the point. The point is that we change jobs, get married, get divorced, we even change our hair color! (Heck, I’ve colored my hair for so many years I have no recollection or idea what the real color looks like! Although I’m pretty sure there is grey now. I have children.) So, we make these huge life altering decisions, and they are not made overnight. We have to work for them. When you get a new job, you have applied for it first, made yourself stand out among all the other candidates, interviewed like a pro, and then negotiate your salary before you even get there. If the old job was perfect, you wouldn’t have applied for the new one, right? So your body needs a new job, plain and simple. Yes, it has already been trained to be fat and lazy. Yes, that first day on the job is going to be really hard and scary. But, sweethearts…that new job for your body has way better benefits than the old one. And once you are fully trained, that new job is going to seem really easy. Not to mention that your body will be lengthening its retirement benefits by lowering your cholesterol, shooing away diabetes, and even extending the life and usage of our joints. So you have been fat forever. So what? Today is not forever, my friend. You can’t change yesterday, but you can stand up today with brave face and get to it!

Excuse #2- I am too busy to worry about my diet right now, and don’t have time to exercise. Oh, this one is a fun one. We are all incredibly busy, and no one really has time for anything. I even have neglected this blog for over a month because I am so flipping busy. However, knowing how many of you are at that "BLAH" point (I am too, believe me), I decided to forgo housework today and talk to you. I think when we look at everything as a whole, it seems too involved. We have to count out portions, pack lunches, ignore family and loved ones to make time for exercise, etc. Dieting IS time consuming, I’ll give you that. But it is also about making good healthy choices in the moment. Regular or diet? Diet or water? Fries or salad? Elevator or stairs? Do you see? In the split second that we make decisions like that, we can change our lives drastically, by putting good things in, moving our body, and walking past that office birthday cake. I know that we don’t have hours to put into dieting, but I promise you that you have split seconds to turn your life around.

Excuse #3- This is going to slow for me. I need immediate results, and I am not thrilled about how long this is going to take! Have you ever tried to grow out your bangs? This is the hardest thing a woman can do. You all know that your bangs get to a point where they are not long, but they are not short. They are at that wretched in between stage when you can’t do anything with them. Does everybody know what I am talking about? It takes time to grow them out, no matter what you do. Usually, when mine are growing out and they get to that in between stage, I whack them off even shorter before. Do you know why? Because they get into my eyes and it makes me nuts (nuttier than before, anyway), so off they go! Alright, you are dieting. You have seen some results, but you are still far from a size 6. Just look at it this way. This is the annoying stage when your diet is getting in your eyes. It bothers you, and you really can’t do anything but keep going and say “the heck with it!” If you cut it off now, you will never see how far it is going to go and how awesome it will look when you hit goal. So, put the cupcakes down, and pick the dumb bell up. Start banging out some jumping jacks, and get through this, one step at a time!

Excuse #4- I have too much weight to lose. It’s overwhelming! OK, when this whole dieting adventure started, my waistline could have gotten a senior citizen discount. It was awful. I had one pair of jeans that fit me, and they were a whopping size 26. I fit my 55 inch waist in those puppies, and they were snug. I know what it feels like to have over 100 pounds to lose. I started this journey at 238 pounds, and that was the number I got before I stopped weighing myself. So I know how this feels, like it is just too much to handle. But you have to start somewhere, before you become the subject of a half-ton special on TLC. SO- why not here? Why not today? I have talked about little decisions, and life changing steps that take time. The clock has to begin sometime. Since I started dieting, I have lost 38 pounds, and happily report that my waist is a svelte 38.5 inches. That is 16 and a half inches I have lost on my WAIST! It felt like a lot to begin with, and it was painful to see how far I had to go. But I committed to drive on this trip, and not fly. It’s important that I keep pressing the gas pedal and steer toward Disneyland. I may only be half way there, but that doesn’t mean it’s time to turn around and go home!

Excuse #5- I have gained back all the weight I previously lost, so that means I am a total failure. Dieting again is only going to lead to disappointment and will prove that I can’t do it! First of all, you have proven that you can do this already! You lost it once, you can do it again! Just because you fall down doesn’t mean you get to wallow on the ground in your misery. It means that you got to take a breather, and now you must get back up and run for your goal! Everybody feels like a failure at something. Mine are too many to list, but include dieting, housework, math…I could go on and on! If you are going to be a quitter, be a quitter at something worthwhile- quit allowing yourself to be the fat you. One of the best things I ever did was make my husband change my nickname. He used to call me SB- Sugar Butt. I now make him call me SB- Skinny Butt. The mental reinforcements are key to your success. If you keep telling yourself that this is impossible, then it will be! But if you start telling yourself that you are beautiful (or handsome for you fellas), that you are capable, and your body is changing at this very moment, you are going to trick yourself into being successful! Once it starts, and you see small results, then you will be back on track. Take measurements, grab a friend who is dieting and walk, let someone know what your weight is to hold you accountable! These things will help you in the long run as you push yourself out of your comfort zone. Dieting is not about comfort. It is about allowing you to be the best you that you can be! That is going to take some commitment, and failure will only cling to you as long as you let it. So, get up! Shake it off! And know that I believe in you. We can do this. I know we can!

Excuse #6- Charlie, I don’t need to lose weight! I only read the blog because it is incredibly funny and you are so gosh darn talented! Then I suggest you go home, eat 10 boxes of Twinkies and a bucket of lard every day for the next week, and quit making the rest of us look fat! But keep reading the blog, cause you’ll need it after that lard hits your thighs!

I hope that this helps you fellow calorie counters out there. I want you all to know that no matter what you are facing, you are not alone! You are not fighting this fight by yourself, and I am here to help, however I can!

I want to thank you all for your emails, updates on your own journeys, and your encouraging words through comments on the blog and facebook. Your friendships are vital to my success, and I promise to keep you all in the loop of my own travels in diet land, as I push ahead in the land of “Under 200 pounds at last!” Yep. It’s gonna happen very very very soon, I just know it!

Until then….

Confessions of a Dieter

Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been 3 weeks since I documented my last weigh in, and it isn’t pretty. I have been stuck at a particular unsightly weight for over a month now, and I got frustrated. I got irritated. I also cheated. As long as I am confessing, I have broken more than a few of the 10 commandments in the process, and I never thought dieting would cause me to sin. Oh, but is has, dear Father, it has!


It all started on Thursday of this past week. I was 6 ounces from hitting 20 pounds of weight loss. I was so excited to finally push past the plateau, and I was determined to hit that 20 pounds on Friday morning. That was when my gift from mother nature arrived, and alas, my “horror-moans” interfered. So did water retention. And a foul attitude. And I did not hit my goal. I was so doggone mad, Father, that I ate french fries for supper. And a roll with lots of butter. And a big fat piece of chicken with cheese and bacon- all of which are cardinal sins for the diet. I really blew it. And I was truly remorseful over my foodie sins, Lord.


Apparently, though, I am able to hold a grudge against myself even better than I hold onto my weight, because Saturday didn’t go much better.


Oh, it tried to start off better, just like your mercies are new every morning. I packed a lunch for my day at Lincoln, filled with school, family/friends, and even a performance of Godspell. I thought about the choices that would be good for me, as penance for my french fries. I thought of everything! And I did really good till about 3pm.


I suppose there is no need for me to mention that by 3pm, I had been awake for 14 hours straight, because I was so obsessive over my homework I got up at 1:30am on Saturday morning to work on it. So I kind of blame my utter exhaustion, Lord. I do. I wasn’t thinking in my right mind. I was running on empty, and those durn cupcakes were like well planted temptation, promising that the sugar rush would refill my empty tank.


In my defense, Father, I only had one half of the smallest cupcake in that kitchen. Although the other half was removed from my hand by my cousin, who proclaimed, “You don’t need this. Let me help you.” He was an angel from you ,Lord! I just know it! Even if it did require a little bit of brute force to pry the teeny tiny half of heaven that was clutched in my greedy paws. It took every ounce of strength not to lick the wrapper of the cupcake. But then the angel would have laughed in my face.


Then came dinner. I had been up for 16 hours at this point, and it was an all you can eat buffet. Now, for the record, I did make good choices on the salad bar. I only had a small serving of dressing on my salad, 8 pieces of pasta in the pasta salad. But it was the steak and those confounded French fries again, Lord, that did me in. I was like a dog that was savored table scraps for the first time. There was no stopping me. I even had a sliver of bread pudding, since I had already blown it. Forgive me, Father. I sinned against you, my body, and my body of readers. It was delicious, but I know it couldn’t possibly taste as good as weighing less than 200 pounds would feel.


Oh, but the temptations didn’t stop there. It was on the way home that the real storm blew in. I don’t understand how it happened, Lord! You know that my night vision is horrific. I am practically blind after the sun goes down. So how is it that I happened to spot a miniscule sign in the gas station that announced they sold Krispy Kreme donuts? And why was the delivery guy there at that exact moment, placing fresh goods in the display cabinet? That is really not fair, Lord, and if we were keeping score, I would count that as a trap; I am simply a victim of profiling. Seriously. I had then been up for 22 hours, and had not one ounce of self control left in me. My sweet husband, who has had NO problems getting to his goal weight, was just trying to make me happy. So he turned the van around and we went into the den of gasoline and calories.


I know that even in my weakness, Lord, you were watching me, because you had 2 angels inside the store, just by happenstance. They were hanging out at the counter, finishing up their purchase, and I KNEW THEM! I was over 50 miles from home, in a town with 500 people, and I KNEW the girls at the counter. I should have walked back to the van right then and there. But I was a woman on a mission, Lord, and not one sanctioned by you.


Belinda and Kathleen saw us, and I admitted that I saw the Krispy Kreme sign and was going to get one donut. Belinda said, “Oh, but only one, Charlie, because you are doing so well…you really are!”


I PROMISED her that there would only be one donut in my gullet by the end of the evening. And I was determined that would be the case. Until I realized that they had glazed donuts AND the ones filled with icing. Lord, my appetite had already been whet for icing from that half a cupcake, and I literally started to drool internally. So I just had to get 2 donuts. But that was all I was getting. Then I had to get some milk to go with them (because who can eat a donut without milk?) but I got skim. It wasn’t all bad!


As we got into the van, Matt and I should’ve driven away. It would have been the prudent thing to do. That was when I noticed that we only had a 1/4th of a tank of gas left. I was just sure that there wouldn’t be another gas station for miles. At least not one that had fresh Krispy Kremes within its walls. So we sat in the parking lot, filling our gas tank and bellies. And would you believe the fricking fracking icing donut didn’t taste nearly good as I expected! It just didn’t! And I wasn’t satisfied with only one glazed donut. I was already mentally committed to having 2 donuts. So when Matt went in to pay for the gas, I had him get me not one, but 2 more glazed donuts! I snarfed them down really fast so I wouldn’t have to think about breaking my promise to Belinda of only getting one.


When I woke up on Sunday, Lord, I was a broken woman. I was now going to have to lose 3 pounds to get to my 20 pound loss, instead of 6 ounces. So to console myself, I had French fries just one more time that night.


Sweet Jesus, I am back on the straight and narrow today. And for this weekend, I can only express to you how stupid I was to let something as small as a donut cause me such turmoil and make me fall into the depths. This week, I suppose I have a few things I need to do to make up for the wretched way I dieted this weekend.

1. I need to make sure that I mentally keep my brain in check. Exhaustion leads to poor food choices because I just don’t care what I eat if I am sleepy.

2. I need to apologize to Belinda for not keeping my word to her.

3. I need to wear the size 18 jeans when they are fresh out of the dryer so I can feel them squeeze my big butt and remind me of the price for falling into the hole. (of a donut that is) (make that 3 holes)

4. I need to figure out what it is that is keeping me from obtaining the less than 200 mark. I obviously have something internally that is holding me back, and it needs to go.

5. I need to never ever ever take my eyes off the road I am traveling on, lest I see another Krispy Kreme sign that will cause me to fall.


So there is my confession, Father. I humbly ask for your forgiveness, and pray that this week you give me the strength to apply myself and get back to being 6 ounces short. Because I really don’t deserve to hit the magical 20 this week. And, not that you need to be told what to do, but I would appreciate it if you could add an 11th commandment added to the list.


“I do-nut need donuts.”

Scholarships, Walls, and Tampons- A Very Charlie Message

All right, dear readers, we are going to take a little departure from the dieting escapade and get serious for a moment. But you all know that serious with me is still fun, so stick with this, OK?

There is a contest going on for a free scholarship to attend the SheSpeaks conference this summer, provided by Proverbs 31 Ministry. This is a great organization, and if you have never checked them out, you are missing out on some serious faith building. They are committed (in more ways than one, I think! ;) to helping women draw closer to God, and as I have mentioned before on OSCBB, I am a preacher in training, so they are a part of my daily routine with their devotionals. It is also confirmed that they have checked out our hidden gem of a blog, and enjoyed it (see the comments after the previous post- Why Gas Hurts the Local Economy). This scholarship is worth over $500, and that is a lot of moola! The terms of the scholarship found at

http://lysaterkeurst.blogspot.com/2009/03/she-speaks-scholarship-contest-for.html

and I figured I might have a go at it. I am already planning on attending, but the cost is pretty steep when I tack on the air fare (plus all the extras I am signing up for). And the benefits of this conference would be immeasurable for me, as you will read below. This conference gives information on the nitty gritty of what I want to do, and how to do it well. I’ll even get a chance to meet with a publisher! I really don’t expect to win, but God does amazing things, so we will just wait and see what happens!

Finally, as you read this post, I will advise you that we are going to talk a little about my faith in Jesus Christ. I KNOW many of you readers are not necessarily Christian, or affiliated with any faith in general. But if you could, just for me, JUST THIS ONCE, keep reading. You all know about my hips, my boobs, my car, my diet, and my family. It’s high time that I introduced you to my main squeeze and Savior, Jesus. Our relationship is just as nutty as the rest of my life, so I promise that this will be interesting!!!

OK, hold on to your hats- cause you are in for a ride!

My Faith is a Tampon
(C’mon now, did you ever doubt my ability to make this fun?)

I have purchased over 5,000 tampons in my life. I just did the math. 17 years, a box a month, it all adds up. I have probably passed 40 or 50 under the walls of a public bathroom stall, and have had to accept just as many over the years. I even had to use one as my “something borrowed” an hour before my wedding ceremony when Matt and I got hitched! And it got me to thinking as I crunched the numbers.

Is my faith as accessible to others as my tampons are?

I keep extra tampons in my purse at all times, just in case someone needs them. There is no shame in asking a complete stranger for something so intimate and personal to a woman. In fact, this rite of passage unites us in a strange way. I still remember the first time I heard that all too familiar question from a stall 3 doors down from me. “Does anyone have a tampon?” I sure did, and I passed that to the woman next to me, who passed it to the woman next to her, who gave it to our unseen stranded friend.

But when it comes down to it, my faith gets hidden a lot. I keep it tucked away in my purse of my heart. I tend to qualify who receives the message God has placed on my heart, making sure they are ready to hear it, giving lots of disclaimers about it (“I don’t mean to offend you, but…”), and tiptoeing around feelings. I’m pretty sure that this is not what God intended when He gave the call to teach, preach, and make disciples in every nation. His Word was meant to be out in the open, for all to see, and available to all.

Part of my secretiveness is due to the utter disaster zone I have made of my life. Folks, there is not a person in the world who could have sinned more than me! And some of you know this first hand because you were right there with me! I look at the mess my life has been and think that my witness to share the gospel has been destroyed. Maybe to some of you it has, and for that- I am so sorry that you had to see me at my worst, and I am horrified that I made a mockery of the name of Christ. My most sincerest apologies cannot ever cover the scope of my sorrow over how I may have led you astray.

Another reason I am so guarded with my faith is that I am still growing and learning myself. My faith has been a lot like the diet. Loss, then a gain, then a loss, then a gain…it isn’t fair that I have to put you through that up and down.

Or is it?

Over the last year, God has been doing some pretty amazing things in my life. I am SO FAR from where I want to be with Him, but yet I can’t contain my excitement for what He is doing right now!!! There is a story in the Bible that describes exactly where I am, and it is found in Joshua 6, verses 4 through 20. I am not going to make you read it all, but I will give you the highlights. Joshua had been told by God that he needed to enter into the city of Jericho with the Israelite nation. There was a catch, though, just like there’s always a catch in my life. There was a wall around the city of Jericho. It was over a foot thick, and anywhere from 35-40 feet tall. They had to get over that huge wall, somehow. Lucky for them, God had a plan. They had to march around the city, blowing trumpets and praising God. Let’s take a quick peek at verses 12 through 14.

12 Then Joshua rose early in the morning, and the priests took up the ark of the LORD. 13 And the seven priests bearing the seven trumpets of rams’ horns before the ark of the LORD walked on, and they blew the trumpets continually. And the armed men were walking before them, and the rear guard was walking after the ark of the LORD, while the trumpets blew continually. 14 And the second day they marched around the city once, and returned into the camp. So they did for six days.

Did you see how long they had to march? 6 days without any progress that the human eye could see! I wonder how they felt as they gathered up their horns and the ark of the covenant on the morning of day 6, only to determine that nothing was really happening? I bet they felt discouraged and frustrated. Maybe even a little stupid as they had to make noise and draw attention to themselves. People are people, and people are nosy. I look out the window when I hear a siren that is maybe miles away, wondering if I will catch a glimpse of the current event. So I can imagine the scuttlebutt going on inside the walls of Jericho, talking about those crazy Israelites who were marching around the city for no reason at all. I bet they were lined up on top of the wall to see what in the world these children of God were doing!

The good news is the story ends well. On the 7th day, Joshua 6:20 tells us that the walls of the city fell down flat and the Israelites were able to overtake the city, just as God promised.

SO- what does the wall of Jericho have to do with me, my faith and tampons? Ladies and gentlemen- (those of you men brave enough to stick around after my talking about tampons, that is…) I am marching around the place that God has planned for me. Right now, I am circling it, it’s so close I can reach out and touch it, but it isn’t mine yet. Honestly, it feels like I am on day 6 of the marching. I’ve been going round and round for a while, just waiting for the walls to fall down so I can go in. I might not have the biggest faith everyday, which is the up and down of this life, but doggone it, I am still marching! And I may not have a trumpet, but my kazoo is blasting out as loud as I can get it. These walls are going to fall down!

And where, exactly, do I think God is leading me? What is it that I am marching around that is calling me day in and day out? I know, you are all on the edge of your seats!

My job is to hand out the tampons (my faith) so that everyone is prepared. I need to throw them out so women can catch them, with enough to pass out in their own bathroom stalls (their homes, workplaces, and among their friends). My goal is to help women become more confident about sharing their own faith and have fun along the way! You all know that I am a gifted writer (and thanks for all the kudos, by the way), a songwriter and singer, and now I am going to pass on the big secret. I LOVE TO TALK. Big surprise, yeah? I could stand in front of a thousand women and make them laugh, cry, and learn to love Jesus and themselves a litter deeper than they ever thought possible. It’s not because of my own talent, but because God has decided to use me, Charlie: sinner extraordinaire, with big mouth and a big butt, and a whole lot of spunk. God asked me to step up to the plate and be real and honest with women about my struggles; my past riddled with physical abuse from my dad and my ex husband, my need to be accepted at any cost and how that has really messed me up, and my redemption- spending time broken at the foot of the cross because no other place wanted me. Even about my fight with weight loss, and how that has turned out to be the hardest task yet! No wonder life has been such a journey for me- I was just getting stamps in my passport of life so I could prove I have been around the block!

So my faith really is a tampon. It’s not pretty, it’s rather embarrassing to get for the first time, it’s important to share, AND IT IS NECESSARY.

I have to share this story with you. When Tim was 2, I found him on my bathroom floor, surrounded by a box of open tampons. They were all over the place, opened and had been, um, how shall I put this? Ah, yes. SPRUNG.

I asked him what he was doing, and he took the last unopened tampon from the box, ripped it open and hit the bottom of the tampon on his palm, popping the tampon out of its applicator. He grinned and said, “Look Mama! ROCKETS!!!”

People, it’s about time that I let my faith take off like a rocket. I’ve got places to go, and I pray that you will come with me.

Ten…nine…eight…


If anyone would like more information about the conference, please check out this link.
http://www.shespeaksconference.com/