Christmas in July

I am starting this blog off with a HUGE disclaimer.

I am going to use the V word. I’m not going to tell you when, but I feel since I have been in the company of one for the past 33 years, I am entitled to use the word once in a while. And this blog post contains no sexual content either. In fact, it’s content is the least sexy variety one could possibly have.

And thus begins my story.

This past week we have been in the middle of a heat wave. A real scorcher. That can’t be avoided, and other than making the off handed comment about the fact it’s hot outside, nothing can be done about the weather.

Likewise, nothing can be done about the fact mother nature decided this was the BEST POSSIBLE TIME to visit me. Of course, it always happens that way, doesn’t it?

Furthermore, I’m not sure if it was a reaction to the heat wave or what, but the past few days, I have been in utter agony from Frank and friends. Frank is the lone hemorrhoid left over from my pregnancies, and he acts up from time to time. But this week, for whatever reason, he has been joined by some cohorts in crime, and I will not even dignify them with names, as I did Frank. No sense inviting such riff-raff to hang around any longer than they must.

So the heat index is 80 gajillion degrees, I’m sweating buckets (as is everyone around me) and it hurts to walk. Makes for some uncomfortable moments, to say the least. It was only irritating at first, but as the week progressed, my uncomfortable state grew. And no amount of Preparation H was doing the trick.

Which brings me to this afternoon. In a state of nothing short of agony, I googled “home remedies for hemorrhoids” and started reading some forums. And there it was.

VICKS VAPO RUB.

And I thought to myself “Self, that seems like a right smart solution.”

I sent Matt to the Dollar General, and he picked up a bottle of Vicks for me. Cause there was no way I was going to walk across a parking lot without some backup.

He brought home the little bottle, I dropped my drawers, and slapped it on.

AND FINALLY.

A little relief.

Enough to allow me to be able to go do my job for the kids’ show tonight. Cause there were girls that needed curls and French rolls for their show “The Little Princess” and while the other mom’s could have covered for me, I felt I needed to be there.

I was walking around the house like things were almost normal. I wasn’t fast, per se, but I was moving without looking like I was 80, and that was an improvement. I felt that I had finally gotten the message across to Frank and friends that it was time to G.O. and I was willing to do whatever it takes to help them make a hasty retreat.

And in that moment of confidence and delight that the REAL trouble began. Because that’s just how my life works. I’m not complaining, mind you, simply speculating…

Like the fact that today my purse wound up with gum on the bottom of it, and I thought I got it all until someone put it on the couch for me, and realized I had missed a little. But thankfully it all went from the bottom of my purse and stuck on the couch, which was convenient.  Kinda.

Or the fact that today I dropped my favorite travel mug that says “I’m a mom, so I’ll be drinking this coffee when it’s cold” on the street outside and it busted. Like- into a million pieces busted.

That kinda stuff happens in my day to day- everyday. I’m pretty much used to it, and count it as part of my charm.

But tonight, there was no charm involved. Not even a little bit.

See, remember I said that mother nature had visited this week?

Well, 2 minutes before we had to leave, I decided to change my tampon, just to be safe.

I did not consider that Vicks Vapo Rub is a somewhat slimy greasy substance. It doesn’t necessarily stay where you put it.

It has a tendency to migrate.

Which I discovered NANOSECONDS after my tampon was in.

All of a sudden, I lifted off of the toilet seat and YELPED. It took me a moment to get my bearings because I was seeing stars. Like I had just stuck a popsicle in my whoosey-whatsy.

It was like having Christmas in my vagina.

Only the frosty feeling wouldn’t go away. Not even a little. I pulled out the offending tampon, which simply re-applied the little glob in the other direction. Then I took some toilet paper and tried to wipe some of it off. Problem was, the Vicks was EVERYWHERE, and the heat from my body just made it that much more un-viscous. No matter how much I wiped, still Vicks remained.  And still the ice like sensations continued. Waves of chills crept through my body, especially since the central AC vent is right in front of the toilet, and was blowing full blast, right in my general lower regions.

With tears in my eyes, I stood and yanked up my unders as simultaneously as a woman in my predicament could. Knowing there was no time for a bath before showtime, I simply had to make the best of my situation.

And I would have too, if it weren’t for the walking.

I never realized how much the inside of your ladyself rubs together when you walk. But with every step, I could feel the burnings (which were somewhat like ice and somewhat like fire) caused by Vicks and friction.

Left with no choice but to press on, I walked in as many steps as I could to the van, sat down, and relaxed.

Then I avoided stepping as I worked on little girls’ hair. I had them do the majority of moving and tried to stay as still as possible.

When every bow was in place and every curl was sprayed with Rave, I made my escape. Coming home, I tried to sit in a cool bath, which was anything but pleasant. But a hot bath would only antagonize Frank and friends. Finally, I decided that my only course of action was to hold ice packs on my rumpus and sit still.

So that’s exactly what I did, only I had no ice packs. Instead, I improvised by using wrapped up blocks of frozen cheese.

And I learned it takes me exactly 43 minutes to defrost a block of cheese with my butt cheeks…

and that Frank is a REAL pain in my butt.

Life as we knew it

Today is Monday.

The day when lots of folks start their diets again.

Maybe it’s you. I know for me, I’ve been sitting in the land of 150’s long enough. I’m taking this Monday as a day to begin things fresh. Yep, I’m kick starting my diet again.

This last week, with the horror-moan induced calling to eat crap, I bounced up and down all week, ranging from 152-156 the whole time. But today, I’m starting my week at 151.4, which is fairly respectable considering.

And I’ve got to think.

I have 12 pounds between me and my goal weight.

WHAT IS STOPPING ME FROM HITTING THAT GOAL?

I’ve grown comfortable with saying I’ve lost almost 90 pounds. I’ve enjoyed the feeling of buying a size 9-10 dress at the thrift store because there’s a good chance it will fit. (Which it did. The next date night Matt and I have, there will be pictures. Cause it’s AN AWESOME DRESS!) I’ve grown accustom to my face looking different, being able to feel my ribs for the first time in my life.

But I am still uncomfortable with the thought of being a girl with no more weight to lose.

I still have that feeling that Charlie must always be on the road to lose weight.

Because that’s the only road I have ever known.

So where does the road go after a diet is over, and the weight loss road has ended? I know, in the literal sense, there is then the road to maintenance- keeping yourself at goal.  

But I’m talking figuratively. The bigger picture…

What happens during a life after the diet?

I guess I’m just going to have to find out…

Taming the Dragon...

It has been a long couple of weeks since I have posted.

Normally in the dieting blog world, when a site goes dark, nothing good is happening.

But that’s not the case here.

We’ve been rocking and rolling. Lots of great things.

Like summer break with the kids, and us enjoying every moment we can. A musical for the kids. And then there’s this little guy…

Merlin, the actual puppy. We got him from a family here in town. He’s a mutt, but boy does he look like a Newfoundland… which means he’s gonna be a horse. And you may recall that one of my greatest fears happens to be dogs.

Yet I’m finding that all the things I was once afraid of are not so bad.

(Except rats. I will probably be terrified of rats forever. I make no apology for that.)

Here’s the thing. I feel like right now it’s time for me to dive into all the things I have been avoiding in my life. I’ve gone through all my “stuff” and gotten rid of all the things I held onto. Be it personal possessions or attitudes and thoughts, I’m learning to conquer everything, one battle at a time. Some battles require backup, but I’ve got a fantastic support system in place to see me through.

And here’s a video (with my camerawoman Racy Tracy laughing through it all) about me doing just that. Taming the dragon within. Except this dragon is an actual dragon…

Taming the Dragon from Charlie Hester on Vimeo.

In Living Color...

This is the picture that Jia made for me.

Well, technically, she didn't make it FOR me. She made it for her.

Because Jia is starting out at almost the same size I was- pound for pound, inch for inch.

When I look at this picture, it's hard for me to grasp the changes I see. Not only the physical elements, but the emotional ones as well.

There is a relief I see on my face now. Is my life any easier than when I started? Not really. But do I look at life differently now?

HOLY CRAPBALLS, YES I DO!!!!

There are chances I want to take. Items on my "Things to do before you turn 80" list I want to check off.


But most of all, I never want to live my life in the Black and White and Greys again.


See, the girl in the grey didn't take chances. She lived by playing it safe. She shut herself up in her house, limited her exposure to the outside world (can we say agoraphobia?) and lived happily in the comfort of her couch's butt-dent. She thought that failing was the worst thing that could ever happen to her.


But the girl in the color pictures?


She knows that failure isn't the worst thing that can happen.


The worst thing that could ever happen is sitting on her couch wondering "WHAT IF I HAD TRIED MY BEST?"


Failing at anything isn't such a bad thing. We take lessons away from our failures. We grow. We change our strategy. And most of all, we know what not to do next time.


For me, the growth I have encountered during my failures has been remarkable.


I didn't always lose weight every week.
...and I learned patience.

I didn't always succeed on particular diet plans.
...and I learned to listen closely to my body.

I didn't always like an exercise.
...and I learned to build character by returning until I liked it.

I didn't always fit into my goal clothes.
...and I learned to look back on the clothes that I shrunk out of instead.

I didn't always like the scale.
...and I learned to like the changes I saw in measurements and how I felt.


It's ok for us to be uncomfortable. It's ok to hurt. It's ok to feel hungry sometimes. It's ok to be dissapointed. But I wouldn't have known all those things unless I had failed in some way.

The girl who is grey in those pictures was afraid to try ANYTHING.

But the girl with the trashy bleached blonde hair is ready for adventure. She's ready to open up her life for something more than what she ever thought possible.

She's got living color.

Do you?

TAKE IT BACK

Every time I ever told myself I couldn’t lose weight…

I take it back.

Every time I ever beat myself up for letting my weight get so out of control…

I take it back.

Every moment I let the negative overwhelm me until I completely missed the positive…

I take it back.

Every second I let myself believe I was not a person of incredible worth…

I take it back.

All the times I believed I was unlovely…

Yep, taking it back.

Each situation I mishandled in my past, forgetting to show grace under pressure…

Taking it back, too.

Every time I forgot to love the woman within me as a unique individual instead of the mother/wife/domestic engineer description I usually fall into...

IT ALL COMES BACK.

Hi.

My name is Charlie.

I am an entirely new person, inside and out.

I believe in myself.

I trust the decisions and actions I make.

My love for food no longer consumes me or dictates my moods.

I am in control of me.

I will not expect myself to achieve perfection. If I was perfect, I wouldn’t be the person I am. Instead, when I mess up, have a rough day, or make a poor choice- I WILL FIX IT without turning to food or letting my brain beat myself up for being human. I will also learn new lessons from my mistakes- I will seek to find all the reasons why I make the choices I did and become an educated person.

Today, I will love myself a little bit more. I will not punish myself for the decisions of my past. Instead, I will embrace the fresh start of today and wipe my slate clean. Today is the day I will listen to my heart before listening to the voices and opinions of others. They can attempt to tell me what they think is best for my life, but I am the only one who makes lasting choices for me. I live in this body, and I will respect this body, this mind and this heart.

Today, I am a new person. I am in control of me.

Today, I am taking ME back.

You're a GRAND OLD FLAG

This is the court appointed week of my kids’ vacation with my ex. And it is extremely hard for me to walk around with my heart ripped in half during this week. It always is. These times of visitation are never easy for me.

But while my heart has been ripped in two, I have been taking time to explore the hurt parts of me that are still broken, still needing attention. They don’t come around, but 2 times a year, and instead of falling into the hole of depression and brokenness like I usually do, I am determined to make this the week I choose to see things differently.

Because that’s what hurt is for. To help you grow PAST who you used to be. To learn why things still hurt, and figure out the best way to heal your heart.

It has been 8 years since I took myself and my 3 babies into the women’s shelter. Back then, I was so exhausted, wounded and defeated, the fabric of my life was like a war-torn flag flying at half mast. I had been in such a dark place all those years, and was scared of the light. I was scared to look at my life in full view. Because I knew if I saw the broken woman I was at that time, I would start to ask questions.

“Why didn’t you stop this before it got to this point?”

“You have an almost genius IQ, and yet you were stupid enough to let this happen to you?”

“What did you do to cause all of this, because he said it was your fault…”

“What is wrong with you that someone would want to hit you and threaten your life?”

Those are questions I couldn’t face at that moment, freshly tucked away in the shelter. My first order of business was nothing more than primal survival. Making sure the kids had clean diapers on and were fed. Making sure they didn’t get hurt climbing up and down chairs and steps and things. Making sure I didn’t have a nervous breakdown. MAKING SURE I KEPT BREATHING, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted too. Those were the only things that concerned me.

It wasn’t until I had mastered those skills, that I was able to face the first of those questions. I hadn’t stopped it until it got to the point of violence I had because I trusted someone more than they deserved. When you only hear comments about what a waste of space you are, day after day after year, you begin to believe it.

I then moved from Survival Mode into re-discovering what was really inside the spaces of me. What makes me the person I am? This journey has been happening for a long long time, and I hope that it never stops. When I see parts of me I never knew existed, hidden behind the nooks and crannies of my heart, it still delights me!

I had no idea how much I enjoy GIVING. Blessing others with the things I’ve got. Sharing the things that I have. There were many times others shared with me when I didn’t have 2 nickels to rub together, and I remember what a blessing it was. To have things like toilet paper. Shampoo. Diapers. Coupons and gift cards for pizza places.

(Now that I am mastering the art of couponing, my goal is to begin to donate needed items back to the women’s shelter that saved our lives. Things like shampoo. Diapers. Food. Clothing. Toys. I know not all of you readers are from the Danville area, but I highly encourage you to call your local shelter for a list of needed items and pass it around to your friends to see what you can supply. You have no idea how much this blesses others, and it will bless your heart too. I PROMISE!)

My point is this. I know lots of you out there are flying the war-torn flags of your life at half mast. There are parts of you that are tattered and torn. You can keep running that flag up the pole day after day, or you can bring it down for a week and really look at it. See where it needs repair.

This week, with the kids being gone, I have brought my flag down and am really exploring it. “This is the time in my life I felt (this) after (that) happened.” And my goal is to begin to sew up the loose ends. Patch the holes. Re-dye the fabrics that were faded by harsh conditions. And after it’s been mended, I’m gonna run that bad boy right up the flag pole again and let that sucker fly. Even though my flag will never be shiny and new again, it will be my own. No one will ever try to claim that flag for themselves again.

When was the last time you really looked at your flag? When people see the flag of your life, what do they see? Do they see a confident woman (or man) who has paid attention to the details of their life? Or are there still big gaping holes that need to be tended too?

I am reading the book “When Women Walk In Faith” by Lysa TerKeurst, and she makes a great point. “Experiencing life change is not a matter of chance, it’s a matter of CHOICE…”

For me, this choice has been the one Lysa continues to describe. “…it’s a matter of CHOICE, choosing God’s ways instead of your own.” My faith has brought me through some of the darkest nights imaginable. While it is never my blog’s intent to be preachy, I encourage those of you who already have a relationship with God to really let that sit on your heart.

For those who perhaps don’t follow the same belief principles as I do, I highly encourage you to look deep inside your hearts. Begin to trust yourself. Become open to relationships with other like minded individuals that have been where you are. Look at their experiences, listen to their stories, look at the flags they fly over their lives.

Because no matter what has happened in your life- it is up to you to take care of your grand old flag.

Right now, my flag says “88 pounds down, and full of compassion.” (((GRIN)))

What about yours?    

I NEED MY VAN BACK!!!

Here's the deal.

We got the total bill for "Big Blue," our new mini-van that tanked out on me while I was driving to the airport to get to Fitbloggin. And it's $700.

We honestly don't have that. Not without taking another month to save up for it. And I'm getting desperate to get back Big Blue. Especially after I forgot to go pick up Matt at work yesterday afternoon, and left him sitting in his office for 30 minutes wondering where I was. (I was at home, painting the girls' toenails)

I started thinking of all the things I could do to raise the money. Sell a kidney, donate plasma, sell my treadmill (aka- the dreadmill) for a steal...

But even doing all of those things wouldn't get me close to the $700 mark. Well, perhaps selling a kidney would, but that's also illegal. So it's not going to happen.

Then I realized something. I wrote a book. A book I have been sitting on for over 3 years that I've never done anything with.

My Thinking Cap Ran Out of Batteries.

It's about motherhood and faith. And how to learn valuable lessons from the stunts your kids pull. It's really good. (But I'm biased. However, my mom, Margaret the Saint thinks it's good too! Wait, she's biased too...)

With the popularity of ebooks these days, there's really not much of a reason to kill a bunch of trees so I can be published on paper. And frankly, did I mention I'm getting desperate to get my van back?

SO...

I'm asking if you will buy my book.
(Purty Please?)

It's not even expensive. Only $9.99!


Here's the thing. I have set up a paypal merchant button on the top left hand of the blog, under the header. You will see where it says "Buy Now." If you click it, you can use pay pal or a major credit card to make your purchase. Make sure you list your email address in "notes to seller." Then, I will email you a copy of my book.

Here's the disclaimer. I don't have it available for devices like Nooks and Kindles. YET. But any money that I make over what I need to get the van back, I promise I will invest into making that happen. What you will get for the low low price of $9.99 is a document mailed to you in Word format. (I'm making chicken soup out of chicken poop, folks. It's what I've got.) If you have an issue with the format you get, just shoot me an email and I'll send you the kind you need.

Want to try before you buy? I posted a sample chapter of Thinking Cap a while back. This is Chapter 4, called TORNADO, and feel free to go back and read it before you decide. :) It is a Christian book, but it's funny and heartwarming and touching too. I grew a lot as a mother writing this book. So you might like it. It's about 100 pages long, so if you are thinking about printing it out, I want to give you fair warning.

HERE'S THE BEST PART.
I only need to sell 70 copies to get Big Blue back. THAT'S IT!!! I know I've asked you readers for lots of support emotionally, but this feels different. If I didn't think the book was good, I wouldn't do this. But I know this book means a lot to me. And since you are here, you know I don't suck so bad as a writer.

Maybe maybe maybe, could you pretty please with whipped cream and a cherry on top give me and my book a chance?

It just might bolstier my confidence enough to start working on "The Ultimate Fatgirl's Guide to Losing Weight and Not Hating it Too Much..." obviously that's the working title!

Much love,
Van-less Charlie

The Welcome Matt

Dear Matt-

I am writing this letter to you in a public place because I want the entire world to know how I feel about you. I think that when you love somebody it shouldn’t be a secret, and the world needs to know what a wonderful man you are.

When we first met, I brought an entire lifetime of baggage. I didn’t trust “love,” I had no self esteem on a regular basis, and quite frankly, I was a mess. But somewhere in the hot mess I was, you scooped me up and found me lovely. Worth loving. You were the first man who ever found me deserving of a true love.

And I fought you on it. We both know that. I questioned your intentions, I argued your methods of loving me, and I kicked and screamed against you, all the while craving what you brought to my life. It wasn’t because you were doing things wrong. I just had no idea what true loved really looked like. I couldn’t pick a deep and lasting relationship out of a line up with only 2 choices. I was utterly clueless.

And through it all, you loved me. More and more every day. You let me kick and scream and fight you on stupid things. You let me peel off and show you the layers of me, one painful insecurity at a time. With every mask I removed, your love only intensified for me. I don’t know why, because the parts of me you saw weren’t pretty. They weren’t lovely. They were broken and scared, terrified with each new “part” of me that you would go running for the hills.

Yet it was to my intense delight, each of these moments made you run TOWARD me. You wrapped me in your arms and reminded me that I was safe. I was loved and desired. There was no place I could go where you would not come after me.

I know that you are not a Christian, but baby, your love is more Christ-like than you will ever realize. In my heart, when I think about the love and kindness of my King, I am reminded of his champion. YOU. Even though your don’t intend for it to do so, your love has taught me to love God in a deeper way. It was your love that helped me trust God could love me like He does. I know that it’s supposed to be the other way around, God’s love changing us so we can love others, but I have never been the girl who does things in the right order anyway. However it all came down, God brought you into my life at the time I needed you most. I didn’t necessarily think I wanted the kind of love you had for me, but I can see now how much I NEEDED your love in my life. I needed the whole and complete love to be demonstrated in my life. It was then that I really began to want to be the kind of spouse you are to me in return.

So, here are a few things I love completely about you.

1. The way you provide for our family.

I know we don’t always have great things. Most of our belongings are glued together or duct taped. Or stained. And I know sometimes our money doesn’t stretch out as far as we need it too. I never really thought about how that stresses you out, especially when I am buying things I “think” we need but can really live without. Yet you never complained about the purchases I thought were important. Instead, you just tried to figure out a better way to manage things, not manage me. We both know you are MUCH better with money than me, and even though I knew that, I never loved that about you before. But knowing how important that is to you, I love it now. And I will knock off the extra spending and clip coupons till I’m blue in the face if it helps remind you what a fantastic provider you are.  You go into work every day without complaining, or needing to be prodded. You don’t work long hours like some men have too, and you always come home ready to be super daddy and mega husband. I am amazed at the level of generosity you have towards us- and to others. You are a wonderful provider.

2. The kind of Daddy you are.

The role of a step-parent is hard. You could have been one of those guys that comes into a family and says “I’m hands off- they are YOUR kids.” But from the first week, when 4 year old Natalie threw up all over your legs and into your hands as you tried to catch it, you have been the very best kind of parent. You are compassionate, tender, and patient- which is a rare combination in this day and age. Even when the kids are bouncing off the walls (as they often do) you deal with the chaos like a pro. When the kids have questions, you don’t make up answers so you look like a know-it-all. Instead, you work with them to find the correct answers and learn right alongside the kids. It takes a big man to admit he doesn’t know something in front of his kids. But you make everything fun. You take the time to let them learn how to do new tasks, even when that means the job is going to take twice as long as you originally intended. You never chastise them for the learning curve they have, or make them feel like they are doing something wrong. Instead, you are a constant source of encouragement for them to expand their wings. I look at the way our family behaves, and it warms my heart. Our kids aren’t afraid to live in this home. We are not ruled here with an iron fist. Instead, you have made sure we are safe and secure and all of us know we are loved. I am amazed at the kind of Daddy you are, and I love you all the more for it.

3. You are the Dream Weaver

This is one of the most important things for me. One day, the kids will grow up and move out. And it will just be you and I in the house. That is why I cannot thank you enough for not only encouraging me, but insisting that I pursue my dreams. Neither one of us want to wake up 20 years from now and wonder why we never took a chance at something we wanted. And you have made it clear that right now is my turn to chase down my dream of being a bonafide author and speaker. You allow me the freedom to write and make music and create. When my first article was published in P31 Magazine, you celebrated with me, cheering me on to continue what I was doing! If it hadn’t been for you reminding me that not only do I have talents, but it’s my job to use them, I would never have reached for the stars. I never realized my dreams were so important until you allowed me to keep dreaming bigger. And to keep reaching for it. The most amazing words you have ever spoken to me (besides “You are SAFE.” That’s number 1) were “I believe in you and what you can do. Go for it.” THOSE WORDS gave me a freedom I have never known. You made my dreams important, and for that I owe you more than either of us can ever pay. (Even though you are a fantastic provider!) Thank you, my darling, for believing in me.

4. The size of my Love

You loved me completely when I was the fattest I have ever been. You loved me unconditionally when I was depressed about my body. You made me feel beautiful, inside and OUT. And the fact that I’m skinnyish now hasn’t changed how you feel about me. Granted, it’s changed how I feel about me, which has allowed our love to intensify… but your love has been as constant as the stars above. You do not place limits or conditions on your love. You love me for the sake of loving me. That only makes me love you more. What a beautiful cycle that has become, huh?

I hope after reading this post, you are encouraged, my love. I could live without you, but I don’t ever want too. Thank you for being my best friend, my partner, my biggest fan, and my husband.

All my love forever-

Sugar Butt

The Weigh things have CHANGED...

Yep. I’m talking about THE BIG change.

No, not menopause…

The change from fat to skinny.

Apparently I’m there. Over the past few days, I have been in various social situations where I have come into contact with people who haven’t seen me for a while. And the reactions have been interesting.

“WOAH. You are looking great!”

“I can’t believe how incredible you look!”

“Man, you have really changed!”

Now, I would like to think all of this is because I am happy and smiling more. Because I feel more like the me I’m supposed to be than I ever have before.

 But it’s not.

People are remarking on the change they see- because my body has finally given over to the fact I’m sticking with this diet thing till the bitter end. And it’s bending to my will at last.

So on the outside, I guess things look really different. (Indulge me for a quick before and after photo session, for I cannot resist... lol)

But on the INSIDE, well, that’s where things are the most different.

But you can’t see that part in a before and after picture.

One of the phrases that stuck with me the most from Fitbloggin was when my darling friend Karen said “It’s about learning not to let the food control you, then learning how to not control the food.”

And that’s where I am.

Food doesn’t have power over me. But more importantly, my life isn’t hyperfocused on controlling my food intake either.

I still eat potato chips. The occasional breadbowl from Dominos. Chocolate cake. French Fries.

But I’ve learned how to stop stressing out over the fact I chose to eat those things. They aren’t any more or less fuel for my body than an apple, asparagus, broccoli, or skinless chicken breasts. It’s all just food to me.

They aren’t trigger foods, emotional escapes, or crutches anymore.

And I have a healthier relationship with food now than I’ve ever experienced in my entire life!

I know that lots of you on the journey of weight loss aren’t there yet. And that’s ok. It’s taken me since 2009 on this nutty diet to get there myself. And if you go back in my archives, you will be assured this feeling about food wasn’t the case for a long long time. It was a process. A really long irritating heartbreaking frustrating process. (Which was only exacerbated by owning a scale and having to take the lumps for emotional eating… which made me want to eat more… you know the cycle just as well as me.)

But now that I’m here, I refuse to let myself put food on a pedestal again. It will never hold me captive on the couch again. I’m running free now. I’ve broken out of my own fat prison.

So if you see me out and about, and want to comment on how much my body has changed, that’s totally fine. I’ll tell you I’ve lost 84 pounds (ALMOST AT 85, just ounces away!!!) and might even do a little spin.

But you can’t see the most important part of it all.

I FEEL FANTASTIC. I’m in control of all the things I should be, and have let go of the things I have no business trying to control. For the first time in my life, I’m proud of the body I’ve got- backfat, stretch marks, flabby arms and all. I’m not going to say things can’t get better, because I will never limit my opportunities for success again. Life is pretty gosh darn spectacular for me right now, but the sky really is the limit for where things can go from here!

And THAT, my friends, is the best part about the weigh things have changed!!!

Charlie goes to the Airport: TAKE 2

This video chronicles my journey to get home from FitBloggin.

 

The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl and her sidekick Goober Charlie

*Note to readers: There are going to be a few posts about Fitbloggin over the next 2 weeks. It’s taking me a long time to process this info, plus I have the added stress of UNPACKING MY DANG HOUSE, but I promise not to let these get boring. You know that’s a promise I can keep!

You all might recall I have a hard time meeting people I really admire. I get nervous, palms get sweaty, I say stupid things… the usual. And with the added pressure of KNOWING FULL WELL I was gonna meet Dietgirl, well, let’s just say in usual Charlie fashion, I was a mess about it.

After getting to the airport on Thursday and the fiasco that all was, including the 1.5 hour shuttle ride to GET from the airport to the hotel, well, it was just rough. I felt rough. I felt discombobulated. And I wanted just one glass of wine to calm me down.

So I get to the fitbloggin mixer, found my roomie for the night, Steve (more on the fabulous roomies in a later post), and we dropped off my luggage in the room. Then we headed back over to the hotel restaurant so I could get some food. And Steve told me there was a group of us meeting there.

A group? MORE LIKE FREAKING DIET BLOG ROYALTY!

MizFit, Dietgirl, JackSht, Karen Anderson, Christie Inge… the big ones. The ones I’ve been stressing about meeting.

So I’m sitting there at the table, trying to look all cool (after I did the Wayne’s world ‘I’m not worthy’ move at JackSht’s feet. No lie. I’m humble like that.) and not act like I was ready to pee my pants from the excitement of it all.

That was when the waiter, who speaks no-good English, brought the bread and butter. Only the butter looked like a thin wedge of cheese. And there was something totally shaped like a ball on the plate next to the butter.

“Excuse me, sir, but what is this ball thing?”

“It’s crap.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Crap.”

(Translation from not-good English to English: CRAB)

Well, that (plus the glass of white wine) totally sent me into fits of giggles. Didn’t matter if I was sitting right across from Dietgirl (whose name is Shauna, BTW). I had no composure to keep my mouth from running. So I kinda acted like a goober. Plus, Shauna’s accent is so flipping adorable! Not to mention the moments we are speaking the same language, but it’s different words for different things. Just had me cracking up with obnoxious laughter! Plus, she was very interested in my uber red lips, and how I make it work since red is a hard color to keep on your lips. We had a discussion about that!

Sending her a direct tweet later that night (cause we’ve been exchanging DMtweets!), I told her this: ‘Sorry I acted like such a goober tonite. I’m still a little star struck!’

(Understatement of the year)

To which she tweeted me back and assured me she didn’t think I acted like a goober and was perfectly fine. Bless her heart.

On Friday, there was the 5K (which I slept through), Zumba (which clearly as the picture illustrates, I was working hard at…watching Jack throw apple cores in the hotel hallway...)

The "I'm not going into that Zumba Room" Club 

L to R: Me, JackSht, and Tracey Jones

(Photo by Susan Ito, AKA FoodieMcBody)

And finally, the evening affair I’d been waiting for: The solo performances of Foodie McBody and Paolo Sambrano. Guess who sat at my table? SHAUNA.

See?

From L to R: Shauna, Karen Anderson, Tracey Jones, and Christie Inge

And she was just as sweet and funny as she was the first night. I was a little less goober-rific. Not much, but a little.

On Saturday, I went to the “Intuitive Eating” session, which Shauna was moderating. And the session as a whole was so much more than I could have dreamed. By far my favorite session of the weekend. Intuitive eating is about listening to the cravings of your body and entering moderation into the mix: Essentially, not letting the food control you, but not forcing you to control the food either.

Shauna started talking about the fact that she bought some KitKat bars, and they had been sitting on the counter for a while. She decided she would finally eat them, and offered some to her husband. Half to be exact.

The story went on that her hubs said, “Are you sure you want to share?”

To which Shauna said, “Oh, yeah, cause 2 fingers is enough for me.”

CLASSIC LOST IN TRANSLATION MOMENT. I didn’t think about KitKats having fingers, but they kinda do! Of course, being sleep deprived and giddy, my brain didn’t interpret it that way. NOOOOOOOOOO. I went into the gutter with it. And started CRACKING UP SNORTING.

About that time, you saw the wave of laughter working its way through the crowd. And Shauna was the last person to get it- I blame the lost in translation, because she’s smart as a whip. Which made it even funnier!

So of course, later that day during MY session with JackSht and Mrs.Fatass, I had to whisper that into the mic.

Just once.

“2 fingers worth.”

And everyone who had been at the Intuitive Eating session burst into laughter.

Shauna caught me in the hallway later and said something like “I heard you mentioned my 2 fingers and now everyone’s talking about it!”

I just nodded my head and grinned, because it really was one of the funniest lines I had ever heard!

We decided that later that night she was gonna stop by our hotel room and have a cocktail with us. SQUEEEEEEE! So we kinda got things together in our room. I ran down to the hotel store (AKA Overpriced Gas Station) and got a bottle of Bud Light and some orange juice. I wasn’t about to drink tequila like the rest of the gang. Noooooo, I’m too much of a lightweight for that. I needed just a little. So Beer and OJ, which we call a “poor man mimosa” was in order. I also picked up a little gift for Shauna, just in case she really did stop by.

Pretty soon, my phone tweet alert went off:

Shauna-  Are you still going up there? :)

Charlie- Yes, and I have a silly gift for you up here!!! Come on up!

Immediately the energy in the room intensified. It was me, Mrs. Fatass, Steve, and Sean. And we all just had one collective crap our pants moment. The flurry of excitement  exploded in our 21^st floor hotel digs. “She’s coming! OMGosh! Shauna is gonna hang out with us!”

Of course, when she walked into the room, we were cool as cucumbers. All our hearts were racing, but Shauna? She kicked off her shoes, plopped down on a bed, and was even more awesome than I could have imagined!

I told her I was so thrilled, and I felt like I was meeting diet royalty, and her response was (and imagine her saying it with an Australian accent, cause that makes it even cuter)… “That’s just shite. I’m not royalty, I only went on this journey before you did.” If there were ever words that would make me love her more, those were it. Because she DOESN’T have a big head about things. She is a published author, wildly popular podcaster, and long time blogger with a huge following. Yet, there she was, kicking back like the rest of us, enjoying her poor man mimosa I made for her.

And the silly gift I had for her? It was a king size KitKat. (Hilarious to give someone at a health and wellness blog convention…) And her words about that were ones I will never forget.

“There must be AT LEAST SIX FINGERS in here!”

PRICELESS.

(I was cheesing SOOOO HARD!!!)

Shauna is one of the most wonderful people I have ever met. Warm and sweet, funny and smart, and so beautiful. Of all the “famous people” I’ve ever met, she is top of the list.

And I’m happy to have been her gooberific sidekick. Even if it was just for the weekend.

You can purchase Shauna’s book, The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl, and I highly suggest you do. It's a read you will NEVER forget!

The first leg of Fitbloggin: Charlie goes to the airport

It was a beautiful Thursday morning. I kissed my kids and husband goodbye, hopped into Big Blue (the new used van we have made exactly one, count 'em, ONE payment on...) and headed off to the interstate exit. I had made sure there was gas and oil the night before, so I had no reason to stop.

Low carb Monster energy in one cup holder, coffee in the other. No Doubt CD in the radio. Phone charging in the lighter thingy. Airport itinerary and ID's easily accessible. Packed to the gills and cape in suitcase.

I WAS UNSTOPPABLE! On my way to Fitbloggin!!!

That is until Big Blue made a weird noise. She seemed to still be going, and I was almost to the halfway point of getting to the airport (almost 2 hours away), so I slowed down a little. Maybe that was all she needed.

But then I realized I was going a little too slow for interstate driving. (Thank you drivers behind me by informing me with "polite honking." I didn't realize I was having a problem till you brought it to my attention...)
I had the gas pedal to the floor, and at 45 miles an hour and slowing, I realized something was SERIOUSLY wrong with Big Blue. I flipped on my hazards and coasted to the shoulder of the road. As soon as I came to a complete stop, Blue died.

I figured maybe if I sat there for 5 minutes, willing the problem away, there would no longer be a problem. (For the record, that was how I also dieted for a LONG time...) 5 minutes passed, and with all the confidence in the world, having sufficiently prayed the name of Jesus over my van, I knew my van would start.

Only it didn't. It was dead as a doornail.

Now, here was my dilemma. If I CALLED someone, and then the van started, it would all be for nothing, and I didn't want to bother anyone. But on the other hand, if Blue was down for the count, that was precious time I would have to get to the airport so I wouldn't miss my flight. Kind of a catch 22.

I decided to wait one more round of 5 minutes to see if I was in real trouble or not.

Yep, I was in trouble.

Now, here's the weird thing. Up until this exact moment, my cell phone was in a dead zone. No service, no signal. Nada. Zip. I looked at my phone, then up to the sky and yelled "I NEED YOU TO THROW ME A FREAKIN BONE!" (Me and Jesus are tight, so He doesn't take offense to me talking like that. He understands me.) And when I looked back down, not only did I have 4 bars of reception, but I had 3G internet to boot.

Springing into action, I got on facebook.

Status: Van broken down on I74 on way to the airport. Suggestions?

Next, I called our insurance provider. We have roadside assistance for this EXACT reason. All our cars are crap and have to be towed at least 2 times a year. Tow truck was on it's way. She asked me where I would like to have it towed, but the airport was not an acceptable response. Fine, to Wilson's Garage in Crawfordsville. I'd never heard of them, but whatever.

Rechecked facebook. "Call AAA. Call your Insurance. You poor thing."

Called Matt. Not a great conversation, but vehicles never break down when it's convenient. He was stressed out, and worried about my safety. And me getting to Fitbloggin. (He's the best!) He offered to take the rest of the day off to drive me, but truth be told, our white van is in worse shape than Big Blue. (Well, not at that particular moment, but you know what I mean...) I told him I'd try to figure out something.

Recheck facebook. There's a message from Sonnia.

"Call me if you need me to give you a ride to the airport-SERIOUSLY!!"

I really didn't have many other options at this point. And while it killed me to have Sonnia take me, I was desperate enough to get there. I mean, Dietgirl was going to be there! And we were going to meet!

So I called her.

And she said she was going to leave her house in 5 minutes to rescue me.

Meanwhile, the tow truck showed up, got me loaded, and we headed back to the garage. Knowing Sonnia was on her way to fetch me, I asked if he could PRETTY PLEASE drop me off at whatever was closest to the interstate exit so that it would be an easy place for Sonnia to find. He agreed, and I was dropped off at a truck stop.

While at the truck stop, I called Delta Airlines and told them what had happened. They were AWESOME. (And after later installments of this story, you will learn why I will fly Delta for the rest of my life...) They told me to go to the ticket counter as soon as I finally got to the airport, and they would have me on the next flight out of there.

Then, 30 minutes after I called, Sonnia rolled up her glam white sunglasses and big honkin' SUV. My girl knight coming to save the damsel in da' stress. Emphasis on STRESS. She loaded me up, and before I knew it we were on our way to the airport.

"I saw all these people offering you suggestions like triple A, and I thought "Why isn't anybody HELPING her? Wait, all I have to do today is go to the grocery store! I CAN HELP HER!!!"

And I thanked her lots, and we chitchatted the rest of the way to the airport. Before I knew it, we were at the correct exit, and she turned to go into the parking garage. Honestly, I kinda figured she would just drop me off and bolt. But, nay, I got the full service girl knight. She was determined to see me into the airport and make sure I got a flight out of there. As frustrated and stressed as I was, I was so grateful she came in. It was really nice to know I had a friend by my side, making sure I was ok.

I got new plane tickets, and then we girls had a Starbucks and sat down for a bit. If you ever get stranded, I sincerely hope someone like Sonnia comes to rescue you. She took my nutso situation and made it kinda fun!

We said our goodbyes and I hugged her tightly. That was an amazing gesture of friendship, and I cannot thank her enough for all she did for me last Thursday. As I got on the plane and we took off, I watched the sky and marveled about how wonderful my life, even with the craziness, really is.

Big Blue will be waiting at the mechanic's for a while. $1000 to fix the dumb thing. Remember how many payments we have made on her? ONE. Frustrating? Yes. But can we get around it and save up the cash to get her out of garage hock eventually? You betcha.

Cause we have a wonderful life. Even when it's stranded halfway to the airport.

Come back tomorrow night to read the second leg of Fitbloggin: Charlie the Goober.

Twas the night before Fitbloggin...

So tomorrow.

I’m flying on a plane. Staying in a hotel room with people I’ve never met. Taking shuttles and doing the airport parking thing. Going to a conference. Participating in Fitbloggin 11.

Without anybody there to hold my hand.

WOWOWOWOWOW.

How far I’ve come!

When I attended SheSpeaks a few years back, I almost had a panic attack every hour on the hour just thinking about it. I stressed over what to wear, where to go, and even how to act (cause I get nervous being myself in new groups of people).

But this time?

It feels totally different.

I wasn’t invited to come because of who I might be or who I would become. I was invited to come because of who I am RIGHT NOW. This blonde haired, shrinking, stressed out, hot mess of a girl. THAT’S THE CHARLIE people want to meet. And that’s exactly who they will get. Because I don’t think I have the energy left to put on pretenses and be somebody else.

More importantly-

I DON’T WANT TO BE ANYBODY ELSE.

I kinda like me.

I like who I am.

I like that I laugh a lot and it makes me snort. I like that sometimes I forget words and my brain grasps at straws for a second, which makes me look like I’m really thoughtful instead of forgetful. I like that everything people say reminds me of a song, and there’s a pretty good chance I will bust out a verse. I like that I always slip and almost fall, at least once a day (if I don’t actually fall). I like that I sweat constantly because my metabolism is burning so hot.

And it’s not been easy to learn to like me. But somehow, through this silly little blog, I’ve learned how to do it. I’ve taught myself that being Charlie isn’t such a bad thing after all.

If you are going to meet me in person this weekend at Fitbloggin, there are a couple caveats you should be aware of. I’ll run you down the list.

1. I will most likely do something embarrassing to myself and potentially others around me. If you are in the danger zone, you can either run for cover, or stick around and enjoy the show. It’s all part of my “charm.”

2. I will say pretty much anything. Nothing that falls out of my mouth shocks me, but it might shock you.

3. I WILL LAUGH AT ANYTHING I SEE OR HEAR.

4. I will probably smell like a man for the weekend, because girl deodorants don’t work on me, so I’m snagging my hubby’s speed stick for men. This is for your protection. YOU’RE WELCOME!

5. I will hug you without batting an eye... BUT I have a personal space issue. Hug me tight, and when it’s over, make sure there is room for an entire person to fit between us, and stay in your dance space while I stay in mine.

6. I have some hearing loss, so I read lips to help me know what you are saying. This is especially important in large groups of people. If I can’t see your mouth, I will probably ask you to play repeater until I figure out what in the Sam Hill you are saying. If you call my name from across the room, there’s a good chance I won’t hear it. I’m not ignoring you. Feel free to come up and tap me on the shoulder to get my attention.

7. Speaking of attention… I get distracted easily. I am famous for starting sentences and NEVER FINISHING THEM. Again, this is all part of my charm, so enjoy it. (Look, a squirrel!)

8. I will go through various stages of dressed like a bum to dressed to the nines. I have many different looks. From shabby homeless to runway ready. And if I have a booger hanging or something in my teeth, you can tell me. I’d rather know than walk around all day looking like a dork.

9. If I get a text from my husband or kids, all attention will shift to that momentarily. They are my first priority, even if I’m gone. Nothing personal, but I’m not married to you and didn’t give birth to you either. If I did, then I must have been on some SERIOUS medications, cause I don’t remember it.

10. I LOVE making new friends! But there are lots of you to meet, and I’m HORRIFIC with remembering names. Please have your nametag on! Also, I don’t want to miss meeting anybody, so I plan to circulate as much as I can. But you are welcome to join in and work the room with me!  

OK, I think that’s about it for now! I need to go pack, and get ready for the big day.

By this time tomorrow, I’ll be Baltimore bound!

FITBLOGGIN,

HERE I COME!!!!

Mayday! Mayday!

The month of May appears to be "Let's see how close we can push Charlie to the edge" month!

On Wednesday, we were extended the offer to move into my brother and Tricky Nikki's old house until we get all the credit score issues taken care of and can move into our forever house. And we said yes.

SO WE ARE MOVING. TODAY AND TOMORROW.

The bonuses of moving there are pretty extensive:
Jetted Jaccuzi Tub
4 Bedrooms
2 Toilets (hallelujah!)
No leaky roof
No basement that backs up with sewer water every time we turn around
Knowing that I can relax at night because there's a security system installed in the house.
CENTRAL AIR!!!!

It's really a great move for our family, and we are excited. But it's going to take a ton of work to get us over there. So I need to get off here and get back to packing.

And 2 other weightloss related things:
I hit 155. And that brings me to 83 pounds lost.
I am currently wearing a pair of size 6 jeans. Thank you, sweet baby Jesus, for LYCRA.

Please, keep us in your prayers and good thoughts over the next few days, and if you can come help us move, we won't turn down the help. Tomorrow is the actual moving day, starting about 1pm after church, and today I'm just kicking around packing. Just send me an email with your name and phone number at oscbb@yahoo.com and I'll tell you where to come hang out and help. :)

Back to work. And I'm off...

Foiled Again...

Today I am taking a break from my regularly scheduled humor and inspiration.

This post has nothing whatsoever to do with dieting. If you are here for the first time checking me out, I promise not all my posts are so serious as this one is. And I can prove it.

You can look here…

http://oscbb.blogspot.com/2009/06/charlies-sweaty-balls-and-ymca.html

…or here…

http://oscbb.blogspot.com/2010/10/says-means-and-hears.html

Or if it’s weight loss inspiration you’re after, pop over here…

http://oscbb.blogspot.com/2011/01/plus-side-of-looking-like-crap-in.html

I think maybe today’s message might be inspirational, but as I’m still writing it, I can make no guarantees. It’s a crap shoot at this point.

But today, I have to take care of some emotional housecleaning. Because today was a big day in our house. I’m going to break this down as well as I can without getting sued for “slander.” (Even though the truth isn’t slander.) For the purpose of this blog, I shall refer to myself as Y.

X has been dishonest about a certain peanut payment X owes Y, and has been for more than 3 years. More like 6.

Y gets a call from Z offering to help collect said payment.

Y realizes that the amount owed to her by X should be between 30-50 thousand packing peanuts.

Y shows up to court today.

Y tells the truth.

Z is wonderful through it all, and very supportive.

X does everything in X’s power to make Y look bad.

X walks out of court only owing 6 thousand packing peanuts.

Y also gets lectured in court, and pinned for a greedy woman.

Y is DUMBFOUNDED.

And for the record, Y is really tired of being the nice guy.

Helen Keller said “I long to accomplish a great and noble task; but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble.”

How I WISH that the whole of my day had gone better. I wish that for once, someone is being held accountable for actions besides me. I wish that I could get to be the fun, rich parent once in a while. It would have been nice if we had achieved something great today.

But that’s not my lot in life, it seems. Instead, I get to grin and smile through the small tasks- the homework, the laundry, the bedtimes, the constant bickering, the hurt knees and hurt hearts. I get the opportunity to show my kids love through SERVICE, through COMPASSION, through STRENGTH OF CHARACTER, and through GRACE UNDER FIRE. And frankly, that’s better for them than a bank account chock full of money anyway.

As much as we could have used the extra help, as nice as it would have been to have the chance to take a vacation to somewhere swanky and fun, I get to have daily teaching moments with my babies. When we show them that fun isn’t only found on a roller coaster or an airplane or at a resort somewhere. Fun can be about curling hair in the bathroom, and going googley over a picture they have drawn, and playing “zombie touch football” in the yard.

I know that we are doing more good by teaching them to clip coupons and hold on to their money, and to wait patiently for things they want. I don’t want them to be the kinds of adults who grow up expecting things to magically fall into their laps. And if this is the way God allows me to teach that lesson, I’m going to take it with gratitude. And with THANKFULNESS. God has provided us with an ABUNDANCE of blessings- a safe and happy home, full of love and joy, with an extended family and circle of friends that is amazing beyond belief. Who needs the extra money? Our family has already hit the jackpot!

Maybe you have someone like X in your life. Somebody who is always trying to put the screws to you, to make you look bad or constantly tearing you down. That person only has control over you if you let them. It has taken me a long time to come to this place in my life- but the actions of others, while annoying and irritating, can either make you lose your mind or make you better. I’m choosing to be effected positively through this experience.  So I’m on the hunt for the silver lining. Unfortunately, in this particular case, I had to provide my own aluminum foil.

And that’s the secret to life. If you can’t find the positive things, you create your own.

Here are mine for the day:

1. No amount of money could ever compare to what my children are worth. I would lay down my life for them without batting an eye.

2. My husband, who technically has no biological claim to these kids, feels EXACTLY THE SAME WAY. Double Blessing.

3. This issue from court today that was “taken care of" in no way, shape, or form effects us as parents. It changes NOTHING. Our love was never contingent on the outcome. Likewise, our love for the kids is not contingent on the future choices the kids will make. NOTHING could ever make us stop loving them- past, present, or future.

4. I found coupons for foil. Handy. (As I imagine I might need to stock up.)

5. Every single time someone like X causes drama in my life, it only reassures me that by choosing Matt to be my husband, partner, and best friend- I made the best decision of my life. Tonight I apologized to Matt that I came into our relationship with so much baggage. (And FYI, I do NOT mean the kids.) He looked into my eyes and he said, “You. Are. WORTH. IT.” He is filled with more integrity in his hairy little toe than someone else possesses in his entire body. And that’s saying a lot.

6. I walked into that courtroom today knowing that I have lost 82 pounds. And even dealing with the last month of buildup for the court date, finding out we weren’t pregnant, losing a dear friend, having a roof that the landlord never seems to fix, and getting stalled out on purchasing a house: Through it all, I didn’t emotionally eat. I’m kinda proud of me for that!

7. God knows every single tear I have cried over those children, desperately trying to be the best mom I can. He thinks I can handle more. Ergo, God has more confidence in me that I imagined. I am honored. (I also think He’s highly overestimating my abilities. Just sayin….)

8. And finally- Yes, Judge- I AM GREEDY. I am greedy for my kids to grow up to be the best people this community has ever seen. I want to watch them change lives of others around them, be it through politics, art, music, or even digging ditches. Whatever they choose to do with their lives, I want them to encourage others. To be honest and forthright. To be people that do the right thing, even when it stings like a mother effer. (Cause, trust me folks, this HURTS.) And the only way the kids will learn those character traits is IF THEY SEE THEM LIVED OUT. Guess who has 2 thumbs and gets to do that? THIS GAL!!!!

So blessings abound, even in this seemingly unfair place I’m at in life. Yes, it sucks, but it could be worse. I'm counting my blessings.

When life foils you-

Don’t ever be afraid to FOIL it right back.  

Charlie VS Glamour

Last night was one of those nights I will never forget.

Matt (the hubs) was joking with me about the differences between men and women. Men are visual, and women are emotional. He had already lavished emotional praises over me throughout the day. So I decided it was my job as a good little wifey to drive the man to utter distraction with some visual. Oh, and for me to do that while he was on stage during his opening night performance of “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels.”

 Cause I’m ornery like that. Plus, it’s wise to keep the home fires burning hot.

And so began the arduous process of my hair and makeup routine.  Vintage hair… rolled and pinned and sprayed to infinity. Makeup…false eyelashes and winged liner and lip stains. Powder and highlight base and shimmer shadows. Ben Nye FINAL SEAL (best product EVER, by the way) to set it all in permanent place.

Once that was done (and we won’t discuss how long I obsessed over it last night. Not from vanity, but because I know what get’s my husband’s motor revving. Besides me being in the same room and other having things to do, of course…) I started the next process of dressing.

See, I’m still dealing with the Orb of Mystery. It’s better, but I’m still kinda poochy. Every time I start getting stressed out, it pops back out a bit. So my pretend pregnancy is stress related. I am doing everything I can to stay calm at all times, lest my tummy jumps back from a 3 month bulge to a 6 month globe of disaster. Which really fowls up my wardrobe choices.

Nevertheless, last night was a reason to pull out the big guns. And by big guns I mean big girdles. I don’t do Spanx or other kinds. I do hardcore vintage 25 hook girdles. And I use more than one at a time.

The secret to smooth girdle wearing is to layer them so you get the biggest bang for your minimizing buck. I begin with underwear and a firmly secured poise pad. This is because when wearing multiple girdles, you can’t always whip yourself free and make it to the potty in time. (Lesson I’ve learned MANY TIMES OVER.) Next, I put on the smallest of the girdles. Then the next one, which covers a little more of my back rolls. (Not as bad as they used to be, but are a consequence of wearing binding garments.) Lastly, I put on the smooth line girdle, with no hooks, to help camouflage the bajillions of hooks and eyes.

Finally the dress. My new Cherry dress I found on ebay. ADORABLE. And perfect to drive the hubs crazy. I put it on, it zipped up and looked FANTASTIC. Threw on my favorite red shoes, and headed outside where I had Amy, our oldest daughter, take a pic. Here’s the end result of all my hard work.

I know. I clean up pretty good.

After taking the pics, I grabbed my jean jacket and we jumped into the van. My neighbor (and high school friend) Beth was outside. I decided I needed a second opinion before walking out in public in a teeny tiny dress. (It’s teeny for me, as I usually don’t wear sleeveless.) Since they live just a few houses down and I was wearing mega heels, I drove down to her driveway, hopped out and asked “OK, am I too old to be wearing a dress like this? Do I look totally slutty?” For the record, I asked this because I try to keep my wardrobe balanced between kindergarten teacher and prostitute. It’s a tough balancing act on nights like this one.

Beth assured me I didn’t look like I was going to be propositioned, and I felt much better.

That was when I heard the words that changed my entire night.

From the van, ALL 3 OF MY KIDS YELLED OUT:

“MOM, YOUR DRESS IS UNZIPPED!”

I felt my backside, and sure enough, the dress was unzipped. I giggled and asked if Beth could zip me back up. Her husband, of course was sitting on the front porch, laughing. He’s met me. He understands.

As I turned around and Beth went to zip me back up, she made the sound.

"UH-OH. Charlie, your zipper is BROKEN.”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT? Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap!”

I had NO back up dress planned. I had 15 minutes to get my kids dinner at a drive thru, drop them off at Tricky Nikki’s house, and get all the way across town. No time to change.

And that’s when Beth asked me the question I’ve been asking myself for YEARS.

“Why does this kinda stuff always happen to you?”

I have no idea. Maybe it’s cause I can handle it like a pro. Maybe it’s cause my magnetic personality is actually only attracting bad luck. Whatever the reason, I was stuck with a broken dress.

I did some mental math, and realized that the jean jacket I had brought “just in case I got cold” was now going to be a full time member of my ensemble. But I wasn’t about to let that ruin my night. I still looked cute from the front.

I jumped back in the car, got dinner for the kids, and dropped them off. I headed to the theatre, and as I got out of the car, I put on my jacket. Which USED to fit me fine. Now, it hangs on me like a potato sack. Not the cute I was expecting. But I was willing to work with it. Necessity was my wardrobe tonight. And at least I didn’t have to button it. The dress could still be seen if I opened the jacket up a bit.

Glamour is a state of mind, and isn’t found in the actual details. Thank goodness for that.

So the rest of the night went great. Matt blew me away on stage. I have never seen him sing or act the way he did last night. Folks, the man just makes me SWOON! (Even if he had to kiss another girl on stage. That didn’t bother me at all. I just wanted it to be me up there because I would have kissed him RIGHT! Hahahaha!) He had the entire crowd ROLLING with laughter. It’s a gift, I say, a gift.

After the show, I was standing around talking to people, assuring them that “sweet quiet mild mannered Matt” really is a comedic genius at home, and that’s pretty much what we are like 24-7 around here. Then he came up and squeezed me, called me a megahottie, and smootched me.  He needed to change out of his costume, so I hung around for a while, waiting for him. And I was chatting with Sonnia in the lobby, who makes me laugh all the time. I needed to text Nikki, to let her know I was almost on my way to get the kids. As I unzipped the back pocket on my purse, the darndest thing happened.

The zipper head flew off my purse and onto the floor.

Sonnia looked at the floor, then looked at me laughing, cause she knew my backside was totally exposed under my jacket, and she said, “Two in one night?”

Yeah, I take glamour and coolness to a whole new level.

I rip it wide open, it seems.