A Letter to MOTIVATION

Dear Motivation-

(I apologize to you readers that I write so many letters to people and inanimate things. I do have a habit of it…Note to self, Mother Nature...but it really makes sense to me to write letters and put things out there. Helps me travel emotionally and leads me to breakdowns…I meant breakthroughs!!!! Ahem, I better start over.)

Dear Motivation-

Hi there, old friend. I know that you will read this when you get back, because I think you are on vacation. Ever since I got the flu a few weeks ago, you have been mysteriously absent in my life. While this was not a pre-approved vacation, I do understand. You have been working overtime for a year, putting in extra hours, standing strong in the face of French fries, sweating bullets when it should have been your day off… you’ve done a fantastic job this year. Bravo!

So I know that you needed a break. But it seems that we are right on the cusp of a break through, and I don’t think that now is the best time for you to slack off! I mean, Thanksgiving is in a few days. I know that most people will be taking a holiday then, and you deserve that day above anyone else. But here’s the thing. That is the hardest day for me. And I will need you. Because that’s when all the yummy food comes to the table and I find myself going back for seconds. And thirds. And dessert. Heaven help me, the desserts…

But in all seriousness, we have some huge hurdles to overcome in the next month. I would like to say that I ended the year at a 73 pound loss. And that means that I have got to shed a few more pounds. 73 pounds will put me midway in the land of 160’s, a land I have not seen in years. I know that once the new year arrives, I’ll be all gung ho again (simply the nature of this beast) but we have got to get moving on getting to 165. Just 6 more pounds. I am so close that I can feel it! But could we really drop 6 pounds during the holiday season?

I think that we better come prepared. And there is only one cure I know of for this predicament. Thanksgiving and Christmas. The NIBBLE holidays. The time of year people set out cookies and junk food and stuff that adds up quick. In order to make your job easier, Motivation, I will take some precautionary steps.

We are bringing our own plate to the party.

Yep. Forget the oversized platters, the chinets that are good for more than one round thru the buffet, and grandma’s special turkey plates that are 3 feet in diamater.

I am bringing a kiddie plate.

Not only is it a kiddie plate, but it is one with dividers. Yeah, that should help.

The largest portion will have any veggies that aren’t terribly overloaded with butter, cheese or extras.

The medium size portion will be for a small sampling of each of the goodies that I don’t normally get. Like green bean casserole. And mashed potatoes covered with noodles. And other fun stuff that might pop up. If I only use the medium divided section for those things, and I have to fit it ALL in that section, then that will only give me a small taste of each, and satiate any desire I may have for those high carb, low nutrition, yummy succulent dishes.

And the smallest portion of the plate will be saved for my protein of choice. Either ham or turkey. But not both. And only a serving.

The hardest part of this whole process is going to be this-

I WILL ONLY MAKE ONE (count ‘em- ONE) TRIP.

I will not go back for seconds. I will not get just one more bite. I will set the timer on my phone for 20 minutes after I have finished the allotted food on the kiddie plate, and wait before going to get some dessert. No matter how hard that will be. And no matter how much I want more on that little plate.

Truth be told, if I finish the small amount of food on the kiddie plate and wait, I will feel full. Not stuffed, but full. And I will be able to pass up 90% of the desserts offered.

As for the remaining 10% that I can’t resist?

Well, Motivation, I’m counting on you to help me stick to a small serving of sweets. So you have to come back to work. Sorry. But you had a nice break!

As for all the food that is perfect for grazing? If it ain't on the plate, it ain't going in my mouth. NO EXCEPTIONS. NONE. Unless it's naked veggies. Those are acceptable.

And once Thanksgiving is over, we are going to stick to this plan for the rest of the Holidays.

Cause we are going to hit 165 by New Year’s Eve. I pinkie promise.
Love-
Charlie

A Perfect 10

So today, I had to run to the store because Matt used the last of the coffee. And didn’t tell me we were out. Which would have been fine, except…….

I woke up this morning groggy and tired, so I reheated the leftover cuppa joe from yesterday by turning the coffee pot on, and sat down to answer an email or two while it warmed up.

Meanwhile, my darling husband woke up, went to the kitchen, saw the coffee pot was on, assumed that I had already gotten my coffee, and took the last cup that was warming up. (NOTE- He adds protein powder to his coffee. Bleeeeck!)

He sits down beside me on the couch with his steaming hot cup of coffee, takes a sip and smiles lovingly at me.

I look up and say “Was that the coffee I was warming up in the pot?”

M: “Uh,” (insert uncomfortable silence here) “maybe. I think so. You can have my cup.”

C: “Did you add protein powder to it?”

M: “Oh, gosh darn it, I did. Sorry!”

C: “That’s ok. I’ll just go make a fresh pot.”

M: “Well, I used the last of the coffee yesterday morning.”

C: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

M: “I forgot.”

C: “I see…..” (insert long uncomfortable silence here with me shooting daggers.)

M: “You can have my cup of coffee. It doesn’t taste that bad.”

C: “No thanks. I guess I’ll just run to the store.”

M: “Ok,” (insert nervous giggle here) “sorry about that babe.”


*Note the tone I shall try to convey with the phrase I say next. In your head it should sound disappointed, irritated, and with the inflection of responsibility for said disappointment and irritability. Also slightly perturbed with a heaping (empty coffee) cup full of highly annoyed.

C: “Mmmmm hmmmmm.”

Let me add that I am a PMSing monger right now.

(I got a new iphone for my job, and I downloaded an application that tells me when my next period will be. So you guys are no longer responsible for reading about it because I never remember to write it on the calendar. I now have an app for that. And unless something profoundly ridiculous happens, I won’t have to share. Except that I just did. So I suppose there is no harm in me sharing that I should be starting in 2 days. Which means that Matt is going to have a very long and frustrating 2 days. Cause I get CRANKY!!!!! )

OK, back to the story. I now had to go to the store. So I threw on a bra and shirt, and looked for a pair of jeans. And I found a pair that I had never seen before. Turns out my sister in law (Tricky Nikki) sent them home with my daughter this week for me to try. They were teeny tiny jeans. I looked at the size- it was a 9/10. I can get myself into an 11/12 no prob. But the 9/10s are still hit and miss. Sometimes they fit, sometimes they don’t even come close.

So I figured I’d at least try them on. If they didn’t fit, that would make me realize how wrong it was for me to eat a whole Butterfinger candy bar last night. (I even licked the wrapper. I think that’s why I didn’t realize till this morning that I was PMSey. Cause I ate and experienced the healing power of chocolate last night! Holy cow, it was divine!)

I pulled the jeans up one leg, and they got up past my calves and part of my thighs. Still had some room, so I inserted the other leg, and slowly pulled the jeans up over my hips. And thanks to the extremely pliable nature of my shrinking tummy, I moved some fat around to button the button fly.

And every dang button buttoned!!!

I was in complete shock! They actually fit! I mean not just “hey, look, I got these buttoned, and now I have to take them off before I pass out” but it was more like “hey, look, I got these buttoned and now I can walk and sit and breathe just like a real girl!”

What a great feeling. It helped the PMS decrease slightly. And I made Matt take pics so that I could remember this day forever. The day I didn’t have to wear a girdle to be a perfect 10. It totally made up for my severe PMS, lack of coffee, and unplanned trip to the store. (Where I bought coffee AND Midol.)

So here they are! My second pair of 9/10s that I can officially wear. In public. (As long as I lose the granny panties that cause horrible VPLs. Visible Panty Lines. I mean they are really bad. I guess I’ll be purchasing a thong for when I wear these jeans. Tricky Nikki will be so proud!!!)

See, I TOLD you they were bad! Although in my defense, they are VPLs in size 9/10 jeans, so I didn't care. I have no shame. Luckily, I do have long shirts.


And this was just to compare. I wrote to you about my size 26 jeans that I started in. I couldn't find them tonight, but I did find my 24W jean shorts. I just wanted to show them together so you can get an idea of the change that has happened and why I don't give 2 hoots about showing VPLs on a public domain like the blog. Check this out...

See? What a huge change! So today, grumpiness aside, I would have to say that over all, the day was a perfect 10.

The Turkey Trilogy

Today is the day that all my hard work and drama pays off. Today is Mary's Giving Up on a Perfect Thanksgiving. And the sole reason I made the Turkey tutorial. Next week, I will get back to talking about dieting and weight and all the usual stuff. But for today, it's all about Tom the Turkey for me.

So those of you who have linked over here from Mary's blog, you are probably interested in reading the Turkey Trilogy. Which are the 3 posts below. One is the Turkey Tutorial Video. The other 2 are well worth a read. Because stuff like that probably happens to you. I know that this is par for the course for me, but that's just fine. It's good blog fodder. So you can read the 3 posts below, in no particular order. Doesn't really matter, because it's all about the making of the Turkey Tutorial.

If you like what you are reading, make sure to become a follower, over there at the left, and come back for more. I hope you enjoy my Turkey Trilogy.

Best wishes for a Happy (and un-perfect) Thanksgiving-
Charlie

"Behind" the scenes of the Turkey Tutorial

For those of you who have come to Operation Shrink Charlie’s Big Butt to see the highly acclaimed Turkey Tutorial (stepping away from the computer momentarily to avoid the inevitable lightning strike…) let me warmly welcome you to the blog!!! I promise you that if you are on a diet, (or need to- but we don’t point fingers here) you will find OSCBB is a common gathering place for a world of dieters. Which is good, because we can’t meet at the donut shoppe anymore. Too risky.

Please explore and wander ‘round the new and improved site. (just got my blog did. Nice, huh? All the good looking credit goes to April Showers Blog Design. I would say that she is cheap and talented, but that wouldn’t be very polite!) The Turkey Tutorial is on the post below this one. But if you have a few minutes, stick around and keep reading this post. I vow on my evil scale that it’s a good and funny one.


For those of you who have been here for a while, and are now stalking me (*cough* April!) welcome back, and the post you are about to read is one you are sure to love. Classic Charlie moments below.

I want to tell you about behind the scenes of the Turkey Tutorial. You read about my Sunday preparing for the filming of my tutorial, which was a disaster. But what you don’t know is the painful torture I endured to present you with my pathetic (yet highly amusing) attempt at a cooking show. The drama of post production. Editing. The cherry on the fat free yogurt sundae. Spraying the hairspray on hair that hasn’t frizzed out yet. I hope you get it because I am stopping the analogies now.

Brace yourselves.

So Sunday evening, shortly after pulling the turkey out of the oven, my husband kindly offered to edit the video for me, since he’s the computer whiz with the theatre degree- and I accepted. Which was great. I had stuff to do. But when the video he pulled off our digital camera was not converting correctly so he could edit it (because our camera isn’t meant to be a camcorder but it works in a pinch), he got frustrated. And he got a headache. So he went to bed. And I REALLY wanted the tutorial to be done. (Turned out he had the flu and would be out of commission for the next 2 days.)

I decided that determination had worked for the diet, so it would work for editing stubborn video clips too! And I messed with it. And twiddled. And fiddled around with numerous programs promising to convert with ease. But nothing worked for 2 clips in particular… one was a commercial for the Proverbs 31 Girls Get Away Cruise and I really wanted a commercial break in the show. Before I knew it, it was 4am, and I still wasn’t done. Or even close. In fact, I was not one second closer to the finish line than I had been at 10:30 the previous night. So I laid on the couch for a moment to think. With my eyes closed.

Tap..tap…tap…

“Mom, are we going to school today? It starts in 10 minutes…”

My daughter Amy woke me up the second after she did. Mind you, my other 2, who were seen in the tutorial, had no intention of waking me up. They were too busy playing Club Penguin on the computers. I shot them dirty looks as I ran to the kitchen to see the time. 7:51am. School starts at 8.

CRAP.

The next 15 minutes were a flurry of activity. I pulled wrinkled uniforms out of the overflowing clothes hamper, found 6 random socks that didn’t feel “too crunchy” for wearing, counted out $5.25 in nickels for lunches since I didn’t have time to pack any, grabbed book bags to inspect for toys and ice cream (and there is a blog for another day to explain THAT!), signed agenda books, made sure kids had a granola bars and bananas to eat in the car, and made sure the girls brought a hairbrush for the drive to school. Also gave each of them a stick of gum to chew right after eating in the van. I shoved the kids out the door and grabbed my keys.

“Mom, you will have to take us inside and sign us in since we are so late. You can’t wear your robe and slippers!”

CRAP. CRAP.

(And yes, I have driven the kids to school before wearing that same outfit. I have no shame and I hate mornings)

SO- I grabbed sweatpants from the hamper, an exercise muscle shirt (no time for a bra), and a red zip up hoodie. (I love my sweatshirt- dit dit dit, my red hooded sweatshirt) (Sorry, I couldn't help myself!) I grabbed a generic plastic croc type shoe and looked for it’s mate. But to no avail. So I grabbed another generic croc type shoe. Both were right footed, one pink and one blue with rainbow swirls. I chucked a hat on my head and we all scrambled out the door and headed for school in the van. Oh, I should mention here that it is POURING DOWN RAIN.

If you are laughing at this point, I strongly suggest that you stop and take a quick moment to empty your bladder. You have had fair warning.

The time was 8:20 when we got to school, had parked, and the kids had all spit out their gum. The school doors were locked. As we waited outside in the rain to be buzzed in, I realized that the leg of my sweatpants was soaking wet from dragging on the ground. They are men’s sweatpants, and I am short. ‘Nuff said. I shook my leg to try and remove some of the moisture before I dripped all through the hallways of my children’s educational establishment.

We got inside and started walking towards the office. Apparently the previous shaking of my leg was just enough to launch the pair of yesterday's underwear (conveniently stored in the leg of my sweatpants) loose. They fell right out onto the floor as we entered the office. I quickly hit the deck, and tried to hide the bright blue panties in the pocket of my hoodie while laying down. I stood up and the secretary was looking at me kinda funny. Which could have been about anything, really…me dropping to the floor in her presence, the mismatched-both-right-footed shoes, the kids in wrinkled clothes, the crazy woman hair sticking out under from the hat, the pair of blue undies I thought were hidden but were really half hanging out of the pocket of my red jacket…take your pick. I was a disaster smorgasbord.

Finally the kids were signed in, and I slunk back to the van to go home where I belonged. Then I remembered that I needed to hit the bank and pick up cash to pay for the kids guitar lessons. Since the bank has a drive thru, and I was already on that side of town, well- why the heck not get it overwith?

The very nice lady at the bank offered me a free calendar. I said sure, and she showed me the options. There were two that weren’t hideous, and without coffee coursing through my veins, I was powerless to make a decision.

She smiled and whispered, “You can have two, hon!”

“Thanks! You are making my horrible Monday a little less horrible.”

“You are having a bad day? Why is that?”

(And I really did this. This is not an exaggeration in the slightest.)

I reached down, pulled off my mismatching generic "just right" crocs, and held them up for her to see. She started laughing. And I quickly gave her my schpeel about the day’s events and she took pity and I took her pity.

“I think you might need 3 calendars instead of 2 today.”

As I began to pull away, she called out, “Be thankful, it could be worse!!!”

I smiled back and said, “Good point!”

And I was genuinely thankful that things weren’t worse than they already were.

I got home without any more collateral damage, grabbed a Special K protein shake and a thermos of coffee, and set out to at least edit the video clips I could start with. My tummy was a mess, but I figured all the stress was giving me thunder down under. Not to mention I was starving. So I sucked down both the shake and coffee, and set about my editing task.

About the 3rd time that my computer locked up and crashed and I lost all the work I had done in triplicate, to say I was on edge was an understatement. And my tummy kept cramping. I thought that maybe if I simply passed a little wind, I would feel better.

So I tooted. There in my comfy computer chair (that reclines, thank you very much!) I just let one little stinker. And I felt better. But it smelled bad. We are talking “put a frat boy to shame” bad. And it kept getting stronger. And STRONGER. Then I realized I was experiencing a little extra humidity in the south regions. Yep. It was not just a fart. I had - how to put this delicately? Pooped my pants. Yes, that's pretty delicate. And it had leaked onto the upholstered computer chair.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(NO POINTING FINGERS. EVERYONE HAS DONE IT BEFORE!!!!!!!!)

Add an extra load of laundry to an already great day. Plus I had to clean the chair.

In total, it took me about 15 hours to get all the editing done, and it was frustrating as all get out.

But the end result was totally worth it. (although I could have lived without the pants pooping part.)

So to validate all the work, drama and (quite literally) crap I went through to get the Turkey Tutorial to you, would you be a friend and forward it to everyone you know? Maybe tell them it will make their day or make them smile? Because that would ease the pain and suffering. A little.

Who knew that this video would be such a stinker???

THE TURKEY TUTORIAL

I know that the size may make my commentaries (aka smart alec remarks about myself) hard to read. The end should be fine, so I just posted the first part on Youtube, and then search for Charliegirl2490.

Have fun watching my Turkey Tutorial!!! Then go check out Giving Up on Perfect as my bloggy friend Mary prepares to "Give Up on a Perfect Thanksgiving!"

(And the video quality is not great. Can you imagine the fun I could have with an HD video camera? Santa, please leave THAT under my tree!!!)

Trashy Turkey Talk

OK, the perfect turkey video is now in the throws of editing and should be done Monday night sometime.

The turkey is made and it is DEELISH!!!!

But behind the scenes of the "Turkey Tutorial", things were not exactly going my way. At all.

Besides the fact that I didn't have time to write out and memorize a script (so I am winging it the whole way. And you can totally tell) I realized from the moment I purchased the bird that the odds were against me.

I was looking for a 15 pound turkey. Apparently that is a very popular size by way of Thanksgiving, because I couldn't find one. Searched 2 different stores, and I finally gave up and got a 12 pounder. A little puny, but it would have to do.

While purchasing the bird, I found these nifty turkey flippers that help support the turkey while lifting it up. Last year I almost scalded my hand off, so I decided the flippers were a wise investment indeed.

But when I got home, they were no where to be found. I left them at walmart. Or lost them on the way home. I have no clue where they went!

Then, being home, I got bra-less and in my comfy pants, when I realized that I had forgotten to purchase honey for my recipe. So I put off the tutorial recording from Saturday to Sunday. The family was bummed out, but they still knew they were getting a turkey soon, so they eventually settled down.

I went back to the store to purchase honey Sunday afternoon, and got everything lined up for filming. Except there was one problem. I had forgotten to pick up a disposable roasting pan. SHOOT!!!!!

Trip number 3 to the store, and of course it was raining. I had already done my hair and makeup, so the rain gave my makeup an "Alice Cooper" effect. It also gave my hair a "North Carolina in August fighting severe humidity" effect. Trying to save the last strands of hope for my hair and makeup, I ran across the parking lot in the pouring rain.

And that was when I heard something drop.

My phone. In a puddle. In 2 parts.

I bent down to pick it up, and the car that wasn't paying attention (because she was talking on her whole dry phone) screeched to a halt just moments before crushing me.

I ran into the store, mumbling, and desperately tried to put Humpty Dumpty back together while simultaneously wiping the eyeliner from my chin, which was the resting place for my soggy hair do. Or hair don't as it were. I admitted defeat, shoved the pieces in my pocket, and shopped.

I picked up the stuff I needed and started driving home. The cell phone store was on the way, so I pulled in for a minute to see if they could fix it or give me a loaner or something. I can't function without Jesus and my phone. I laid my phone on the counter and this was the conversation that followed.

Me: I broke my phone. Can you fix it?

Her (shaking the phone and a cup of water pours out): You broke your phone.

Me: I know. Can you fix it?

Her: What happened???

Me: I broke my phone.

Her: Wow, you really broke your phone.

Me (through clenched teeth): Yes. I DID. CAN YOU FIX IT?

Her: I don't know. Hey Sonja, this girl needs help.

Sonja: What happened?

Me: I BROKE MY PHONE.

Her: She broke her phone.

Sonja (coming over to inspect, shaking it and water pouring out again): Huh, you really broke your phone.

Me: Thank you. It took special training to break it like this. I'm that good.

Sonja: Hey Cliff, this girl needs your help!

Cliff: What happened?

Sonja: She broke her phone....

By this point, I am both breathing fire and laughing at how ridiculous the conversation was. Eventually, with the help of a hair dryer and a clear plastic case and some tape, we got it straightened out. It turned back on, and I dashed out of the store with a working phone. Or so I thought.

Dang it! I forgot to pick up another set of turkey flippers!

Oh well. I didn't have them last year, I could do it without them again this year.

So there was the drama. All this so you all could make a perfect turkey. And so people that call me could now sound like Charlie Brown's teacher. I hope you use the tips that are disclosed on the video we are finishing up. I hope your turkey is flawless. Cause that would make today worth it.

It was a very fowl day.

Catching up...

I have to make this short and sweet, because I have a sick kid home with me. Again. So much for being over the flu…

Old business:

It came to my attention that in my “artificial unintelligent state” (that being my trashy bleached blonde hair) I totally forgot to announce the winner of the Sentsy Giveaway. Sigh. Sorry folks. I’m not super good at making big to-do’s unless I lost a pound or something. (172 and holding, FYI) And the winner is- drum roll please-

Rebecca!!! Also known as Cross.


Her name was drawn from a hat here at the Triple H (Happy Hester Headquarters), and I couldn’t be more pleased! She’s been with us from the beginning. Yep, the Yoga Incident was the thing that sealed our friendship forever. (Ok, possibly it was that I assisted at her ahhhhhmazing wedding with my SIL Julia, but the blog has definitely maintained the friendship.) Congrats Cross! Your stuff should be here shortly. I’ll even gift wrap it. Ok realistically it will be in a gift bag. But HOORAY!


Next order of business…folks, I have exactly $7 bucks in our joint savings account. The time has come for me to get a job. So I have found an opportunity that fits the bills. Most of them. I think. Starting next week, I’ve got to focus on that instead of blogging and facebooking first. Because I just couldn’t figure out a way to have that be a cash cow for me. If you know of some super top secret opportunity to get me enough for a down payment on a house, share it with me ASAP. I will still be around, but I may have to cut it down to a few posts less a week. I’ll still be faithfully yours, just from 8pm to 11pm. Does it suck? Yep. But am I ok with it? Amazingly I am.


Finally, in New Business... this weekend, in order to show off my turkey making skills, I will be making a “Turkey Tutorial.” In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I will share with you my secrets of making a super easy super deelish bird that will impress even the grumpiest of mother in laws. (Mine is great, BTW. I lucked out on this one.) There will be a video. So prepare for it. I should have it up early next week. I am doing this because my friend Mary over at Giving Up On Perfect is having a bloggy carnival, talking about giving up on the perfect Thanksgiving. I am all about helping a sister out. Plus if people are raving about your moist yummy turkey, they won’t complain about the cobwebs on the ceiling corners. I know ALL the tricks.


OK, my little one needs her Mommy. I’m enjoying it before she discovers boys. Cause then, it’s curtains for Mom’s snuggle time. I’ll take it while I can.

A Mighty Upheaval with the Ones Who Flu the Coop

A new reader, Stephanie, made this comment recently on a previous post:

"your stories aren't really the traditional, church lady devos, are they?"

I almost peed my pants with this comment. How right you are, Stephanie, how right you are!!!


And today is a perfect example of that fact. Because I'll be talking a little about my faith. And the diet. And the flu.


I promise this will not discuss puke in detail.

I may, however, address it in generalities.


As you all know, things have been mighty interesting around here. We have been dealing with flu. Not the swine kind. Just the regular ‘ole body achin, tummy quaking, intestine shakin flu. It’s not by anyone’s fault (I am not blaming my husband who works in a hospital) (or the children who sneeze on MY children at school and pass this nasty stuff) (Or the parents who send their sick kids KNOWINGLY to school because they need to go to work instead of letting their kids stay home) but regardless, with it being no one in particular’s fault, we got it.


Oh my, did we get it.


Today, everyone seems to be OK. Not great, but OK. Everyone ate a reasonable amount of food for breakfast. Everyone brushed teeth without incident. Everyone grumbled about hating mornings and asked “WHEN are we gonna homeschool?” So it seemed pretty normal. Except everyone still looks a little peckish. Just 2 shades whiter than they ought to. But the kids, who didn’t really want more makeup homework than necessary, voted to try school today.


Therefore, being the fantastic mom that I am, I let them go, with disclaimers to teachers, secretaries, and gym teachers.


There are conditions to being back at school.


Like…

1. No running. I don’t want people getting overheated. I don’t want headaches to come back with a vengeance, nor do I want tummies to start hurting.

2. If anyone, for any reason, starts acting ill, they get to come home.

3. The school is to call me if there’s any problem. I don’t care what it is, they are gonna call.



Because the flu is nothing to sneeze at. (groan) It’s something that we have to take very seriously. Which lead this attention deficited mind to thoughts about the diet.

Do we introduce conditions when we are on a diet?


Granted, dieting isn’t exactly like the flu. It’s something we choose to do. But if you have been, or are in a situation like me, you are forced to choose dieting. We have allowed ourselves to not take care of us like we should, and now we have to pay the piper. We have to get our weight under control.


So, in taking back control, what are some of the conditions while we are on a diet? What rules do we make so that we can achieve success? As I was pondering this, I couldn’t help but giggle. Here’s why.


Last night, Matt was retelling the kids about what happened when Mommy got sick on Saturday night. We are big into storytelling around here, and the kids love hearing about what happens from someone else’s point of view.


Here’s how the story went down…or came back up. For discussion.


“So your mom was lying on the couch, watching a movie. And she wasn’t feeling so hot. She was taking lots of deep breaths, telling herself ‘I’m not gonna puke..I’m not gonna puke.’ Finally, after about 30 minutes of that, she started to consider that maybe she would feel better if she didn’t fight it. Maybe if she just went with it, she would get her tummy to quit hurting.”


By this point, the kids are all wide eyed with delight and on the edge of the couch, waiting to hear what Mom would do. (Even though they already knew)


“Mommy got up off the couch and walked very slowly to the bathroom. She laid a towel down on the floor in front of the toilet. Then she got down on her knees and assumed the position. You know, when you rest your chin on the seat of the toilet and put your arms on there to hang on for dear life…anyway, I was standing behind her, making sure she was OK. I said, ‘Are you gonna be sick, babe?’ and she answered, ‘Yeah, I’m just waiting for it to star…BBBBLLLLLEEEEAAAACCCCHHHH.”


Now at this point, our kids, who have all thrown up themselves in the last 48 hours, are practically in tears, giggling with joy. Not because Mommy got sick, but because we made it OK to be sick. We found a sliver of happiness in what had happened, and the horrific moment. Matt continued on.


“I mean, your Mom, she puked so hard that she was peeing on that towel she’d laid on the floor under her. Which was very thoughtful of her to lay down. Then she kept going, and kept getting sick, and I couldn’t look away. I felt bad, but it was fascinating to watch! Mommy got so sick, it was almost violent!”


By now, our kids are on the floor, laughing. Matt makes sure we all have a good time in this house, no matter what is going on that looks bleek. Or bleck as it were.


The reason I am telling you this (somewhat gross, yet strangely fascinating) story is that we all come to a point when we know we can no longer fight the inevitable.


If you want to gain your health, you have to lose the weight.

If you are ready to drop the insecurities, you have to drop the pounds.

If you want to expand your self esteem, you have to shrink the waist.


But FIRST- it requires you to kneel down before the Throne in humility, and surrender to what lies before you.


(Yes, you all just read right. I equated a toilet to the Mercy Seat of God. If I can spiritualize a tampon and equate it to my faith, then bringing some Holiness to a toilet is a snap!)


What are your conditions to embarking on this journey?


Surrender.


This weight loss process, much like the flu, is filled with nasty moments. You may question yourself and your capabilities. You will get frustrated and fight with yourself to keep going. But if you are kneeling and giving it all over to your Maker, bite by bite, pound by pound, then you are going to make it. Not because of your own strength, but because the flying white flag of surrender is your banner.


Surrender makes it OK. No- this process will not be fun. Not all the time. But looking back on it, if you have surrendered yourself, then there is no shame, and no condemnation. You are making changes from this moment forward. There is no more beating yourself up for getting into this position. You say, “Ok, I’m gonna feel better after this is all said and done. I’m going to get through this. But for right now, I have to give over to this. I have to surrender.”


And you rest your chin on the seat, wrap your arms around your God, hanging on for dear life, and you let the upheaval begin.


“For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land- a land with streams and pools of water, with springs flowing into the valleys and hills.”

Home Sick

Today I have a little boy home with me. He’s got a temperature, he’s throwing up, and is mostly miserable, except he is well enough to appreciate that he is watching cartoons while laying on the couch and Mom is at his beck and call. (Or bucket and call.)

If you are sick, you aren’t supposed to be grinning.

Last night, as some of you may have read on facebook, Tim came up to me and said (quite jovially, I might add) “Hey mom, I think I am going to blow some chunks tonight.” Then he smiled this huge Cheshire Cat smile at me.

And to be honest, we have too many kids round here crying wolf about being sick. Someone is always hurt, or coughing, or has a booger. Someone’s legs are always growing and hurting, or someone has the hiccups. (Which is a seriously crippling condition around here. Hiccups mean that you have a valid excuse to try and get out of doing chores. It's an epidemic.)

So when Tim told me he was feeling yucky, he didn’t LOOK like he was feeling bad. He seemed pretty happy about it. Like he was excited to get flu. Or maybe it was because he wanted to stay home and watch TV all day without big sisters controlling the remote. Anyway you look at it, he knew something was wrong. But he still smiled.

So maybe I’m the one who is looking at things all wrong.

Maybe grinning is the answer.

Perhaps we need to focus on why laughter makes things better when life stinks. Like with dieting. Some of the best moments through this diet were fraught with mayhem and hilarity. Like all my yoga experiences. Or disasters with gas. And of course, when my exercise ball went flying in the air like a rocket in the packed gym at the YMCA. All of those moments, embarrassing as they may be, have spurred me on to keep going. Because they really are funny.

And laughing sure beats crying about it.

Now, I want to know what your funny experiences are. I can’t be the only one around here providing entertainment, you know. I’ve given you songs and stories. Now it’s your turn. Tell me about the stuff that you gone through on your diet. Or maybe on a date. Or at your job.

But try to make me laugh. Because I would like to grin as I am busy scrubbing the carpet on the floor where Tim missed the bucket 10 minutes ago.

I'll start you off with a story from my friend Lisa about her experiences with a road trip and a sick kid. It's a riot!

Laughter is necessary. So, what have you got?

The Girl and the Prison- A Fat Fairy Tail

Once upon a time there was a girl held captive. She was in a prison of her own mind, a dark lonely room with no sunshine or happiness. She was desperate to break free. Her cruel guard was a small, lying, conniving, evil metal box. It showed magical numbers that could elate her within this prison, or draw her deeper into the forgotten corners. This girl knew nothing else except that she wanted- NEEDED- to get out.


She had heard about others breaking free, but never had the courage to run for herself. It was too hard. The path wasn’t clear how far away her liberty would be, or how she could even find the way. She had encountered myths and legends about finding freedom: Grapefruits, 6 week body makeovers, some woman named Jenny (who charged lots and lots of gold for freedom), and even going on a hunger strike. All of these options might lead her away for a while, but she knew that eventually she would find herself right back in this same spot.


One day, when her prison became too much to wear…I mean bear... she decided that she would try something new. She would find her own wings, watch for the right time, and get out of this hell hole called obesity.


For the next year, she tried many different variations of the wings. Over time, and by a process of elimination, she discovered ways to lose the fat chains, get proper nutrition, and gained stamina instead of fat rolls. Her wings were finally starting to come together!


And that’s when something magical happened. A window appeared, looking out from the confined spaces of her mind. And as her wings grew stronger, the window started growing larger and larger, while she got healthier, happier, and smaller.


Pretty soon, she was ready to leave her prison for good (as she could finally fit out of the window that had appeared!).


But just as she was about to venture out for freedom, she noticed something quite peculiar.


She could see other girls, JUST LIKE HER, trying to jump to their own freedoms. And it was awful. The moment they jumped (head first), they thudded on the ground, and instantly appeared back in their own cells of confinement. Try as they might, they couldn’t break free.


And that was when this girl, ready to take off and never come back, made a decision that would change her life forever. If the wings she had fashioned worked, she would spend her life teaching others how to make a pair for themselves. She would talk to others about the fears of flying and jumping head first, and show them how they could do it. This was to be her mission. But first, it was time to test her wings.


Gathering every ounce of courage inside of her, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and jumped. And she started sinking. Down down down to her doom. And right as she thought that the wings had failed, the wind began to lift her up. Quickly she spread her wings open wide, and touched the sky for the first time in 20 years. Her heart raced and pounded! The blood rushed within her!

"This is what life should feel like!"


She twirled and dipped in the air, shrieking with joy! She glanced over her shoulder and saw others were watching her from their prisons. And with delight in her heart, she cried out into the sky…


“I am coming back for you! YOU WILL BE FREE!!!”

Note to Self...

Dear Charlie-


Yes, you are writing a letter to yourself today. This is a letter for you to read in a year.

Because if you could have written yourself a letter for beginning of this weight loss journey, standing where you are today, you would be so encouraged! I just know it!

So, I have to tell you a few things about the last leg of this diet, and why you are going to stick with it.

First of all, you are strong enough. I know that everybody teases you about being flakey, and never sticking with anything very long, especially diets-but this is a journey that you are going to walk with a quiet confidence and endurance. You have already conquered a whole year, and look at the changes you have made!

Can you believe the difference so far? And although you are over half way to your goal, the changes are only going to get better from here. (And ignore the fact that your hair was totally uncooperative last night so you threw a crappy ponytail in and gave up, even though it was sticking up and looks yucky.)


Remember that first day on the treadmill when you were huffing and puffing at walking 2 miles? And remember how proud you felt about that 2 miles? Well, sister, you kept going. You kept pushing the distance. And now you can walk 8 miles without cramps or falling over. What will you be saying in a year? Will you be able to walk 15 miles then??? Maybe. But all the flakey nature in you ceases when it comes to taking back your body. You have proven that even though it is one of the toughest things you have done, you are capable.

And remember how you could never imagine a life without 2 liters of Coke every day and Papa John’s Pizza? Now, a little over halfway to the finish line, you don’t even crave Diet Coke. You crave water! Your body has finally fallen into line with this “clean living” stuff and even though it took a while, you are on the right track. Because you have gone slowly, your body didn’t go into major shock, and you have discovered a diet you can deal with your entire life.

Today, weighing 172 and having lost 66 pounds to date- I want to encourage you to keep this up. Enjoy the feelings of accomplishment you have over the next year. Embrace putting on size 12 pants without worrying they won’t fit. Because they do fit. Nicely, and not too tight. The 10’s are still iffy and require a girdle. But you are no longer a slave to the plus side of Fashion Bug. For the first time in your life- settled in your 30’s- you are a JUNIOR.

I can’t wait to see what you accomplish in the next 6 months. The weight loss is going slower, but stick with it, junior. You survived the first year amid massive amounts of self doubt, frustrations, and a see-saw of emotions. And you never dreamed you would be sitting here today, breathing comfortable in your size 12 goal jeans, writing this letter. If I could go back in time, I’d show you where you were heading- the changes in your body, how you found yourself again and raised your voice above the crashing waves. You survived this first year, and you are going to make strides into unknown territory now. Push ahead, and never forget where you came from.

Because others are watching, waiting to see if you- the most obstinate person you have met to date- can do this. If she can walk ahead to her dreams and a new life. Your dreams are getting bigger as you are getting smaller. Pound by pound, the prison of your body is melting away.

And you are finally breaking free.

Loving God and loving yourself-
Charlie

Laugh it off...an interview with Matt and Charlie

Sometimes, it takes a comedian to interview a comedianne. And no matter how much the world loved Lucy, she needed someone just as funny to play the straight lace she could bounce off.




I talk an awful lot about Matt on this blog, and it's because his support is essental to my success. If I couldn't laugh with him through this whole thing, I may not be where I am today.






So, just for fun, and in the throws of being goofy and silly (as is the custom in this house) I had Matt give me an impromptu interview. Of course, being lazy and laying on the couch is NEVER good for camera angles, but you will understand why losing 65 pounds is still not enough for me. Now I need to tone and tighten. (And make sure Matt films me from a better angle next time!)
I almost re-recorded this whole thing, but you know what? We could never reproduce the content that we got on this time. Therefore you all will have to accept that the camera and my poorly posed position adds 20 pounds. Hollywood isn't ready for me yet.


Anyhoo, I hope this interview helps you get to know the real Charlie, nerd that I am (through the eyes and torments of her extremely funny husband) as we discuss the diet and my journey so far, while dabbling in the very awesome topics of everything from floating and aliens to my love of Tom Hanks in "Castaway" and Mary Alice from "Ace of Cakes," and even quantum physics. This interview shows you what I am like all the time. Yes, people, this is who I am. I am a goof.



I hope you will join me in laughing it off!!

Try Your Best

This weekend is going to be hectic. I already know it.


Besides the whole issue of Halloween with 3 kids 10 years old and under, Matt and I have gotten the theatre bug again. (Please note the correct spelling of the word used for live shows and plays, which is theatre. If you go to a movie, it plays at a theater. Big difference. Because knowledge is power! Cue cheesy music and a shooting star.) We are going to see our buddy Bill, who starred in the indy film Matt recently worked on, who will be performing in a show that he wrote called "Coyote". We heart people like that. Talent just oozes from every part of their being.


Along with theatre, if you have been following me on Facebook, you may be aware that I have challenged myself to write lyrics, music and (a wretched) piano part for a new song every day. I must admit, this is WAAAAAAY easier than exercising. And I’ve enjoyed the task thus far. If you aren't a facebooker, look me up on youtube.com using the name "charliegirl2490". You can see the fruits of my labor.


Apparently songwriting, like inspiration and swine flu, is contagious. I’m not sure when I will be blogging this weekend (maybe not till Sunday) so until then, I would like leave you with an inspirational song that my son wrote tonight. He’s 7 and all boy, therefore I am not showing you the copy of the song where he begins it by going “Hold on Mom” and hocking a loogie onto the last of the summer flowers in front of our house. You will note that he also is not wearing a shirt. I had to fight him to make sure he was wearing pants to record this. (His little belly makes me laugh every time. He’s a hoot, and you will see how strong the tide of the genetic pool is in my family. Foolishness runs deep. And Matt and I are exactly the kind of parents who encourage said foolishness, as you can tell by our commentary in the beginning. We laugh A LOT in this house!)


This is his song, entitled “Try Your Best.”

Have a great weekend, ya’ll, and I’ll be back soon.

Charlie: A grammatically correct Diva

First of all- 173 baby!!! Whooo-hoo! That gives me a 65 pound loss so far, and still going. It’s a miracle. And proves once again that yes, the ark of promise is my booty. (Thanks for loving that, Hill. It was my favorite analogy too!) OK, onto the gross, ridiculous and funny.


Recently it has come to my attention that there are still many readers who posses a Y chromosome. It shocks, surprises and amuses me greatly.


In light of that recent discovery, I am posting a disclaimer.


Boys: this is not a post for you. Cause I’m gonna talk about cycles. The kind you all freak out about. The kind that women are totally over having. The kind we all know are coming once a month yet still, after all these years act surprised that we get them. Therefore…You have been warned. Get out. Get out while you can. There are words ahead that you will never forget.


Ok, girls. (And the morbidly curious fellas who can’t take a hint) I got grammatically correct the other day when I found my period. I was doing math, and things weren’t adding up.

Finally, it came.


Before I tell you the story about how it came, I am going to tell you about a product I am trying with total commitment this month. A Diva Cup. Ladies, if you are even slightly squeamish, this is not for you. But if you can handle something that is the equivalent of a diaphragm and a tampon rolled into one, you might be just fine with it. A friend of mine had ordered one, and after going to the OBGYN she was told that it wasn’t the best option for her. So she passed the (unused) Diva Cup to me. It’s kind of a hassle, but I am saving money on tampons this month by using this gory snowcone cup of menses, so I’m willing to give it a shot. It’s taken a few months for the Cup to feel comfortable and normal, so this week I am trying it for the duration. The yucky part is you have to keep washing it out. And you see stuff in a new way. After 20 years of periods, this is an eye opening experience for me. I’ll let you know how it goes, and I’ll even make a link to the Diva Cup site, so you can see exactly what I am talking about.


Now, onto how the period at the end of my sentence for being a woman came to be this month.


Like I said, the numbers weren’t adding up, and I was late. Later than I like to be. My usual sign (threatening to pummel anyone who crossed my path) came early last week, but it seemed to be a no flow situation. I carried pads and tampons in my purse, waiting for the great flood of the red sea, but it never came. So I was a bit panicky. I’m terrified I will go into early menopause or something and find out I can’t bear more kids. Because of this neurosis, (and hoping that my tubes will magically grow back together and I will have a miracle baby) I watch my cycle like a hawk.


On Monday night, which is our walking group night, I decided it was a nice evening, so I walked to the mall. Which means no purse. Just my fanny pack with essentials. Because I wasn’t seeing any signs of the eminent, I didn’t think to slip a pad in the fanny pack, plus I needed room for my adorable pink hat from Walgreens for the walk home. Vanity, vanity.


So I hoofed the 2.7 miles to the mall, then walked our usual 2.5 with the gals. We chatted and prattled on and had a good time. It was fantastic. And then it was time to leave.


Lee Ann was going to walk home with me from the mall, because it was late, and we don’t like inviting trouble late at night, so there is saftey in numbers. We stopped in Sears for a quick potty break. This was the conversation from under the stalls.

Charlie: DANG IT!!! NO! WHY RIGHT NOW???

Lee Ann: Uh-oh. What happened? Did you start?

Charlie: YES!!!! DANG IT!!!! DANG IT!!!!!!!!!

Lee Ann: Do you have anything? Cause I sure don’t have stuff on me.

Charlie: Yeah, I think I’ll be ok. I’m covered.

Lee Ann: OK. Good. Poor thing.


See, I had on one of those carefree light days liners, the ones that smell like powder, because I get swampy results from sweat down there, and don’t want to have a funky odor. So I figured that liner would be enough to last me till I could get home in an hour after the walk back.


How wrong I was. With every step, I could feel that the little liner was not build to absorb what my body was throwing at it. I adjusted as we walked when cars weren’t coming, and I didn’t care if Lee Ann saw me digging at my crotch, trying to move that 5 inches of insurance forwards or back, hoping to maneuver it to an unused spot so I wouldn’t have a disaster in my drawers.


Finally, I got to the spot where I drop Lee Ann off at her street, and I continue on alone for a couple of blocks. All I could think about was getting home.


Of course, right about that time, I ran into the stray dog.


I have a fear of dogs. I mentioned that a long time ago, but it is worth re-telling. I'm terrified of dogs. Not to mention I see those shows on Animal Planet called “I survived” about animal attacks. In fact, Matt and I had just watched one the night before about a cougar (or some kind of big cat) that attacked a woman because it was attracted to the smell of her cycle. And we had joked about the little bit from the movie “Anchorman” when they are talking about bears, and they said that bears would come into the office and attack when a woman was on her period. (It’s a hilarious stretch of dialogue and one of our favorite movies. We watch it like once a month and can quote the entire movie)


Back to the stray dog. All I could think about as this dog looked at me from across the street was “It can smell my period!!!” and I was frozen to the ground. I couldn’t move. No, that’s not true. I had my hands down my pants, trying frantically somehow to revive the fresh powder sent from my dying pantyliner to disguise the smell that the animal kingdom can pick up from a mile away.

The dog started barking. AT ME. And I panicked some more. Breathe, Charlie, breathe. But I couldn’t. I just stood there and prayed “GOD!!! Please don’t let me get attacked by this dog because I didn’t pack pads in my fanny pack! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”


As the dog started across the street (and I think it was a Rottweiler or a Great Dane. Maybe a spaniel or terrier, but in the dark of night, whatever it was- it looked HUGE) I really started to freak out. About the time it had walked slowly and menacingly across half the street, a few cars started to drive by. They began honking and one yelled out “Hey, get that dog on a leash, lady! It’s gonna get hit!” I yelled back “It’s not my dog! HIT IT!!!!” Not my most humane moment, but I really thought this dog was gonna eat me alive.


Finally 2 cars later, a woman seemed to understand my plight. (Maybe not the dog smelling my period part, but that I was scared of the dog.) So she started backing the dog away WITH HER CAR by driving close and honking until the dog ran off. I could have kissed whoever she was for rescuing me. I moved on quickly after thanking her with a hand wave and jogged the rest of the way home.


When I got back, I told Matt the story, and he laughed because I was acting so overdramatic about it. But I really was convinced it was because of my period. I have never had a problem before tonight, and I start my cycle and the hounds come running. He said that I was overreacting. But he had a good laugh at my expense.


I think from now on. I will walk with a big stick in my hand. Everytime.

And ALWAYS.

The Last Waltz for Dixie

What a weekend!


First of all, you are the most ahhhmazing readers that a blog could have. If you don’t believe me, look at the comments after my last post, Before meets Almost After. Your tender and heartfelt responses make me cry. I have them printed off because reading them lifts my spirits and pushes me forward. A blogger couldn’t ask for better readers.


Some exciting news on the diet front…this weekend was Matt’s show (Civil War the Musical. It turned out to be a beautiful and heart wrenching show, and the title of this post was one catchy tune that I can't stop singing today. My dahling hubby, who sang a song called "Sarah" made women cry by the hundreds) and it could not have gone better. Local theaters may have their moments of defeat, but this weekend proved that when people come together to tell a beautiful story- magic can happen. And I got to see the whole thing on Saturday night wearing size 10 jeans. I even had Belinda, a wonderful friend of mine, look IN MY PANTS to show off the tag. You all know that my pride only stems from the massive work that has been endured, so it’s not out of vanity that I shared the underside of my jeans.

It was more out of showing myself and others that miracles DO HAPPEN. Every day. It’s our choice if we see them as miracles or simply wonderful coincidences. I choose to believe that God worked mightily in my life and I am now reaping the rewards of the strength He gave me to do this. It’s like I built an Ark when people said it couldn’t be done and there was no purpose. This is the ark of promise that I wore on my booty. My rear end is living proof that God still works. That’s no sacrilege, people. It’s the butt of the truth.


One of the most fun things for me during the show, besides watching my husband play onstage the kind of husband he really is, (except for the Yankee killing Johnny Reb his character was. We tend to be Union minded in this house. But the tender and passionate husband? My baby Matt is totally that kind of man!) was the fun of seeing people I hadn’t seen for several months. I look totally different. And back stage, Matt kept walking around grabbing my rear and asking people “Isn’t my wife hot? I love her! She’s sooooo fine!” I can’t deny that it was probably sickening to other people after the 2nd day of that, but Matt really is proud of all I have gone through to work for this, and he was determined to make sure I knew just how proud he is. It totally worked. Flirting is a pastime for both of us, and we got our fill this weekend.

In front of the house (which is the audience, for those of you who don’t speak theatre) I got to mingle with some of my very favorite people that I don’t see very often. The theatre world is rather funny. We call it having theatre friends. You see them every week for 2 months, then after a show is over, you don’t see them for 6 months. Or a year. Sometimes 2. So lots of folks who had seen me last theatre season had no idea that I had shrunk so much. And it was fun listening to the ones that have followed the blog (thank you ladies!) and got to see me in the flesh. The difference they saw and gushed over reminded me that every food choice I make, every mile I walk- it all makes a difference. Not only in my life, but in the ones around me. Inspiration is a powerful thing, and it’s nothing short of contagious. More contagious than swine flu. I am determined to work very hard this week to gain as much ground as I can to keep my momentum going.


Finally, I had an article in our local newspaper this weekend. I wrote it as a letter to the editor, but it was printed as its own article. Which is extremely flattering! Maybe I have a knack for this writing thing after all. Maybe one day, I’ll figure out how to get paid for it too!


OK, lots to catch up on after a busy weekend. Now that you are caught up, the house is next. But I need more coffee for that.

Cuppa Joe, I’m your baby now.

Before meets Almost Finished

My dear wonderful readers…


Today is a big day for me. No, I’m not sharing my “big news” yet. What I am going to share with you is a very special picture.


Last year about this time, knowing full well that my doctor considered me “morbidly obese,” (because he wrote it on my chart. In front of me. LEGIBLY. Jerk.) I felt defeated. I felt like no matter how many pounds I lost in a week, or even a month, I would never get close to my goal weight. Or anything resembling a respectable weight.


What really depressed me is that I have to have surgery before I can have kids again. (My tubes were tied in my previous marriage. A decision I was NOT happy about.) I had to have a body mass index (BMI) of under 35 before I could ever be considered safe to have a tubal ligation reversal, and I was kissing a BMI of 41. I was going to HAVE to lose weight if I wanted the surgery to get pregnant again. (Before you ask-No, I’m not pregnant. I took a test last night and it was a no-go. Crazy to take a test, because I am sterile at the moment, yet I am ever optimistic and believe in miracles!) But if surgery is the route for us to get pregnant, I was never going to have a baby again, because I couldn’t lose weight. I tried, but other than a few pounds of what I am sure was water weight, I couldn’t do it. I was a big fat failure.


You all know that I weighed 238 at my heaviest documented weight. You know that I have been working for a little over 10 months seriously to get this weight off. And now, my fantastic supportive friends who love me and cheer me on…it is time for you all to see “THE ONE” picture that changed my life. After I saw this picture, taken last Christmas morning, I spent the next 3 days crying, screaming, and beating myself up. It is awful. And on the 4th day, when I looked at it, I decided to do something about it. I decided to get serious about losing weight and exercising. I found a tiny sliver of determination (which I am sure was the very last of what I had squandered for 10 years prior) and made a choice. I was going to lose weight.


And now…presenting for the first time in public view… is the worst picture of me EVER TAKEN. Quite possibly the worst picture taken of anyone- ever. I am swallowing my pride to show you the very bottom depths of my weight loss journey. This, my darling sisters in dieting, is where I started.


I am so thankful for this picture. Well, now I am. I hated it for several months. I never wanted to see how low I had gone (or count how many of my chins were hanging out) and wished it would disappear off our computer. I almost deleted it several times. But every time I tried, something inside me cried out “NO!!!!” I have learned to listen to that voice, so I never finished the deed.


A couple of nights ago, I was making a video of a song I wrote for a musician friend who is writing guitar for it (it being The Official Shrink Charlie’s Big Butt Theme Song…it’s a hoot, and we are recording it next week. I PROMISE I will post it as soon as we finish!) and when I watched the playback of the video, I noticed something. My face looked really weird. I didn’t look like myself anymore. It’s tough to notice change when you look at yourself in a mirror every day. But when you have a video and are looking directly at yourself, and it doesn’t look like you at all, you take notice.


So I snapped a couple of pictures of me mugging for the camera, and this was what I saw…




I have no idea who this girl is. She looks…well…she looks thin! What I would consider thin, anyway. Before anyone squawks about anything- let me say this. My body doesn’t look like the face. Not yet. But all of a sudden I realized that I had changed somewhere between the blisters and peeing on my mattress this morning. Because 4 weeks ago- I DID NOT LOOK LIKE THIS.


The reason I am rambling on and on about this is for one reason. I was the girl who couldn’t diet. I couldn’t lose weight. Never have. And I am guessing that some of you out there can relate to that. I bet some of you have said to yourself “I am just going to have to accept myself like this because I will never change.”


And I am here to tell you I know for a fact that YOU ARE WRONG.


You can do this. I’m not going to tell you that it will be easy, or that weight will come off quickly, but I will tell you that if you are determined enough to give it everything you have got…YOU CAN DO THIS.


As I was thinking about this strange girl invading my pictures and singing on the video, I remembered that very first awful, horrific picture. And I decided to put them side by side. I like having motivational pictures of myself floating around the house, taped on the fridge door, on the bathroom mirror…anywhere I walk by. As I was putting the pictures on the same page, I had some left over space on the paper. I decided to think of a phrase that would keep me working on my goal. I couldn't come up with one I already knew, so I made one myself. This was what I came up with:


When you believe in your dreams and face your fears,
You can change the things you face in mirrors.


Catchy, huh? But it speaks volumes to my weight loss story so far. I believed, just a teeny bit at first, that I might be able to do this. I faced my fears of exercise, yoga, sweat, and broccoli. I faced the emotional issues that have come up head on, and you have supported me through all of it.


Then one day, after thinking that I was stalled out and nothing was happening on the diet front- WHAM! That girl showed up, and my mirror was showing me someone that I had never met before. This woman, who was once the one who shied away from cameras and only wore black clothing hoping it would slim her, the woman who used to make power point projects to show while she sang on Sunday mornings so no one would look at how fat she was…this woman, who thought she would never change- she finally changed.


I am crying right now as I write this, because I wish I could show you how ripped open my heart is at the moment. I am proud of what has happened over the last year, but am lying flat out on the floor in humility because this journey would not have happened without 2 important things.


1. The grace and mercy of a God who decided to let me fall so far down by my own hand that I could only look to Him for help in losing weight. When I gave Him control over this area in my life and concentrated on one day at a time, He slowly and lovingly brought me up out of the pit- showing me unreasonable grace every single day of this uphill journey.


2. The faithful friends who have read my blog, commented, emailed, called, and generally loved the stuffings out of me through the whole thing. I MEAN YOU.


OK, I gotta get some Kleenex, because I am bawling at the moment. But you all have no idea how amazing this is for me. I want so badly to put into words what my heart is crying out, but I’m not sure how to word it. So, instead, I will say this.


"If you are in a pit caused by weight at the moment, let me love you like I have been loved. Let me cheer you on like hundreds of people have done for me on this blog. Let me cry with you, celebrate with you, and even eat with you. I want more than anything to pass on this gift to every single one of you. When you get to your finish line, I want to be the one there to give you cups of cold water and hang a medal around your sweet swan-like neck.


I am in the final stretches of my own race now, and I see you standing ahead, waiting for me to cross the finish line. I’m on my way, and soon we will REALLY celebrate. But for now, I’m running side by side with you, every step of the way. I am here for you."


I love you all, and you are more precious to me than all the gold, silver and Krispy Kremes in the world.


Keep running, my sweet sisters, keep running.

A Fish out of Water: Tales of the Morning After the Mile

I have to tell you about my morning. Because it will make you feel better. No matter where you are physically on your own weight loss journey, I promise this will help. But before I can tell you about my morning, I have to tell you about what happened Wednesday.


Yesterday I took the kids swimming at the YMCA. And I took their cousin with us, so my kids would be entertained in the pool and I could swim. It worked, and I had the opportunity to swim laps. Which is great for toning your body. And burning calories. And increasing your spending on Advil.


About a week ago, I managed to squeak out a half mile by swimming 18 laps. It didn’t wear me out, or make me hurt or anything. So yesterday, I figured “Charlie, you can walk 8 miles and not fall over. I bet you can swim one measly mile!" (36 laps) And therefore, mentally challenging myself to the gills (and boy is THAT a loaded statement) I took off like a shot in the water.


To clarify, I need to purchase goggles very soon, because I am a contact wearer. I am terrified that I will lose one of my precious eyepieces in the water, so I don’t swim like a swimmer should. I do a combination of “keeping my head above the surface Breaststroke” and a back stroke. The backstroke has always been my favorite way to swim, because I am fast. And the breaststroke opens my body up to stretch, much like the calming positions of Fat Girl Yoga, so I can extend my body and really work the muscles without harm.


Or so I thought.


I also have a huge problem keeping track of how many laps I have done. Any of you who have been to the Danville walking group will attest to that. I am constantly asking “What number are we on?” And we only do 5 laps at the mall. So as I am swimming, working very hard to remember what lap I am on, I figured out a solution. I started naming all the foods I could think of with a weight watcher point value of the lap I was on. (To quote Weird Al Yankovic, “Look at me, I’m white and nerdy!”) Once I got stumped on that, I started giving myself harder things like “name 15 kids from your 3rd grade class” and “what was your high school schedule when you were 17?” - tough stuff like that.


Once I finally got into my 20’s, I began thinking about each year of my life and thanking God for all the blessings I received that year. For example, when I was 22, I had my daughter, Amy. So I began to pray for her, for her future, for her husband who is growing up right now too, and things like that. Then I went on for each kid (which took care of 22 through 24) and then 25 through 32 were praying for my extended family, my marriage, friends, all of you who read my blog, and the book I am currently writing. (Dancing from Fat to Freedom. Shameless Plug.)


33 through 36 were nothing more than positive self talk. Stuff like “You can do this! You won’t sink because of your God-given flotation devices on your chest, so just move your legs and arms.” I finally got it done, and I was hungry and exhausted. (BTW- why DOES swimming make you hungry? I’ve always wondered that.) I shamefully admit that I wanted to brag to my friend Kent Nelson that I survived a mile. He is famous in Danville for his family’s elite pool club, and is high up on the national swim team board. He and I like to poke fun at each other, and I really wanted to make him proud.


And when it was all said and done, the adrenaline kicked in. I was elated that I had accomplished such a feat, and although I was tired, I felt great.


So great, in fact, that I decided to wear high heels to church later that night. I needed to see if they caused any blisters before Saturday night (when I attend my husband’s stirring and riveting performance in “Civil War: the Musical” and I’ll be dressing to the nines) and since my friend Jamie DeVore insists on the wonderment and captivating power of HIGH heels (not the little ones. We are talking make-you-as-tall-as-your-hubby high) I must give a shot at the highest ones I have got. Which means I need a trial run so I can still walk on Sunday morning. I wore the heels, no blisters appeared, and all was well with the world.


About 11pm last night, after much tom-foolery on facebook, I started to feel the pangs of a Charlie-horse. I took 3 advil and a Tylenol PM and went to bed.


Which brings us to this morning.


The advil wore off about 5am, and I (stupidly) tried to sleep through it. I love sleep. I love sleep more than being awake. But I had a really good reason for being so tired. I swam a mile! From 5am till the alarm started singing at 6am, I tossed and turned, trying to ignore the aches and catch “just 9 more minutes of sleep.”


At 6, I finally gave up and decided the need for more advil outweighed the need for more sleep. Plus, I really had to pee. I put my legs over the side of the bed and stood up.


Which was exactly when the Charlie-horse hit me full force.


Crippling cramps convulsed through my calf, curling my toes and catching me off guard. Because I also had to pee, and was taken by surprise by the cramp, I stood there unable to walk the 10 feet to my toilet, and peed right there on the side of the mattress and the floor. After using my robe as a roll of Charmin, I sat back down on my soggy side of the mattress and rubbed my poor leg. When the cramp finally passed, I tenderly walked to the bathroom to see if there was anything left in my bladder. It was in vain, because it was all on my bed and the floor.


I spent the next 20 minutes taking a towel to the bed and floor, attempting to minimize the damage. WHY, OH WHY didn’t I put the mattress protecting pad back on when I changed the sheets last week? “Because I am an adult and I don’t pee the bed.” (Those were my exact mental words at the time. Figures.)


And remember the whole issue of keeping the head above water? I couldn't kneel to wipe up the floor very well (lest I send my leg back into the vice of the Charlie-horse) so I was kind of gently bending from the waist. Which reminded my neck that it was also irritated. I couldn't look at the floor and move my neck, so I had to work sight unseen. (It was still dark anyway, because I was not going to wake up Matt and let him laugh at me. He would be allowed to laugh later.) My awkward position became something like blind maid doing the hokey pokey- keep your right leg straight, don't try to hang your head down, wipe the puddle to the left, now you shake it all about....


I then put the robe, pee soaked towel and my pride in a garbage bag so Matt wouldn’t notice it, laid another towel on my side of the mattress, and covered it with the comforter. I would deal with it later.


When it was all said and done, the kids missed the bus, I didn’t get their lunches packed, and I had to drive them to school. I also created enough work for myself to last me the whole morning.

But hey! I swam a mile yesterday!

Monday, Monday

Well, I gotta tell you. This weekend was full of surprises.


Like the surprise of figuring out it is possible to eat Pizza Hut on your diet if you don’t overdo it. And feeling the thrill of tackling 10 loads of laundry yesterday afternoon. Granted, they are sitting folded in towering stacks on the dining room table, but they are folded and clean!




And Saturday. The day that changed my life. I got some really exciting news (which you will be filled in on soon enough) that made me jump for joy and pee my pants. I only peed because of the jumping, or at least that’s the story I’m sticking to. But this news is big enough that it has rekindled some real fires in me to get things going again on the diet front.




Because let’s just say that I will be needing a new head shot soon. And I want it to look good. Really good. God has blessed me with an opportunity that I am still floored over, but am graciously and humbly accepting. Guys, this is the kind of “good thing” that Martha Stewart only dreams of.




So I’m going to give you the short list of some things I will be doing over the next few months in anticipation of this huge opportunity. PLEASE HOLD ME ACCOUNTABLE! Email me, call me, whatever you need to do. Just make sure you remind me of this huge blessing that has dropped in my lap, and remind me not to sit on my laurels.




1. I am going to get a fitness assessment at the YMCA. This is crazy scary for me, but they make you do running and sit-ups and measure your body fat in a public room and all that jazz. I promise you will hear the results shortly after I do. But I figure not only will this help me figure out what I need to do for some maximum results, but it will also show me how far I have come. If I am still breathing at the end of it. Which is just a theory at this point!




2. I am going to work on keeping my chin zit free. This has nothing to do with dieting, but I gotta tell you. After I bragged about things being chintastic, God gave me a slice of humble pie with the most monstrous double hitter zits possible on my loverly new chin. It was a set of those undergrounders that have their own heartbeats. That’s what I get for showing off. (Maybe I’ll see if I brag about how huge my waist is if that works in my favor!) Any suggestions at how to do that would be greatly appreciated. I already have some Preparation H on it this morning, and have been putting Germ-X on it. It stings like a mother scratcher, but at least it helps dry it up and minimizes scarring. Anyhoo, it would be nice not to have to photoshop out a huge thing on my chin.




3. Arms!!!! I am going to focus on how to get the arms to firm up. My legs are looking great (wait, did I learn nothing from the chin fiasco?) -let me rephrase. The legs are toning up as to be expected, but the arms are not getting the workout the legs are. So I am going to be focusing on those wiggly jiggly jello arms of mine and see what can be done. As long as I keep burning fat, I should be able to tone them eventually.




4. GROW OUT MY HAIR. This is a toughie for me, because I tend to start hacking away when it gets to an annoying length. However, I want the hair to grow as much as possible over the next 4 months (which is about how long I have) so I can take a good headshot.




5. Finally, April Showers Blog Design is going to be revamping the blog in the next couple of weeks, so watch for some changes. They will probably just be there one day, but I’m not sure when yet. But OSCBB is going to undergo a new transformation, and I can’t wait for the changes to get here! Poor April has been up to her eyeballs in bloggy design and a job and a marriage and trying to lose weight, so it’s taken longer than I’d hoped. But trust me, she is totally worth the wait, however long it is. I’m patient. If it takes me another year to lose this last 35 pounds, I can handle that. Cause I am going to have a totally tricked out blog to keep me amused and enthused, thanks to April!!!




And there you have it folks! A list of my dieting to-do’s for the next few months. I am still working on 100 miles in October, and am half way there at 50 miles so far. But walking group will have to wait for a week, because my darling husband has tech week for a show he is in. That means I am stuck home with kids. So I’ll have to hit the treadmill instead of walking with the girls. But I’ll walk. I can do this, and I need this. Just 50 more miles to go!!!




So- what would you like to accomplish over the next few months?

Charlie decides to CHILL OUT

So after much soul searching and frustration, I think that I just need a fresh start. I need to pretend like I haven’t lost a bunch of weight, and work it like I did in the very beginning. Also, I hear your sweet and thoughtful comments. I will lay off the salt and try not to weigh myself every day before I brush my teeth both times. Thanks for being there for me on a low day, and for understanding. You guys are the best!!!

OK, so a fresh start on dieting is in order. Which means once again ridding out all the crap food in my house and making sure that my cupboards are sparkly clean and filled with diet friendly food.

While preparing my shopping list for a huge trip to Wally-world, I opened the fridge to see what I needed.

For the record, I now only open the fridge 3 times a day, so it is slightly neglected. But this morning I realized that somebody (under 4 ft tall and not legally an adult yet) had put a pear, which was half eaten, on the top shelf of the fridge. It had since died, and thankfully the yuck smell wasn’t too bad. However- the pile of juice it was laying in was thicker than syrup and disgusting. I was not about to go through the drama of Walmart on a Friday only to put good food in a gross fridge.

Therefore I spent this evening cleaning it out.

Call me weird and crazy (wouldn’t be the first time for either) but cleaning out the fridge is not a simple job for me, mostly because I feel the need to inspect everything that’s in there. If it’s not dying or multiplying, I am compelled to keep it. If it still smells ok, it stays. If it’s the right color, chances are pretty good it will be served for lunch the next day. All of which mean that the process of ridding out food takes a while.

But the horror I found in the depths of the drawers and shelves caused me to react in a manner very much like this:

I could just feel the H1N1 breeding underneath the clear plastic drawers full of lonely carrot sticks from yesteryear and a home grown zucchini that had given up all forms of hope and succumbed to being a science experiment. Sad thing was, I couldn’t remember who had given it to us or more importantly- WHEN?

Thankfully, the Clorox wipes were bountiful, and the Mr. Clean cleanser was appropriately not watered down as I scrubbed the fridge till is sparkled. I even took a pipe cleaner to the corners and got the hard to reach places I have never gotten to before. I also soaked the shelves in the bathtub in hot soapy water until I was sure that any swine flu critters (or any other kind of virus breeding there) were totally washed away.

See?

Cleaning out the fridge for me is pretty darn cathartic. Almost like church. After I spend hours washing away the grime and sludge of the food world, I put the food into a fridge that has been freshly baptized and made new again. It compels me to avoid the juices and corn syrup infused junk that will muck it up again, and stick with fresh fruits and veggies, and brand new gallons of skim milk. That still have their pink lids on them! (If you are wondering about that last one, my son never puts the lid back on, but always gets it into the fridge. I found 14 pink milk lids during tonight’s session. A new record. I am thinking of turning them into a necklace for him to wear…)

And it got me to thinking, (yes, yes, dangerous business…thinking.) maybe you all, for some reason, might be interested in seeing the foods that I purchase on a regular basis. OK, not the fruits and veggies, because those are a given. But the yummy diet foods that I wouldn’t want to live without. The stuff that I won’t let kids or husband TOUCH without threat of harm, lest I run out. (Just kidding. I don’t threaten them. Well, I do tell them that I won’t do the grocery shopping anymore. That usually straightens them up.)

So here are some pictures of my pantry, cupboards, and fridge foods I don’t wanna diet without.
First of all…

Special K Protein Drinks. These are great for those moments when I need to eat but don't really feel like it. (I can't believe I am saying that! Who would have thunk it?) I don't care for the French Vanilla flavor, because it reminds me of baby formula. But the Strawberry and Milk Chocolate are fantastic! I try to use these sparingly, because of the cost (like only 4 a week tops), but they are worth every penny!

Next is starting the smorgasbord. Special K Protein Meal Bars, and good old Orville and his 94% fat free popcorn. OK, the meal bars first. Since I started walking across my lovely town of D-Vegas (a name we natives have dubbed it), I found that these work fantastic for the nights that I don't want to feel stuffed, but still need energy. They aren't going to make you feel full, but they will give you what you need.

And Orville... I buy these because I still get hankerins for popcorn. This is a substitute for popcorn, to be sure, but after many bags, I don't think I could ever eat movie theater popcorn again and not feel yucky. The kettle corn version is tastier than the butter, but either works in a pinch.

I admit that I purchased Laughing Cow by merit of their commercials in the beginning. What I found was an extraordinary cheese spread that is FANTASTIC on reduced fat Wheat Thins. As you can see, I keep them stocked up. I would love to tell you that it's because they were on sale, (and they were) but I just can't get enough of this happy company's products! The French Onion is hands down the taste winner, and it's worth buying in bulk. Have YOU laughed today? hee hee

Another smorgasbord grouping. Low fat Honey Maid graham crackers is up first. They are just delicious. Need I say more? Next is Walmart's version of Special K Strawberry cereal. As good as the original, but cheaper! (I do love a good deal!) Yummy and filling. And finally, Spam Lite. OK, I know that this is odd, but it is very good warmed up with some lite syrup canned pineapple and a little BBQ sauce. It's a quick fix for an old fave and I make no apologies.

What you see before you is the beginning of my heavy hitters on the diet front. Quaker High Fiber oatmeal - Maple and Brown Sugar. Needs no extra sweetner, tastes grand (especially when I put a splash of my French Vanilla coffee creamer in it!) and holds off the hunger for 5 hours, easy. GET SOME. Also, a new find from Sam's, Arnold's Sandwich Thins. These are Multi Grain, and work well for a little lunch meat and a kiss of Hellman's Lite. It's not Cracker Barrel Sourdough, but that was just a pipe dream of mine. These are wonderful and will suit this calorie pincher just fine.

Smart Squeeze. There are 6 bottles of it in my fridge. This product, which we fondly refer to as "Pretend Butter," has it all. Or maybe I should say has nothing! No fat, very few calories, and still maintains a taste of butter that keeps this butter lover churning for more. (get it? I'm so punny!) If you haven't tried this yet, you must. I use it on my bags of Steamer Veggies with a little minced garlic for a vitamin rich meal even Richard Simmons would approve of! (for the rest of the family, I buy Country Crock Lite. Because I love them and their arteries.)

And finally, the only diet food I have thrown a fit for when Matt uses it all up- my favorite coffee creamer. I put this on bowls of fresh fruits with a little strawberry yogurt to make a yummy dip, use it in my oatmeal, and the cups and cups and cups of coffee...let's just say I am a bear when I don't get my coffee, and I will not drink coffee without this. I even pack the powdered version on trips so I won't be without it. It's that important.

So, I hope this helps some of you who are just starting out, or maybe stuck in a rut and want to try something new. It certainly helps me focus on the cores of my diet and helped me weed out the unnecessary junk I had laying around.

Now, I wanna know- what's in your pantry and fridge?