A really tough weekend in Whoville

I admit it. Ever since last month, with the weird mystery positive pregnancy test, I kept hoping. I keep the mustard seed of belief that maybe- just maybe- this next girlie cycle would roll around and we would find out that that it finally happened and the mystery test was right. Especially considering the time frame.

This last weekend was the of the anniversary of the death of Matt's twins. He was in a relationship back before we met, she got pregnant, and the twins didn't make it to full term and passed away the same day they were born. We always remember the kids, and have visited their grave several times.

Also, on September 11th of 2001, I discovered I was pregnant with Tim. Later that morning the whole world fell apart when the attacks on the towers came to pass. It was the last time I realized I was pregnant, so it has been burned into my memory as both a joyous day and a day of sorrow.

So when mother nature came at me on Friday- in full force- I was something you might want to call DISAPPOINTED. Because the thing about me is I know that odds can be defied. I know that miracles happen right when you think your heart is going to bust. If the miracle doesn't happen then, it means your heart is stronger than you thought.

This weekend, I was determined to lean on the fact I was stronger than I thought. Strength is something you don't know you have till it's tested. Instead of spending the weekend moping around, as you might expect to happen, we decided to laugh.

What I can say is that the most wonderful thing happened. Matt and I reconnected in such a deep way that our relationship is forever changed for the better.

It started when we were going to take a walk to the store. We got ready, and decided that we needed more than a few items than we could carry on a walk. Plus, some of the items we needed to get were at Walmart. So we hopped in the car and went.

There is something magical about 2 parents with no kids cruising Walmart like teenagers. We looked at things we don't normally have time to look at (kitchen small appliances- BLISS!) and even tried on sunglasses like dorky people. We held hands in the aisles, and we talked. Not just about the kids, but about our dreams and desires for our life together. We got some McDonald's (I got a grilled southwest salad, Matt got a crazy sized burger and fries- I tasted neither of his items) and we came home and watched Date Night. (Very funny movie, if you haven't seen it.)

The couple in the movie was so dorky and uncomfortable, it reminded us of US. And we loved at the ending. We laughed our way through the movie, and giggled like girls at a sleepover the rest of the night. Laughing until our sides hurt. Laughing till we cried. Laughing until the pain of the weekend was far behind us.

I didn't exercise quite like I wanted too, but I wouldn't trade that intimately close time with my husband for the world. Times like that make us better parents. Better people. Better humans in general. No amount of weight loss could have made me happier than that time with him.

Because when it all comes down to the end, as I lay on my proverbial death bed, I'm not going to wish I had spent more time in isolation exercising and dieting. I'm not going to wish I had given up months in misery to be a few pounds lighter.

I'm going to remember the times I spent time with my family. When we laughed instead of crying. When we drew closer to one another in times of need and supported one another. When we found our cups overflowing with joy.

If you strip away the labels of fat and water aerobics and calories, you will discover that "dieter" is not WHO you are. It's WHAT you are. Dieting is not supposed to be something that keeps you from being WHO you are. It's helping change WHAT you are. Deep down inside, we are people. People with faults and issues and hurts. People who are doing our best to live in a world where we need food to live. It's not something we can ever escape. All we can do is make as many good choices as we can.

I love the story of "How the grinch stole Christmas" by Dr. Seuss. It shows that when all the Christmas trees and lights and gifts are gone, the spirit of Christmas still remains. The residents of Whoville can't have their joy taken away. No matter how much the grinch takes, he can't break the residents of Whoville.

When it comes to dieting, we all have a choice. We can be like the grinch and take away everything on the outside. We can remove the calories and temptations and do our best to "break" our own will. Or we can realize that WHO we are deep inside isn't changed by twinkle lights on the scale. In fact, if we lose the scale, we find that life is still worth living right at that moment. No matter what size we are.

I am so happy to tell you that this weekend was a big break through for me, personally. I realized that the thing that is most important to me is spending time with my family. Showing them that although I act some days as though I am a slave to the diet, THEY are more important to me. The moments with my kids, sharing oreos and milk and talking, are worth the hit I will take on the scale tomorrow. Because tomorrow will always be there, ready for me to have a dieting fresh start. But those precious moments with my kids and husband? They may not be there tomorrow.

So my unsolicited advice about the diet? I know we want to lose weight. It's important to us all. But don't miss the small moments of wonder. Don't be your own diet grinch and make your life unbearable. There is ALWAYS room to celebrate who you really are.

Take it from the residents of Whoville.

Eye Spy

So on Wednesday evening, my contact decided to hate me. I wear the "day to night' type and wear them for a week then spend 2 days in glasses, then put them back in for another week.

Except my right eye got completely jacked up.

Yesterday morning, I had to keep all light out of my eye, because in taking my contact out the day before, I accidentally scratched my cornea. And it felt like someone poured sand in my eyeball.

I tried to keep up on facebook as best I could with my iPhone, but kept mistyping things. And my family spent the entire evening in the dark. I even took a picture of my eye. Gross, huh?

Today, with the eye finally able to handle the light of the computer screen, and much less swollen, I am playing "ketchup."

Here's the rundown.

I weigh 180.4, (down from 183 on Tuesday) and my goal is to behave this weekend, food wise.

I am restarting couch to 5K this weekend.

I will also be taking a bike ride. I'm shooting for 3 miles. Adding one mile every week.

I'm going to do everything I can to support my local teachers, who are facing a strike on Monday morning. For more info, join the Facebook group "Parents in Support of District 118 Teachers" and help us fight with our teachers.

And finally, I am going to start the "Insanity" program. That may wait till Monday. I'm scared of that one, but I think it's time to crank it up a notch fitness wise. I got a longer break than I wanted from the eye fiasco. I'm sure it will make for incredibly funny blog posts. Me doing real pushups and jumping jacks. Those things make me wet my pants. We will see what happens. I'll be blogging all weekend, but for today, I have a crapton of things to catch up on. So I must say adieu for now. But don't worry. I'm like that 5 pounds you lose and gain again and again...

I'll be back!

The Wednesday Sabbath

Yesterday was a big day for me.

I walked 4 miles, biked 2 miles and did water aerobics.

Today, I am taking a day of rest. Wednesdays are my Sundays, and today is My Sabbath.

Because tonight, I am leading worship at my church for the first time in a long while. And I need to be at my physical best to do it well.

Last year, I stopped being in the “limelight” of my church and attended elsewhere for a while. I needed a chance to grow on my own. I was raised in the same church I had been going too. And you all probably know that people who have known you the longest have a hard time letting you grow up.

I had to learn about what I thought was important in my walk with God, the best way to participate in ministry, and had to get a grasp on my body image.

What does body image have to do with anything church related?

A lot. When I used to lead worship, I was very excited about the things God was doing while I was singing with the congregation in front of me from the stage. I watched Him move in powerful ways among the people. And I gave Him thanks for that.

But once I got OFF the stage, I craved the approval of others. I wanted the members to tell me how great I had done, how good it was to see me leading worship. I know it sounds terrible, but it’s the truth.

For a long time in my life, I thought the only real talent I had was singing and leading worship. It was my identity, and everything revolved around that. Especially when I was at my heaviest. I had no personal pride other than my music. I would present power point presentations with special music or songs I had written so people would look at the slides and not think about how fat I was. I never wanted my physical state to alter the message of the music. So I hid as best as I could.

And yet, it became an issue for me, ego wise. Because it was all I felt I had, I craved the attention of others when the music stopped. And it put me in a position where I was being the glory hog instead of giving God the glory.

So, I stopped doing leading worship and took a break. And I worked on getting my outside to a place so I could deal with the inside. And visa-versa. Which doesn’t seem like such a big deal to some people. But for me, it was a very very big deal.

Here’s what I found out on my journey so far.

God created me to be unique. I will never be like anyone else in the world. I have attributes and faults that are all my own. And God’s OK with that. I should be too.

I should remember that no one can do exactly what I do, and the most interesting people I have met were never normal. God’s ok with that, and I should be too.

My body, no matter what I think of it, is a blessing. I’m still breathing, and that makes this a good day. So I should not hide behind plants and power point presentation. God is OK with me, and I should be too.

Self shame, fear and insecurities are nothing more than distractions to take my eyes off God. Nothing my body can do- past, present and possibly skinnyfied future- makes God less important than He is right at this moment. Especially if He is touching the heart of someone sitting in the audience or congregation. It should never be about me. If it is for a brief moment, the underlying message should be about Him. He’s OK with that.

The fact I have come this far along in my journey is testimony. Not self affirmation, not self sacrifice, but the story of how I, by the mere seat of my plus size pants, have fallen into His overwhelming grace. And I am ok with that.

So today is my Sabbath. And tonight I am leading worship. Not karaoke about Jesus, not a choir that is merely singing along to songs we have sung 1000s of times…

But falling into worship of a King who loves unconditionally the way I am presently knit together, stretch marks and all. A God who is willing to go the distance with a girl who still trembles at the grocery store at the cookie and cracker aisle. A God who holds me in His lap and comforts me while I am exhausted from working too hard yesterday and just want to rest. Little distractions may try to come up, but He will not put me down for a second. He will hold me close in His arms and let me rest.

Just like this…

Tuesday Poetry Corner

Oh how the carb-less have fallen.
Due to hormonal strain-
A weekend that begged for some chocolate
Has left me with 3 pounds of gain.

At 183 point something or other
Is where this girl starts her week.
Cause the internal needs of her body
Won out and have left me so meek.

I’m not too upset by this setback.
I knew it was going to hit.
And I’m not about to let this add-on
Turn my dieting week into crap. ;)

I’m focused on tasks set before me
Of fitting into a size eight.
I’ll water aerobic and bike ride
And do what I must do to lose weight.

Because setbacks and gains are no biggy
As long as you still see the goal.
And I won’t think that I’m a failure
For M&M’s down the pie hole.

I’m just gonna keep eating bacon
And stick to ignoring the bread.
Cause dieting’s far more than eating.
I’m sure that it’s all in my head.

The Bike Ride

Yesterday, I had the most ingenious idea. I was going to ride my bike to the store to pick up ink for my printer.


Totally inspired by BitchCakes, who is a supercool blogger that met her goal by using weight watchers and riding her bike. Plus, she's one of those rare vintage hardcore lovers like me. She looks fantastic. My bike isn't nearly as cool as hers, but still...


I was going to start riding my bike from my house and go to Office Max, which is exactly 6 miles from my house. But bikes aren't as easy to ride as I remembered. In fact, it was so tough I only made it half a mile and turned around to come home.


Not to mention the sun was close to setting. I wasn't riding as fast as I thought I would. But being the artsy person I am, I thought I would tape my flip video camera onto the front of the bike and let you see.


I didn't think the camera tripod would keep slipping and making my camera fall to view the ground. So I wound up holding the camera upright until I had to use both hands to turn. At which point it would fall to the ground.

Then I found a song from my new favorite band- The Dollyrots. And I made a video just for you!!!

Happy Labor Day weekend, everyone!!!!

Charlie's a weiner!!!!

I started on Monday at 185.

After 5 days on the low carb, I am sitting pretty at 180.4 lbs.

Don't get too excited people. We have been here before. A lot.

But today is a reason to celebrate! Not only is it my friend Hillary's BIRTHDAY (check out her blog, cause she's giving away tons of goodies) but there has been a change in the Crystal Light front.

If you didn't see it on facebook, you will see it here.

My commercial made the top 3. Which means I am in the running for a cool 7 Gs. (7000 smackeroonies. A down payment for a big house. We have the perfect one in mind, too!)

What was so fun about this commercial in particular is that it is a product I actually enjoy! And you can too. Cause it's sugar free AND delicious. Win win win, folks. Win win win for us all. (we call it being a weiner in this house.)

So here's my commercial for your viewing pleasure. It's worth watching again. (I can say that since I already won $500. Yeah, I did. Yesterday. Just for making it to the final 3. I LOVE making commercials for Poptent!) Wait till you see what I have up my sleeve for the next commercial I am working on!




So here's to a wonderful weekend for us all. We are going to see family on Saturday, then after that, we are going to lay around the house being lazy. What are your plans for Labor day?

The Dear John Letter

(This is an actual email I received yesterday.)

Dear Charlie:

We miss your online orders. What can we do to get you back? How about a special pizza deal just for you? ….. (continued to tempt me with pizza deal)
Dominos

Charlie’s response-

Dear Dominos:

I know you miss my online orders. I miss them too. Cause for a while, all I could think about was my Mac and cheese sauced pasta breadbowl with onions, bacon, more cheese and slathered in garlic butter. I was "Fatal Attraction" obsessed.

Here’s the thing, Dominos. I am still eating the bacon and onions and cheese. Just not with your pasta and breadbowl. Cause I’m doing this new low carb thing, and it’s actually working. In fact, yesterday I fit into a pair of jeans my friend Beth gave me that I haven’t fit into all summer. They are cut like a small 14, and I wasn’t able to button them 3 months ago when you and I were hooking up every few nights. (And for the record, Matt knew I was cheating. He could smell it a mile away. He just turned a blind eye to my food lust. He was trying to keep our marriage together and not let your breadbowls steal me away.)

Back to the jeans. So last night, a mere moment before leaving for church, I tried those jeans on, out of sheer lunacy. And you know what? Just a week after starting the low carb thing, THE JEANS FIT. And although I still am a bit chubby in the belly area, they made my butt look great.

YOU never made my butt look like that! In fact, my butt always looked worse after a night with you! Plus, I felt so guilty the next morning, sometimes it was unbearable. Because cheating on the diet was something I never intended to do. It just kinda happened. Probably because you were so intoxicating. I know it was wrong, but I will admit you were quite delicious to look at.

Maybe it was the sermon at church last night that got to me. We talked about wanting God more and more in our lives. And I remember that a long time ago, God told me the weight couldn’t go where He was wanting to take me. That was about the time you rolled off the prep line. And I fell for you- hook line and stinker. You were a great temptation to me, Breadbowl pasta.

But NO MORE.

I don’t want a life on the sidelines. I don’t want to be a fat wallflower anymore. I wanna be in the front row of the action. And you have to be thinny to push to the front of where I want to be. And becoming thinny takes sacrifice. Lots of lots of sacrifice. (And in the case of my low carb challenge, it takes bacon. Sweet glorious bacon…)

So I have to say goodbye. I almost wrote with a heavy heart I have to say goodbye, but my heart isn’t that heavy. In fact, it is starting to get excited about the changes I am seeing after only 4 days. It’s the jump start my body was begging for. The switch I so desperately needed flipped. It has happened. And when that switch has been flipped, it is easy to say no to you.

Goodbye, dear breadbowl pasta. I know we had lots of fun nights on the couch together. But now, I’m takin my bacon to hang out at the gym. And for long, sweat filled walks of passion. And the bacon thinks I look crazy good in my up to the neck swimsuit (to keep my 3 foot long boobs from floating to the surface. I’ve had enough floaters to last me for a while).

You can delete my number from your database. We are officially through.

Enjoy your future without me, and I hope your store doesn’t go bankrupt from my departure-

Charlie

(Not-so) Wild Wednesday

Wednesday. Day 3 of the low carb induction. Still not tired of bacon. (YAY!!! BACON!!!!) Back-up evil scale is possibly looking less evil-ey, but I’m not holding my breath. I’m giving this a solid week before I make any decisions if this idea was positive or negative and possibly go back to the regular boooooooring diet.

I made it to water aerobics and got my butt handed to me. And you’ll be happy to know I didn’t dare pass gas in the water. Too risky.

I wish to high heavens I had a funny story to tell you. But I really don’t. Believe it or not, crazy girls like me have normal nonchalant days. Not many, but they do happen occasionally!

What I can tell you is if you are a blogger who is looking to network and connect with other fitness minded bloggers (at EVERY stage of fitness, not just the skinnies) then you need to check out Fit Bloggin’ and sign up. It’s a conference that brings all the dieting bloggers together in one room! (Which means I am going to have to meet real people, like DietGirl and maybe my new buddy Charlie Hills face to face. Hopefully I will act better than I did when I met Christabel and the Jons!)

If you haven’t figured it out yet, I have decided I’m going. It’s in May of 2011 in Baltimore MD. (Dear sweet baby Jesus, keep me from breaking down the doors of Charm City Cakes while I am there. Amen.) And that gives me exactly 8 months to get cracking on this diet business. I needed a big goal, and I think meeting the blogger giants (wait, I’m not saying they themselves are huge. Their BLOGS are huge.) is exactly what I needed to get me doing jumping jacks.

Not to mention they are going to have a 5K run/walk for all the attendees. I will not pretend that I am a runner, but I would like to learn how to run a little bit. Maybe a half mile without passing out. Cause that would be poor form. No one wants to fall flat on the pavement in front of their diety heroes. No one.

So that’s the news for today. I am adjusting to back-up evil scale, but I’m withholding any information till next Monday. Just so you will come back to see how I did. (PLEASE COME BACK!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!)

So that’s the word, bird! I hope you all have had a great Wednesday, and remember, tomorrow is Meet Up Thursday. As of this moment, I have NO personal stories lined up, so if you want to promote your dieting/personal blog, here’s your chance! Send me an email at oscbb@yahoo.com with a picture and the story of your journey thus far, plus a blog link. Then I will share you with my readers. Simple as pie!

(Yum, pie….)

Till tomorrow!!!

Tub Thumping

I wanted to wait till I survived my pap smear today before I blogged. You never know what funny things can happen while in stirrups. However, I am sad to report that the exam went off without a hitch. No problems, no issues, no French kissing like when I was at the dentist… nothing funny to turn into a great story.

Which means that I shall have to report about last night’s bath time. And YES, this has everything to do with dieting.

I am a bath lover. I take at least 3 baths a week, and enjoy soaking for as long as I can possibly get away with. I also have been known to multitask while in the tub. I have eaten dinner, read books, played cards, and even done needlepoint while enjoying a hot soak. And Matt has walked into the bathroom more than once and found me out cold- napping. I love taking baths!

Yesterday, after starting fresh on my low carb diet, I kinda overdid it on the bacon. I admit it. I have mentioned my torrid love affair with bacon numerous times on the blog, and yesterday it was like I was given the keys to pork city. I had more bacon than one person should ever consume. (Ok, not that much, but going from none to lots was a big change for me.) My stomach, used to high fiber veggies 24-7 and fruit, was ill prepared to handle the switch to high fat/low carb foods. Add to that the fact I was coffee free, which is a miracle in itself. I had a major headache.

And I started feeling nauseous.

So I decided that I needed to take a bath and soak. That usually curbs my gurgly tummy.

I got the water as hot as I could stand it, and laid down. There is something about a hot bath that relaxes me. And it relaxed the gas that was building up in my intestines. So I let it rip.

Of course, I giggled. Because you can’t let a huge fart in the bathtub without snickering. It’s impossible.

I laid in the tub and enjoyed the calm. I also love putting my head under the water so my ears are submerged. With 4 other people in the house, 3 of them being kids, it provides some well deserved sound proofing.

Pretty soon, I heard the familiar statement that always happens while I am in the tub.

“Mom, I have to poo.”

The kids never have to poop until I am a sitting duck in the tub. And while shower curtains are fantastic for privacy, they do little to stop the toxic humid smells that emerge from the backside of the kids.

So sitting in the tub, hidden behind the curtain, I decided since one kid (who shall remain nameless) was dropping a bomb on me, I had eaten enough meat that day to fight back. So I did my best to work up a good stinker and pushed.

And it was quite a loud one too. Unfortunately, noise was not the only thing this fart produced.

So there I am, sitting in the water, with a not so solid floater of my own doing popping up to the surface. Suddenly, the situation was not as funny as I thought it would be.

Jumping up as fast as I could, I stood in the water. Then I realized I should have gotten up slowly, because the floater became floaterS and now the water was moving around. I was surrounded.

I started doing a not so elegant ballet, something akin to Swamp Lake… stepping over this one, moving away from that one- trapped because nameless child was still pooing joyfully on the toilet. There was singing from the other side of the curtain, people. Nameless child was taking their sweet time.

“Honey, Mama needs to get out of the tub. Do you think you could hand me the towel?”

“There’s not a towel in here.”

“Well, where is it?”

“(Other nameless child) took it into the living room to clean up spilled milk.”

DANG.

“Ok, well can you hurry please? And then go tell Daddy I need him to bring me a towel.”

“Kay.”

I had no choice but to stand there, dodging my own brown bullets, waiting for nameless child to finish. Pretty soon they finished up, and went into the living room. I assumed to get Dad or a towel. I assumed wrong.

So I decided I could do some of the yucky work while waiting for the towel. I took a cup and started playing “Catch the floater.” This was not a game I enjoyed however, because the second I was close to catching one, the more it would break apart. Finally, Matt brought in a towel, which I made sure was handed through the curtain, and I got out and dried off.

Then I decided the best course of action was to get the fish net we used for the possibly alive but definitely dead fish. And I started swishing the water again. This method did much better, but I still had to deal with emptying the net into the toilet.

Finally I got it as good as it was going to get, and let the water out. Then I took Clorox wipes and wiped down the tub. Then I grabbed antibacterial soap and scrubbed myself down in the shower. Which was cold, as I had used all the hot water enjoying my bath. Fantastic.

Today, the tummy is doing better, but I still am taking the sage advice of my facebook buddy Marilyn.

“Never trust a fart.”

It ain't over till THIS GIRL SINGS!

(Taken yesterday at the lame-o Renaissance fair.)

If you, in the fall of 2008, had asked that girl...

“What are a few things you will never do, dieting wise?”

…she would have told you her laundry list.

“Attempt Yoga again.” (Did that)

“Walk 10 miles.” (Did that)

“Tell people my real weight.” (Did that)

“Show a picture of me at this weight in a swim suit.” (Did that)

“Do a low carb diet.” (Gonna do that.)

WWWWWHHHHHAAAAAATTTTTTTTT???

Yep. As much as I love my weight watchers, and have been successful with it for the first half of my journey, I am ready for a change. My body is ready for a change. And the low carb solution is exactly what I need.

Steak, hamburgers, real butter, olive oil, cheese, asparagus, eggs, big salads… I could live on these items anyway. And now, they are going to be the key to jumpstart my metabolism and lose weight.

To make things very clear, my public declaration of the evils of low carb come from an emotional stand. I had a very bad life situation at the time I tried this diet plan. I was worn out, pregnant, and in a bad relationship. And I had the low carb way of life shoved down my throat.

But: the Charlie I am today can handle it. Because THIS Charlie...

...Is arming herself with a do or diet attitude. This Charlie, who has braved the waters of weight loss for over a year and a half, is going to have eggs and bacon for breakfast without guilt. This girl is going to eat a hamburger without having a heart attack.

And this girl is going to make a music video about it. I did a demo run this weekend (when I was not warmed up, nor awake to capacity) and it was cracking me up. So this week I’m off to the studios to record (fully awake of course) and then off to shoot what I can only hope will be a video to rival Weird Al. We shall see. But here’s a sneak peek…

Finally, my high school buddy Shari is going to hook me up with the “Insanity” program. I’ve been toying with the idea for several months now, and decided it was now or never. If I want the most bang for my dieting buck, I need to start hitting this thing biggest loser style. Not working out 8 hours a day, but really pushing my body to its limits. I wanna find out what I am made of. Hopefully, it’s not moosh. I’m suspecting there’s a rockhard plus size supermodel in there somewhere, screaming to get out. But as the old saying goes, I was usually able to shut her up with cookies.

Well, no more.

So this means some big changes are in store for me. But as far as today goes, I am excited to go back to the old lady water aerobics class and get some exercise in. And my weight? I don’t know.

My back up scale weighs me at least a pound heavier than the usual scale. So I have boycotted the scale for this week. I’m just going to eat what I’m supposed to and work out like I’m supposed to. And we will see where I stand by the weekend. The suspense should be palpable.

What are YOU doing this week to get your diet kick started???

Recycling Scales

So today I can tell you that Matt has been gone ALL WEEK! He went to North Carolina on a work trip, and I have been here with the kids by my lonesome. Sniff sniff. Half my heart has been missing all week! The other half wanted to go to the pool at the Y. And it was closed this week for maintenance. Charlie has had no heart this week. No wonder I've been such a mouthy mess!

And I was so excited to weigh in and tell you how good I did on the scale. But I think it's wrong. It weighed me at 732 pounds.

Yep, I have broken another one. I even changed the funky size battery, and got bupkiss. I shudder a little at the thought of buying yet ANOTHER new scale. I am currently on #4.

In the interest of saving myself some time today, (Reduce, reuse, recycle) I thought I would introduce the new readers to an oldie but goody- one of my favorite stories about scales. It was back in the beginning when I was 217 pounds. So imagine a well rounded girl huffing and puffing through this story.

Here it is for your Friday entertainment:

How I burned 400 calories buying a scale...

Today was my official online weigh in day. It did not go well. I got on the scale this morning, my heart pounding, and wild with anticipation that I was going to magically drop 40 pounds in a week. What I got was the surprise of my life.

I GAINED 2 POUNDS!!! Surely that wasn’t right! I had followed the plan to a T, and hadn’t cheated once! Something is amiss! Hold on, was my scale in same spot on the floor as the last time? Maybe not. So I scooted the scale over. Now I was only up one pound. I scooted it another 5 inches. Now I had lost 3. What the heck is going on?

I decided it was high time to purchase a new scale. Perhaps a digital one, so the verdict wouldn’t be open for interpretation. With my faith in the diet progress partially restored, I began the preparations to head to Wally-world. And preparation it takes.

First of all, the weather is currently at 0. That is before you tack on the wind chill. When you add (or subtract) that in, it is a whopping –15 below. It’s butt freezing cold. This means I have to bundle up. In pairs. 2 pair of gloves, 2 hats, 2 sweatshirts, 2 pairs of socks. And even though I had all the extra padding on, I decided at the last minute to throw on a bra. For good measure.

Next on the list of preparation, is the 98 Windstar van, whom I have not-so-affectionately christened Neve. Her full name is Neve R. Working, but I often refer to her by other names (which are unfitting for a preacher-in-training to repeat). Neve has a laundry list of problems that may arise at any given moment. Her most recent issue has been somewhat of an emotional journey. Neve has recently proclaimed her sexual orientation to us. She only goes straight. Something is wrong with the power steering, and it takes brute force to make her veer to the left. Or the right. The past week I had to ice my elbow from attempting to driving her. Of course, they were already sore from the yoga incident, which didn’t help matters at all.

I know this vehicle isn't particularly safe, but then again, neither is letting me stew around the house wondering how much I weigh. All bundled up, I went outside to warm her up. I attempted to open the driver’s side door, but it was frozen shut. Undaunted, I pulled and pulled until I was almost out of breath. She was stuck tighter than my thighs in a pair of size B pantyhose. Finally, out of sheer frustration, I slammed my body against the door to break the invisible barrier.

Sometimes it’s handy to be overweight! The door popped open, and she started without a hitch.

I came back inside to throw on a little makeup. If I didn’t, I would see somebody I knew at the store and WISH I was wearing makeup. I ran a brush through my hair and put on a sock hat. Then another. My hair was static crazy, but the sock hats would hide it from the gazing eye of the public.

After waiting a few more minutes, I made a quick trip to the bathroom, kissed the hubby and kiddos goodbye, and hurried outside to begin my trek. Before actually driving anywhere, I had to put more power steering fluid in. Not taking a clue from the door, I assumed Neve would pop up her hood like usual, but the ice and freezing temperature made her too shy to reveal her motor. After attempting to pry and pull the hood open, I decided that my big butt could be used for more than material for blogging, and I jumped on the hood to smother Neve into submission.

However, there was ice on the hood, and I had on a slick jacket which covered my derriere. So as I sat down with gumption, there was an immediate loss of traction, and I slipped off the hood and landed on the brick street. My big butt thankfully broke the fall.

I eventually got the fluid in, and hurried back into the van. I cranked up the heat and headed out. 3 blocks later, I realized that I was still freezing. The heater was blowing cold, and there was nothing I could do. No matter! I kept on driving, shaking my head at the lunacy that is my life.
The steering wheel was stiff, but not too bad yet, and I made the first 3 turns with relative ease.

I got to Walmart just in time. I found a parking spot, close to the front, and attempted to gently guide Neve into it. She didn’t like that spot apparently, and refused to turn. I turned the wheel harder. Still nothing. Finally, I used so much force that Popeye would have been proud. Neve groaned and grunted, but was finally in agreement to park where I wanted to. It was at that moment the oil light came on.

Irritated, freezing, and irritated, I headed into Wal-mart for some retail therapy. I was determined to warm up and be happy, regardless of the Neve’s poor attitude. Plus now, I had to buy some oil. I reached down to pull out my list. If I don’t have my list, I will forget half the things I needed to get, and the hubby gave me a few extras to get, “since you are going.”Once in my pocket, I couldn’t find the list. I looked in the other pocket. Not there. I had on a hooded sweatshirt over my other sweatshirt, and it has a huge pocket. Not in there either. The list was at home on the computer desk. By this time, my tummy was feeling gurgly. But I knew I needed a scale, and that was top priority. So I decided to start with that and play the rest by ear.

Our Wal-mart had just undergone a facelift, and I didn’t know where some things were, but I knew where the scales should be- with the bathroom stuff. I hoofed it to the plumbing department, and searched for the holy grail…um…scale. It wasn’t there. So I looked in the exercise department. Still nothing. Boy, wearing my coat was a bad idea. I was getting hot! I took off my coat and gloves, and kept searching. Maybe it is with the small appliance stuff! That’s on the other side of the store. I pushed the cart over there, but still, my search was in vain. I was getting hotter by the second, and my tummy was having issues.

Shew-eee! I pulled off one of the sweatshirts and a sock hat, and kept looking. I tracked down an employee who took me right back to the plumbing department where I had started. The scales were right there. UG!

By this time, my stomach was more than gurgly. It was calling a 5 alarm emergency. I should know better than to eat so much broccoli! Leaving the employee behind with the scales, I said, “OK, thanks” as I ran with my cart down the aisle, heading for the bathroom. I made it to the bathroom in the back of the store, which was conveniently closed for cleaning. That meant I had to hurry to the front of the store. This time I ran steering the cart with one hand, holding my backside with the other in the vain attempt of keeping things together till I was safely in the bathroom. On my way, I noticed a towering display of scales in the middle of the main aisle.

I made it to the bathroom, but just barely. 5 minutes later, I was dripping buckets of sweat, and had to remove the sock hat that was hiding my static crazy hair. The sweatiness did little to tame my coif, and I looked like I had just finished touching one of those electromagnetic orbs. Meanwhile, I was soaked. I couldn’t tell if I was overheated because of the heat I had just produced, or because I was coming down with the flu.

I finally made it back to the plumbing department for a scale, cursing my plumbing the entire way, where I picked out something digital, cheap, and black. I assume that if black is slimming on me, I might weigh less on a black scale.

I then began the arduous task of remembering everything else on the list that was at home. Paper towels, toilet paper, garbage bags, etc. Once I thought I had everything on the list, I headed out to the check out. I had just put everything on the conveyer belt when I remembered. OIL! I proceeded to put everything back into the cart, headed to the automotive section, and picked up 2 quarts and a funnel. The funnel dropped out of the cart, and as I bent over, I realized the broccoli disaster wasn’t over yet. Leaving the funnel on the floor, I headed to the front of the store, only to discover that now THAT bathroom was being cleaned. I raced to the back…AGAIN…and made it to the bathroom.

I went back to auto, got my forgotten funnel, and remembered I was going to buy a measuring tape to measure myself. As if I wasn’t already miserable enough.

It was in the sewing department that I ran into a friend. She sweetly asked me how the diet was going. Me and my upright hair answered her, and we chatted for a minute or 2 while I tried to play it cool. I eventually made it to the check out, and back outside to needy Neve. I loaded up the groceries, and pulled out a roll of paper towels so I could check her oil the proper way.

I filled her with more power steering fluid, checked the oil, and low and behold, the oil was full and didn’t need refilling. I got back inside, muttering some not so nice things, started her up, and then gas light came on. Sigh. It was starting to feel ridiculous.

Now filled to the gaskets with gas, oil and power steering fluid, Neve and I made it home safely. I thought the adventure was over as I brought the groceries inside. I even smiled a little. At least I am getting good material for the blog, I thought to myself. Perking up now that I was home, I went out to get the last load. My hands were full, and I still had to shut the back of the van, so I put the paper towels in my teeth for a brief moment and slammed the hatch door closed. The door caught the corner of the paper towels, and because I had opened them earlier, 7 rolls went flying into the snow, under the van, and into the street. Sheesh.

I got inside after crawling on my belly in 15 below weather to find all the rolls, some of which were wet and ruined, and finally, it was all over. I had my new scale.I pulled it out of the packaging, stripped down buck naked in the dining room and weighed myself.

I really wasn’t surprised to find out that I weigh “Error.”

Charlie knows Jack, another Charlie, and Meet up Thursday #2

So, we have made it to Thursday again. Whatta week!

Today is meet up day, where we meet new dieting bloggy neighbors and friends... and in my infinite bloggy amazingness, I have YET to get a cool graphic with the embed code on it for the event. Feel free to create and send me one if you understand that HTML crap that I usually pay someone else to do. HTML is lost on me. Kinda like jogging...

My weight? Hold on, gonna go strip and pee one more time (and praying that the late night attack on a box of Pizza Rolls didn't hurt me too bad...) 182.8 and it could have been worse. I was STARVING, and that sounded dee-lish. So I had a little. No harm done, and I'm not freaking out. I'll just work it off today.

Next, I want to tell you a little about a few things before we "meet up" with some stories.

I have been corresponding with a few new bloggers. And you need to go check them out. Cause they are the rare boys out there in the dieting bloggy world. And that is brave. We chicks kinda dominate this racket.

First of all, is Jack Sh*t Gettin' Fit. If you haven't taken the time to check Jack out, and you have a sense of humor, then go look at the MASSIVE following this guy has. He's a big bloggy star. And his site, while often off color, is a riot! He's lost about 80, and that is something to sneeze at. Or nothing to sneeze at. I never got that turn of phrase anyway. So go check him out. He's a hoot!

Next is my new found kindred spirit, Charlie Hills at Back to the Fridge. Charlie found me a few weeks ago in the blogosphere, and it turns out he is an author of a few books. So I ordered one. And I read:

"Why your last diet failed you, and why this book won't help you on your next one"

This book is so funny, I practically peed my pants more involuntarily than I usually do! Go to Lockshire and get it, because this man has got to eat. But don't pay too much for it, cause he doesn't need a lot- he's on a diet. All I have to say about the book is this: This is the book I wanted to write for you all but haven't done yet. Without the issues of Mother Nature, of course. Yeah, folks, it's good. Really really good. And his blog "Back to the Fridge" is great too!

Now, we are moving on to Meet Ups. Today, I have the stories of 3 more women. I have NONE for next week, so please feel free to send them in at oscbb@yahoo.com and put "Meet up Thursday" in the subject line. Include a pic or 2, and use proper grammar so we all sound smart. If we can't be thin, we can be edge-u-mi-cated. Please check out their links and leave them comments of support and all the OSCBB love we share here!

And without further adieu, let's meet some new people!

ANGELA PEA - Keeping the Faith: SKINNY ME Edition (Angela Pea is on the right)

Back To School Night

I’m full of quirks, very opinionated, and I think that everyone should do things my way. Why? Because I am right 102% of the time, and have already thought through whatever it is that needs to be done, and I have already figured out the most efficient way to do it. And I know where the tools are, which is not in the toolbox where they belong.

I’m also very intelligent and well educated. I can carry on a decent conversation, speak comfortably in public, and can write a well-organized grammatically correct paper/article/technical paper without batting an eyelash. I design things, and when I drive around the Metroplex, I see things, BIG things, that I’ve had a hand in bringing to life. Convention Center? Yeah, that was me taking care of all the utilities and that spiffy courtyard with drivable pavers. Nature Center? Me again with the permeable pavement that directs rainwater to the planting areas. Airport? Uh, yeah. I’m responsible for two of those runways, as well as the FedX facility and the ginormous parking apron where your airplane sits in the wintertime for deicing.

So…why do I completely fall apart when faced with Back To School Night? Why am I totally freaked out, yelling at my dear husband on the phone when he calls to tell me that he has some sort of emergency at his office that involves classified information, congressmen and a bazillion dollars worth of fancy airplanes with guns and that I will have to wing it alone?? Why? Why does my otherwise confident and capable self just totally implode?

Because I had to go to Back To School Night and face those other mothers. The mothers who are skinny. The Moms who spend their days at the gym and the tennis court or lounging by the crystal pool in their back yard or at the country club. (Yeah, we still have them around here.) The pampered, adored wives with tans, sporting beautiful nail extensions, perfectly highlighted hair, spiffy clothes and who are driving luxury cars. These are the movers and the shakers, the ones who chair all of the committees, head up the fundraising and who prepare the teacher luncheons. These are women who have the luxury of being able to take care of themselves.

Jealous much? Just a little bit. But now I’m thinking. Why do I think taking care of myself is a luxury? Why do I think that being skinny and pretty equates to happiness? Why do I look at the world with lenses that only focus on the physical beauty and find myself inadequate? Why can’t I appreciate the amazing things I’ve done, the wonderful creation that I am? Because I’m a fool. Because this is a battle that I fight with myself every single day.

Most days I win (lots of prayer and armored with God’s Grace) but every now and then I don’t. Like on Back To School Night.

Angela emails me a lot, I email her back a lot, and I really appreciate her honesty and willingness to hold me accountable. I know I can count on my Angela Pea! She's GREAT!

Next up is Lauren at Life of LT!!!! (She's adorable!)

My story? Interesting you should ask. Because, well, it's been a roller coaster to say the least. My weight, like my life, goes up and down and twists and turns. I'm a classic case of having always been overweight and always, always struggled/struggling with it. And as a result I've always had self-esteem issues. All of the women in my family are overweight. All of us are emotional eaters. My mom used to joke about overeaters anonymous - I thought this was a fake group. Not so. It wasn't until my counselor suggested I attend a meeting that I realized these were real life people. Emotional eating is a real life problem. And for me, I literally eat for every emotion I feel! They follow the 12 steps of AA. However, I just didn't get much out of the meetings. It's like everything I've tried has failed. Well really, it's me that hasn't stuck to any program. And here I am, about to turn 27, and I have spent all of my twenties overweight. Isn't this supposed to be a fun part of my life?

And here's what I blame it on (over the course of the past 6 years):
Major, major financial problems.
Moving 6 times
The unexpected death of my mother
My grandfather's death a year later
Hubby's multiple job loss
Family drama
Stress
Infertility
The demons in my head telling me I'm not good enough to be any better. Ok, now that just sounds like I need an exorcism. Just couldn't find a better way to put it!
I thought for sure that my self esteem issues would change once I became an adult, but frankly, it's only gotten worse. I find that I hate meeting new people for fear of what they would think of me because I'm overweight. This is soooo not my personality - I've always been a people person. But lately, there's just too much anxiety. My hubby is overweight too and I really get anxious when we go out together - like people are saying "look at that fat family", etc. I feel like my family judges me. My coworkers. My church. I feel like it makes me less marketable as a photographer. So, so many issues. And deep down I know about 85% of it is all in my head.
Why do I do this?
I constantly fight with myself on this.
Before we know it, I'll never leave the house.
And I desperately do not want to get to that point.

Steps to Freedom:

So lately, I've really been trying to re-organize my life to ensure that I pave the way for change. And a few major meltdowns later, I feel like I'm on the right track. I've found that cutting things out a little at a time seems to work the best so far. I'm a week and a half into a no sugar diet. I'm 3 days into no fried foods. And I don't really miss any of it. I'm also exercising - at a slow pace to start, but at least I'm moving! And in addition to all that, I am completely inspired by your blog and the relief that there is someone else out there struggling with my very same struggles.

There are so many things I want for this life. I feel trapped by my weight - like it's a ball and chain. It's time to loosen the chains and break free. It's time for a new tomorrow.

-- Lauren T

"I will give thanks to the LORD because of his righteousness and will sing praise to the name of the LORD Most High" ~Psalm 7:17

And finally, the woman who got me to give up Domino's bread bowl pastas (which was no small feat, and required serious tough love), the one and only:

LISA B. - no weight loss blog, but anyone who wants to follow my journey on FB can send a friend request with "OSCBB / WW" in the friend request message http://www.facebook.com/megaptera1969

I hit the big 4-0 in Dec 2009, and with my being vertically challenged at 5 feet and NO inches, I have been packing an extra 50-70+ lbs of weight over the healthy weight range for my height for almost my entire adult life.

I had a near fatal car accident in July 2008 which was life changing in itself, and hitting forty really made me realize, if I don't choose to make a change to get healthy now, I put myself at increased risk of heart attack, high blood pressure, diabetes, higher health insurance premiums, and so much more.

My parents are in their 70s, go to the gym regularly, look like they are in their 50s, and are still out water skiing, snow skiing, and traveling the world. I want to feel and look that good when I am in my 70s, so what was I going to do to change my future?

I have NEVER had will power before, but I never felt a need to really change my life before. I felt fine with my body the way it was, as it had always been that way. I had done Weight Watchers for a time in my 20s or 30s, but I had never set or gotten to goal weight. I think the lowest I ever achieved was somewhere in the 150s.

The monthly pass program is such a better deal. Weight Watchers used to cost $15 a week just for weigh ins and weekly meetings which would be $780 a year. Now, they offer a $39.95 monthly pass, so for only $480 a year, I get the weekly weigh ins and meetings, and I get access to their online tools which allow me to track every bite I eat and drink and every minute of activity I get in a day. There is also a huge database of online recipes and community message boards and online challenges.

I really wasn't eating foods that were bad for me too often before starting Weight Watchers, but I was eating portions that were far too large. With the WW system of calculating points, it is so easy to know before a meal how many points I can eat and what the foods are worth in points so I know how much to consume in advance.

I used to enjoy an occasional Dairy Queen chocolate chip cookie dough blizzard when I was on road trips, but now that I am aware the CCCD blizzard is more points than I should eat in an entire day, I have zero desire to eat one. I find alternatives to satisfy my CCCD craving, such as the Weight Watchers cookie dough sundae cup which is only 3 points. I can handle that and fulfill my CCCD cravings.

I am still very bad about making and following a commitment for additional exercise, but so far, I have been losing just by watching and tracking every single bite. It feels so good, and while I am still not obsessed with my looks, I love being able to fit into clothes that used to be too tight.

My motivation and will power don't really falter because I know with each pound I lose, I am becoming healthier and reducing my risk for so many diseases. I never use the word DIET because that implies so many negatives: (1) a temporary change, (2) restriction from many foods, and (3) the possibility of putting the weight back on once "goal" is reached. This is a permanent lifestyle change for me.

I put all of my weight loss journey out for public consumption on Facebook to share my weekly weigh in results, my before measurements and pictures, and progress pictures along the way. I am highly motivated having the weekly accountability to my online network. People have cheered my losses and offered words of advice to get through the weeks where I have done everything right but still gained weight.

I am grateful for blogs like Charlie's where those of us on this journey can relate to the ups and downs of the commitment to making a life long change, and increase our support network to help us along the way. If you are on this path, congratulations for having the courage to make a positive change in your life! If you are still contemplating whether to start your journey, there is no time like the present. You can do it, and you are not alone. We are here to help you reach for your goals!

I hope you have enjoyed meeting all the wonderful people that I have gotten to know. Want to be included in next week's edition of Meet Up Thursdays? Then send me your stories at oscbb@yahoo.com 'cause we can't WAIT to meet you!!!!!

This IS My Body...

As promised. My self expose.

The most painful 10 minutes were filming it. Or so I thought, until I spent an hour and a half editing it. That was even worse. (And you can thank me for cutting some of the really gross parts. Especially when I showed how my belly could swallow the freshly plucked bellybutton. That I left out with you in mind.)

Why did I do it?

For a couple of reasons.

A) I want every woman (and the few brave men that have stuck it out through the Diva Cup posts) out there struggling with weight to know that you are NORMAL. You are NEVER ALONE in this fight. Don't like your body? Neither do I. But most of all, I don't like that my fears and my emotions have held me back for so long.

B) I think we sometimes don't have a concept of what our bodies really look like in motion. And movement makes all the difference. I personally needed a reality check.

C) Flipping that switch. Remember?

So- there's no nudity, but you will see A LOT of the real me.

Kinda freaking out, because sometimes I wonder if I take this whole "Honesty in Dieting" policy too far.

Wondering through the process of video taping myself if this is going to be a disaster.

Wishing that I was showing you my "I reached my goal" video instead of my "stuck in limbo and desperate to change" video.

But this is my body. For everything it is, for everything it's not...

It's mine to have and mine to change. It's time to be brave and show the world that me and my body are ready for some hard work.

This IS my body.

Products I Want... or think I want!

So here we are, and it’s Tuesday already. What have I done?

Watched my portions. (Save an incident with pecans yesterday afternoon)

Moved around a little.

Caught another mouse.

Took the kids swimming.

Chickened out of filming the expose, due to the immediate need to pluck my bellybutton. SIGH…


Gained 2 pounds. (REALLY?? REALLY!!!!)


Sometimes, I really hate dieting. Othertimes (when I actually lose weight) I like it.

So, watching the season finale pt. 1 of “Dance Your A$$ Off” I saw 2 things I want.

The official DYAO Exercise DVD.


An EXERSPY.

Have you seen these little boogers yet? An arm band that basically tattles on you. It says how many calories you have burned, what you need to do to hit your goal, and probably tells the world if you cheated. I wonder if it beeps as you are lifting the oreo to your mouth? Anyway, I think I might need one of these. Just to be my Jimminy Cricket. Cause I can’t step on it to break it like I crush insects and my own goals. It’s too expensive.

Sometimes, I look at the products out there and just laugh. The shake weight (which I own), deal a meal, the ab glider, that ab shocking belt… then other times I look at the new technology out there and get excited. Things like the exerspy and BodyBugg.

Have any of you out there tried a great product that you love? (No diet pills, please.) Wanna share about it? I'm listening!

I'll leave the light on for ya'...

I won't deny the truth. The dieting switch has been off for a while. A PAINFULLY long time, as a matter of fact. Not hiding it, but certainly not enjoying talking about it.

And since it appears that I am not going to be a Hilton Hotel for a baby this month, I may as well diet. (I retook a test this morning. I had one last test to burn through, anyway. I was quite startled, in my first morning stupor, to hear it beep. I did not realize it was digital. I looked, and found I wasn't pregnant. However, my pee was a balmy 98.4 degrees...)

And thus, we start YET ANOTHER DAY ONE. But this time, I'm pulling out all the stops.

I'm not even kidding about that.

For starters, I got myself a new goal dress. I picked one that was void of Lycra, stretchy nylon, and the likes. I want no mercy. The last dress I got was a cute skull dress. And it stretched. It wasn't pretty, but it fit. THIS TIME, I got something fitted and tiny. In a size 10. I would have gone smaller, but I have to stuff my blessings in a cup somewhere. And size 6 dresses are not created with the saggy boobed slightly middle aged woman in mind. So I figured a 10 would keep me plenty occupied for the time being.

Next, tonight I am filming an expose on my actual body. No nudity, as I still have a shred of modesty and a few brain cells left. But I need to grasp what my body is. I need to see what I have to work on. (The obvious being tummy, arms, waist) But the truth is, I have no idea what they actually look like. My mirror lies to me. (The scale does not.) I am not going to do this out of poor self body image. It is only out of poor self image. Because I know what I can do if I set my mind to it. And while pictures are shockingly truthful a lot of times, a video- that captures jiggles and wiggles and flops- that should trip my trigger. And FAST. I might even attempt to put on the goal dress. It will make it that much more dramatic when it fits! (Shooting for Christmas)

Hanging around at 180, which is pretty good. I am aching to see 179 again. Then I will only be 10 pounds away from all I have gained over the last year. Funny how it takes forever to lose and no time at all to put back on!

Finally, I had a fruit fiesta at the produce section of Meijers. I happened to be in another town today, and got some of the fruits I love that our local stores don't carry. I am bound and determined to stay "clean" this week. And I'm going to do it one day at a time. One bite at a time. I'll be blogging every day this week, just for the accountability, since the YMCA pool is out of commission, and there will be no water aerobics. However, I have a crapton of exercise videos to keep me busy, a treadmill (somewhere under clothes mountain), and a washer and dryer that are one flight below me as we speak. I can bust through some calories just staying home. Or having a nervous breakdown about the upcoming expose tonight. Fear makes me sweat, and sweat is classified as working out. (In my book anyway!)

So there's the scoop. I am manually flipping my diet switch. I'm going to push it until it clicks, and I get the final leg of my journey done. I will do everything in my blogging power to help your switch flip too. Cause I don't like doing things alone. I have dieting codependency.

What things have flipped your switch? What do you think it WOULD take to get you motivated again?

Mousetrap

In order for you to understand the utter hilarity of this story, you MUST make sure you have read about the day Tim's fish died. It's not that I am being bossy, but it makes all the difference to appreciate this story you are about to read.

Now, do you remember that game from back in the 80's, Mousetrap?

You had to get all the pieces working in just the right way or you didn't catch the mouse. Let's just say that my house had a major throw back to the "Mousetrap" last night.

I am terrified of old fashioned mousetraps- the snappy kind. I'm petrified ever since one of them almost broke my fingers when the kids and I first moved into a house we affectionately called "The Diamond House." (There were plywood diamonds as a decorative detail on the front door.) I decided at the time, having children who were 3, 2, and 1 that conventional mousetraps were unsafe- even for Mama. So my Grandpa Bush introduced me to the wonders of sticky traps.

Non toxic and with no moving parts, I learned that sticky traps (or glue traps as some of you may call them) were wonderful at catching 4 legged vermin. I caught mouse after mouse, and my grandpa would dutifully come over every couple of days and put the caught mice into a bucket of water. (The man was a farmer. He had no love for rodents that ate his corn crops. No compassion, either. Now his dogs- that's a different story. They ate steak.)

While I no longer adhere (GROAN) to the bucket of water drowning method, since I am married, I simply let Matt take the glue trap with mouse attached outside and he deals with it. I don't ask, Matt doesn't tell.

So after the mouse hiding under my skillet last week, I knew there was a little critter in the kitchen. I had tried to pinpoint where Mousey was coming and going from. And yesterday afternoon I put 2 sticky traps in the places I figured, made sure they were small enough openings that Puppy (our cat) couldn't get to them, and waited.

I didn't have to wait too long...

About 11pm, Matt and I heard a HUGE ruckus in the kitchen. Such noise that at first we thought someone had broken in to our house. Matt, as the official "Noise Checker-outer" in our house, summoned his courage and peeked around the corner of the kitchen to see what was going on. (We are all still a little gun shy about strange noises since our night in the woods. I think coyotes are busting into the city to exact their revenge on us for screaming so much that night and scaring off any potential meals they would have had.)

He started laughing the second he saw what was making the ruckus, and reported back "It's just Pup. She's... wait... what IS that?"

At that moment, Puppy went bonkers. She dashed off to her litter box, knocked over her food bowl, and came tearing into the low lit living room. And in the dim light, I saw that somehow she had managed to get the glue trap stuck on her paw.

Matt, snickering to himself, started grabbing at Puppy to try and remove the trap. I, being the loving wife that I am, turned on the main light in the living room. And that was when Matt gave a hearty little shout. The trap he was reaching for on Puppy's paw also had a mouse attached to it. Fat little sucker, too.

Then came the Trap Tango- the delicate dance of a trap, a man, and a cat- with a mouse in the middle. Mousey could still move it's head a little, and was trying to gnaw the dickens out of Matt's fingers. And Matt was doing his best do get the stuck trap off poor Pup.

After 10 minutes of failed attempts, we decided that if we could hold the trap, we could cut Puppy's fur from the glue and remove her from her predicament. So that's what we did. I grabbed the trap and pulled it down as far as I could, and Matt delicately cut the fur, trying not to hurt Pup.

We finally got the trap off, and then of course Matt is making googley eyes at the mouse. He's a sucker for animals. I- on the other hand- lean towards the Grandpa Bush stand towards animals. I have killed many a mouse in my day. But if Matt wanted to dig little Mousey out of the glue without killing it first, he had the prerogative. He stepped outside with the trap for a few minutes and then came back inside. He looked a little green in the face, so I didn't ask. I was worried about getting the glue off of Puppy. Because she had begun to lick the glue on her paw, and how had a beard of glue on her chin. Her paw was also stuck to it.

I was gently trying to coax Puppy to let me try and remove the glue, and Puppy didn't trust me at all. It was obvious in her green eyes. She was MAD MAD PISSED MAD. And when she gets like this, it's game over. She will bite your fingers off if she has the chance. So I gave up and just watched her.

Matt took the enlightened man's approach. He googled. And he discovered that if you take peanut butter and rub it on the fur, the glue will come off. So he got the peanut butter, and I- knowing how MAD MAD PISSED MAD Puppy was, I suited up like a Sumo wrestler. I put a sweat shirt over my pajamas, then a bathrobe over my sweat shirt, then Matt's heaviest winter coat over that. I also found the matching gloves in the pocket. They are too big for me, but I had to deal with putting the peanut butter on Puppy anyway. I gave the gloves to Matt, gave him a towel, and we caught Puppy. He wrapped her up like a feisty burrito, and we began the Operation Peanut Butter.

I had the good sense to put my camera on record for this event. Enjoy.

Meetup Thursday #1

I probably should get a cool graphic thingy that links to my blog stating this is a portion of “Meetup Thursdays” like a proper blogger, but I didn’t think of that till just now. So we will just pretend for today and I’ll try to whip up something for next week.


And I am pleased to present to you the personal stories of our first 3 women. Remember, these are real women, just like us. Make your comments kind, and love the stuffings out of them just like you do with me!!! I'm just going to let each of these tales speak for themselves. And 2 of today’s girls have blogs, so check those out too!

Introducing…

Stephanie:

I am 20 years old and currently weigh around 100kg (depending on the day).









All my life I have struggled with constant taunts and remarks from so called friends, family and random people. Through primary school starting from grade 3 I started to gain weight, I hadnt changed the way I was eating but still seemed to get bigger. Most of the other kids were cruel (as we all know kids say some nasty things). I was called many a name and those names have followed me all the way into adulthood. It wasn’t just the children it was teachers too (the only teacher I liked called me a fatso and tried to make up for it with a merit award), friends parents (wouldn’t let me play with their children in case they ended up like me) and even family. My own father would call me fat. It hurt like crazy, I became depressed, lacked the confidence i needed to go out in public and didn’t spend time with anyone.

I thought going to high school might be a little different, but it didn’t change except the taunts got nastier. I was in a shell, depressed and never wanted to come out of my comfort zone. I tried going to university but was put down by adults (I thought it would have changed their attitudes). I quit going after I was sitting alone in the hallway on the phone to my bf (who has been extremely supportive through thick and thin) when another student walked past and said "hey baby can I have your number" and when I turned to see who it was he made the remark of "ew what a f—kn’ fat dog don’t look at me". It hurt so much that someone I didn’t even know could make a comment about me. I sank into a deeper depression and become suicidal.

Now at the age of 20 it still hurts me inside. I have no confidence to wear different clothes because I’m afraid of what people will say to me. I can’t look at photos that I am in because I am disgusted at what I see. I feel thin in my head but look huge in photos. It makes me feel sick. My self confidence has been shot down so many times I just don’t know how to get back up again. People will still make comments to this day about my weight. I have struggled through more diets than I can count. I have tried pills, shakes, Jenny Craig and just plain old exercise and no fatty food. Nothing is helping, I’ve been told my next option is to have lap banding. I am hoping I can improve on my confidence and make myself a better person.

That’s my story if it made any sense.Thanks for letting me share.

Up next is Lee-Bird. (Her blog is Prayer Gifts)



(I have actually MET Lee in person, last year at a conference. See? I'm strengthening actual relationships here!!!)




School is back in full swing for me. In fact, my students had a big social studies test today and will have a huge math midterm tomorrow.As a special education teacher, I find myself a tad secluded on testing days, for many of my students require small group testing and other accommodations.

Today, sequestered in the media center computer lab, I facilitated testing for students sharing their newfound knowledge of the U.S. Constitution. We the people...should have studied harder!Between telling about a dozen kids what the word "impacted" means and reminding ornery boys that they had no reason to be messing with the computer keyboards, I noticed an almost life-size poster of Amare Stoudemire tacked onto the door of the lab.

A star player for the Phoenix Suns, the poster advertises Amare's dependence on milk to keep him in tip-top, ball-dunkin' shape.The poster includes a handprint, actual size, that dwarfs the hands of curious junior highers who take the time to hold their hands up against it.At the bottom of the glossy picture is a shoeprint of Amare's size-17 basketball shoes. Do you think he has ever tripped over those monsters?

Now here is where the ugly truth comes in...The poster graciously shares Amare's "dimensions."

Amare Stoudemire: Height: 6'10", Weight: 245 pounds

Sigh.....blush....groan

Lee: Height: 5'6.5", Weight 243 pounds

I WEIGH ALMOST AS MUCH AS A PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE MORE THAN A FOOT TALLER THAN ME!!!!

I remember having a similar rude revelation when I was nine months pregnant with my first son, Garrett, and heard some football player's "dimensions" on TV...it was bad then, but it's WAY WORSE now! My last baby was born almost 11 years ago, and I weigh the same as I did when I delivered my first baby.

Something MUST be done, and I am the one who has to do it!I MUST get this weight off. No more excuses and no more procrastination.I would be debt-free if I still had all the money I've invested in diet books, diet pills, and check-out stand magazines promising my belly fat will melt away while I sleep. I don't need another diet book.

I need to cut back on the CRAP food and get active.I need to drastically decrease my consumption of empty liquid calories and increase my water intake. I need to deny my spoiled-rotten cravings and make better choices for myself for my good and for God's glory.

Help me out, bloggy friends...by praying for me and by giving me your best tips to making positive health choices. For now, I'm taking my Amare-sized body upstairs to bed!



And finally for this week- bloggy designer extraordinaire- Jessica: (and Jessica, I totally apologize because I couldn't figure out how to get your other adorable picture onto piece o' crap Blogger. Feel free to send it in another email with just the pic and I will add it.)

My name is Jessica, I’m 19 years old, and I’m a foodaholic.

There has never been a time in my life where I have been thin. And to make matters worse, my two younger sisters are tall, athletic young women who have never struggled with their weight. Growing up, I was always so embarrassed and ashamed of myself for being the “fat sister.” Friends and relatives would rave about my sisters’ athletic abilities, only to pause and look at me to say “…and you’re the artistic one!” That’s not a consolation prize.

I entered high school at age 14 weighing about 160 at 5’2”. Because of the insecurities I had about my weight, I isolated myself from social situations whenever possible and threw myself many a pity party where I would eat my feelings instead of dealing with them. Because of this routine, I packed on a whopping 30 lbs in high school – the worst part is I was only vaguely aware of it happening. It wasn’t until I compared my school photos side-by-side that I came to the shocking and horrifying realization of just how out of control my weight had gotten.

It took a photo from a family vacation the summer of my junior year to hit rock bottom.

Yeah, I’m the one looking uncomfortable in my own skin. When I saw this photo, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.


My senior year, I decided to do something about it. I joined Weight Watchers. I fought a battle of epic proportions with the scale, riding an emotional roller coaster as the number bounced up and down each week. And after 8 months, I went from weighing 190 to 162. I was getting compliments regularly about how great I looked and my friends noticed a big change in the way I carried myself.


At that point, I had little to no gut to speak of, a much thinner face, and proof that I actually had a neck and collar bone. I had maybe 25 more pounds to lose, but I was definitely feeling good about myself.

…Then came my downfall: the !@#$ing holidays. Not only did I fall off the wagon, I catapulted myself off of it. Each week at weigh-in, I became more and more disgusted with myself as the number on the scale crept ever higher. I stopped going all together when I hit 167.

Fast forward through a year’s worth of “oh, I’ll start dieting again on Monday. I’ll start on the 1st of the month. After my vacation.” You name the excuse to put it off, and I used it.

That would bring us to present day. I procrastinated myself all the way to 190 – right back where I started. I could kick myself for not only quitting when I had made so much progress, but putting it all back on just as quickly as it came off.

In an attempt to keep myself accountable, I started a blog back in April at The Skinny on my Weight-loss at 177 lbs. Did that stop me from putting on 13 lbs in the following 4 months? No. Is it even possible to put on 13 lbs in 4 months? Apparently.

Luckily, I’m slowly on the decline. My highest weight recently was 190.6. I’ve gotten down to 185, and I spend a LOT of time in between.

Looking back I could kick myself for throwing my whole diet out the window when I was up a measly 5 lbs, when I had already lost nearly 30. But I did learn a life lesson from it: I will inevitably struggle with my weight my whole life, and I will be that much stronger having learned to deal with this issue so early on.

Despite my frustrations along the way, however big they may seem at the time, I refuse to let myself give up again. I have to keep pressing forward - day by day; little by little. There will be many blunders along the way, and I’m sure some days I will fall flat on my ass. The only thing to do will be to pick myself up and keep on trekkin.’

I am officially rejoining Weight Watchers this week, so this self evaluation could not come at a better time. I can’t promise you I’ll get better at blogging, but I promise to update you on my successes and failures every once and a while along the way.

The best of luck to those of you trekkin’ along with me! Your stories inspire me to do better.



What strikes me the most about each of these girls is that I can relate to something within each of their stories. There is a chord that rings true in every word they say. I hope these stories unite us in a new way as companions on this journey to lose the fat, and that we all form new friendships today!

Charlie meets Charlie

First of all, I want to thank you all for the avalanche of comments, emails and facebook messages that made my inbox explode. The support found here is beyond words. Thank you all for your tender letters and prayers. Even though it wasn’t a bonafide loss, but rather a major disappointment- your concern and compassion was extraordinary. Again, thank you.

Next, I have got to share something very very very diety with you. Today, my mailman delivered an impulse purchase from my Amazon cart. (Stupid one-click buying) It’s a book by Australian born author Shauna Reid. “The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl.”

To be frank with you all, as I pulled it out of the packaging and took my first look at it I was quite shocked to see it was a beefy 400 pages. I started to read at 2pm. By 8:30pm I had finished the book and was composing a letter to Shauna in my head. Also, I was resisting the urge to go back through the book with a highlighter and color the pertinent parts.

This book spans the entire length of her 350 pound to 175 pound journey, and it is nothing short of remarkable, inspiring, and downright funny. She is quick with the profanities, abundant with the word “crap” (which secures her place in my heart as kindred spirit/hero) and her honesty is gut wrenching- pun intended. And I felt as though I was looking through my own personal journal if I had been born on the other side of the world.

No matter where we are from, the language of the fat chick is universal. We shudder at the same things (airplane seats, café chairs, full length mirrors) and use the same excuses (I’m too fat to …fill in your blank…). We also struggle to see ourselves for who we really are behind and underneath the fat. My goodness, how my head nodded in agreement over and over again while reading her book. So much that my neck has a kink.

And it got me to thinking (which we all know means some wacky illustration is brewing).

What things in my life have I avoided doing because I thought I was too fat?

Not just the little things, like wearing a bikini. You would have to be half off your rocker to WANT to prance around in the little bits of floss they call a bikini these days. I’m talking about the big stuff. The stuff that when I think about it I snicker because it’s so ridiculous to even THINK it, let alone try it for real.

I want to be in a movie. And not as the fat friend.

I want to get married again (same husband) in a stunning dress that makes Matt faint.

I want to sit in the box seats at the Opera and not fear for the lives of those sitting under the box.

I want to get up on a stage and talk to women about life, faith, motherhood, and dieting without being afraid that they can see my backfat rolls from the nosebleed sections.

I want to learn the tango.

I want to be a real published author who isn’t afraid of rejection.

After reading Shauna’s book, I realized something brazen that I had never considered before. I use my current bodyshape as reasons not to reach out for my crazy dreams. But it’s not the fat that is holding me back.

It’s the ME that is underneath the blubber.

I stop myself short of achieving lots of things. I don’t give my best to dieting because I know eventually the new found courage will wear off and I’ll be diving into a package of double stuffed oreos and eating all 3 rows. WHY do I condemn myself before I have even tried?

I don’t dance because I consider myself clumsy and uncoordinated. That has nothing to do with being plump. I will still trip over my own feet when I am skinny. And the contestants on Dance Your a$$ off seem to not care about their size. WHY don’t I dance?

Just because I am a big girl doesn’t mean that I don’t have something encouraging and funny to say to 1000 women. To make gals laugh and feel better. And lots of them have fat rolls too. WHY don’t I speak?

Matt is completely and utterly smitten with me. (No idea why, but I’ll take it.) And I am over the moon for him. WHY do I assume I can’t take his breath away just as I am?

I’m not trying to fill this post with a bunch of psycho babble and introspective crap. My point is that I have blamed the fat all along, when it was Charlie inside who had the real problems.
Real insecurities, paralyzing fears, more phobias than a 4th year psychology textbook.

So what would happen if I stopped blaming the fat for my shortcomings and cowboyed up to the table? What would happen then?

If I stopped acting like the fat was the root of all my problems, could I start being the person I know is fighting to get out?

Can I stop obsessing about the scale? Can I stop the mental self flagellation everytime I eat a bowl of ice cream? Can I live life like it was meant to be lived if I just start living it?

Maybe it was this brush with being knocked up that has changed my perspective on things.

Maybe I realize that disappointments are never going to end- regardless of how positive I am about them- so perhaps the best thing is to put yourself out there for the world to see. They can love me or leave me. And having met the world, they will most likely do a little of both. But I can know that I experienced ever joy and every sorrow there was to experience. And that sounds like a refreshing change. I need to stop fearing the unknowns and start experiencing them.

Here’s my point. I spend hours obsessing about this blog. I hide behind my computer screen and spout out nuggets of wisdom, tell funny stories, and pour my heart out. But when it comes to interacting with others, I don’t do so good on the face to face stuff. I love the virtual relationships I have formed with many of you! These relationships mean so much! But if I met you face to face, I am sorry to say that I am NOTHING like my online persona. I get nervous. I get tongue tied. My jokes are hit and miss, with a 40% average of being worth even saying. Here on my computer, I can obsess about how each word sounds, how the sentence reads, what my message becomes. You can’t do that in real life. Not unless you memorize a script.

And I want to change. With all my heart. I want to be as outgoing as I sound. I want to talk to women face to face and learn their stories. While I can’t rack up frequent flyer miles seeing each one of you, I want to know more about you. So here’s the plan.

MEET UP THURSDAYS

Every Thursday, I will post the stories of 3 women (if I even get that many stories). I want you to share about your struggles with dieting, with being confident, with being yourself- whatever the reason is you keep reading this blog. If you have a personal blog, I will link it. All I ask is that you send a picture of yourself with your story. (Please, though, send the story in with good grammar!) It doesn’t have to be a long piece, but it must be sincere. You don’t have to admit your weight or anything, but I will tell you there is a freedom in doing so- it’s like telling the biggest secret you have ever had to keep. But no pressure. This is going to be a first come, first serve kind of thing. So type fast!

Send your stories and pics to my email – oscbb@yahoo.com and in the subject line put “MEET UP THURSDAYS” so I know it’s something you want shared with my readers. Ooooh, this is making me giddy with excitement! Not to mention nervous as heck- nervous that no one sends in their stories and I will be left with a blogpost to write on Thursday.

So there it is: My feeble attempt to reach out from behind the computer screen and socialize. I’m changing things up in my life. I’m going to start living. And I’m dragging you with me. Cause that’s how I roll.

Speaking of rolls, I am at 182.6- not bad considering I have been moping on the couch since last Thursday! But tomorrow, it’s back to water aerobics and healthy eating. No more pizza and ice cream this week. I’m going to be too busy becoming the woman I’m supposed to be. I can’t wait to meet myself!

AND…I can’t wait to hear your stories!