Fightin' For that Five & a Parental Promotion

Hello, everyone!

I want to start by saying thank you so much to all of you who were so encouraging about my latest endeavor.  Whether you commented or just hit that "like" button, I was touched by your feedback.  It was like an extra boost to keep going.

My client that started last week, Ms. J,  has already lost five pounds and she made it seem effortless.  She was like a star pupil!  Her positive attitude had a lot to do with it, but she also fought for it as well.  She followed the program and VOILA!  It's working.  I'm really proud of her and inspired by her too!

Speaking of "Five", I've been fighting to see that second digit become a five for a few days now.  It's my first big weight goal in Operation Fattypants.  Today I got on the scale and you know what I saw?

160.0.  POINT ZERO?   Really?  The effing thing just can't give me a break.

Worse yet, I have one of those scales that does not allow you to cheat in any fashion.  You get on, it scans, and then BAM!  The number pops up and the scale immediately sends it to your computer.   There's no chance to lean a little to the left and maybe get the scale to take off .1 of a pound.  It pisses me off.  But I suppose I need the honesty.

In case you're wondering, I have the FitBit Aria scale.  It works with the FitBit Force and is compatible with the My Fitness Pal app/website.  It's like all of my devices gang up on me.  There's no cheating.  Mutter fluckers.

I will be doing the Forbidden Dance of Joy when I hit that 159, so prepare yourself, peeps.  Wherever you live, I'm sure you'll hear me carrying on.

On other fronts, viral germs have infiltrated my home again.  This time it appears that they do not wish to invade MY body.  They've organized an attack against Justin and Allie.

Last Tuesday, Justin got the stomach virus.  Three days of gastrointestinal fun!  Whoopeee!  Around the 2nd day, he got the respiratory virus.  Double the fun!  Around Friday, he passed it on to Allie, which was a kick in the pants.  I mean, look at this poor baby.....

She usually operates on Fast Forward so for her to be passed out like this in the middle of the day was quite surprising.

Times like this are when I see the real value of Facebook.  Immediately I jumped on Facebook and started asking questions.  So many awesome people responded right away with input.   Of course they are only opinions, but to me it's like gold.  Those opinions have value to me.  Who knows this stuff better than Moms?

I know that sounds really sexist, and I know that there are plenty of dads who are the Go To Parent when illness takes over, so please forgive me for singling out the maternal side.  But when I complained about how I felt like the Optional Parent, everyone said, "Wait until she gets sick or injured.  You'll see."

When Allie wants to play or rough house or do something extra fun, Justin is the Go To guy.  She hears him come home and gets super excited.  Me....not so much.  That's why I say that I feel like the Optional Parent.  He's the super fun playmate.

HOWEVER there is an exception to this rule.  The second that Allie falls down or feels sick, it's all about Mama!  She wont even let Justin touch her.  "NOOOOO!  I WANT MAMA!!"  And of course this is very confusing to him, since he's the center of her world at every other moment.

The immature side of me relishes in this.  Why?  Because he finally gets to see what it feels like to have your child run past you to get to the other parent.  And it's really nice to be able to have something to give that no one else can.  I'm the Comfort Parent.  I'm viewing it as a promotion from Optional Parent. I'll take it.  No extra pay necessary.

Before I go, I had something occur that I'm wondering if any other parents have experienced.  It was a bit freaky and unexpected.....

I took Allie's temperature on Sunday and it was 102.7.  I had to do some things around the house so I moved her from my lap to Justin's.  When I finished with the chores, I came back to the couch and sat down next to him.  For about an hour I felt very emotional and disturbed.

Don't make fun, but I felt exactly like my dog does when a storm is coming.  She gets all freaked out and worried looking.  We always know that a climate change is about to occur just by Sadie's behavior.

During that hour, I kept saying to Justin that I felt like something wasn't right with Allie.   I called the doctor and he told me that her symptoms were normal for the virus that was going around.  But I still felt freaky.  I took her temperature again.

"It says.......104.9."

Wait.  WHAT???

I took it again.  Still 104.9.    I started crying.  I don't know why.  After that, I called my mom and asked her to bring all of her thermometers over.  ("All of my glasses and all of my shoes" for you Jerky Boys fans)  I took Allie's temperature again and it said the same thing.

We called the doctor AGAIN and followed his advice.  About 2 hours later she was back to 102.7 and I was feeling like myself again.  The next morning she was 99.3.  All was fine.  All was good.

So, who is going to explain this to me????  Does someone want to explain that floofy, kafuffle thing that I had going on internally the night before?  Do all moms get this?  Are these more maternal connections to create more things for me to worry about?  No one warned me about this!

Is this how my mom has always known to call me when I'm having distress?  Immediately after an argument with someone, the phone would ring and my mother would say, "It's me.  Are you okay?"  I know that I'm just a rookie.  I'm in the same room and I have this internal thing going on.  My mom gets it while she's in another zip code!  I lived in an entirely different state during many of those crappy moments.  She's intuitive on a professional level.

So, to wrap this up, here's my little princess this morning, feeling all fabulous.....

She's still sickly, but she is happy to be almost back to full speed.

And since I mentioned the dog earlier, here's a photo from this evening.  Sadie has insisted on sleeping by Allie's feet since she got sick.  I looked down tonight and saw this and it warmed my heart....

My two favorite girls intertwined

Wishing you all good health and fluffy, protective paws  :-)

If you clickity click on the banner below, it will seem like nothing happened, but it did!  You can close the window as soon as it opens if you like.  T'anks peeps!

A Weight Loss Milestone.....whew!

I finally have hit the "25 pound" milestone.  It certainly took awhile.  And it was effing brutal at times.

I will never see those numbers ever again.  They are ugly, mean numbers.  Right now, I am creeping up on a number that I haven't seen since high school.  When I get there I think I'll just ease up and linger there for a little bit.

However, Operation Fattypants is not complete.  There will be future assaults on the fat that hasn't left! I think that the lingering a bit at a certain weight will help.  The fat cells will let their guard down.  Then I can sneak attack the sonsabitches just when they think it's over!

Anyway, someone asked me last week about the most helpful thing I did for myself that isn't being sold on every a diet plan.  That was a stumper.  I had to think about it for a bit.

Then I remembered a letter I wrote.  I wrote it to myself back in July.  My desperate, old self was writing to my encouraged, new self.  I highly recommend this to anyone before they embark on trying "one more time" to get in shape, especially if you've tried a gazillion times like I have.  

It was hard to start, but then I thought, "I need to speak to myself as if I was talking to someone I love and care about."  So, I imagined that the person I was writing to was just that.... someone I love a lot.  Unfortunately, I didn't envision my current self because, well, I didn't love myself much back then as you will soon see.

I carried the letter with me and took it out when Peanut M&Ms, amongst other things, were calling my name.  (Those M&Ms are noisy little bastards.....especially during PMS)  At times when I didn't have it with me, I still heard me reminding myself of this pep talk.  I needed me to kick my ass from time to time and I did.

I'm actually going share the letter here.  I kind of flip flopped on whether I should do this at all, but what the hell!  A few days ago I was giving you my State Of The Breasts rant, so this isn't any more personal than that.

Maybe.

Dear Vicki,

I'm writing a letter to you in the future but when you read this, it will be written  in the past.    I sit here looking into the future with hope, and also with fear of failure.  I keep hoping that the person I become (you, right now) will have the strength to continue through when things get tough.....because I know they will. 

You will feel lonely or angry or sad or resentful and all of these thing will make you want to eat something that isnt part of the plan right now.  You will think of your comfort foods (donuts, everything little debbie, peanut m&ms, pancakes, etc) and something inside of you will say "If I can eat this, I will feel better.  And its just ONE time.  I'll go back to eating right later today."

Here's the thing.  That food will make you feel numb for a little bit.  But then you will feel anxious and depressed.  You will feel like you let yourself down and your body will feel like its growing fat cells as you sit there.  You will be tired, lazy, grumpy, etc.  And you will feel unattractive to yourself and others.

Please dont do it.  I'm begging you not to.  Give us a chance.  Let us have a shot at being thinner and feeling good physically.  Give it one seriously good try!!!!  Please????  I dont want to be like this anymore.  

You are my only hope, so Im writing to you to try to convince you that you can get thru this without that food.  That annoying cliche' is really true.  Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.  Nothing.  That bite of candy or cake feels good for 10 minutes.  Feeling fit feels good ALL DAY.  From when you wake up until when you go to sleep.

You don't want your daughter to have a fat mother.  Not even a chubby mom.  You want her to see your example and strive for that.  You will be able to keep up with her and do things you cant do now with her.  Do it now, for the future, while there is still time to do this type of thing.  As she gets older, you need to be more physically fit to keep up.  Don't get left behind.  

People start getting sick around your age.  Heart problems, cancers, etc.  Losing weight will help prevent this.  Just like quitting smoking helped reduce the chance of lung cancer (and doesn't that feel good to not have to worry strongly about that?) losing weight will help reduce a bunch of other things.

Right now, I look in the mirror and Im disgusted.  Gross.  I see fat rolls on my stomach.  I see cellulite on my thighs.  I see fat hanging over my bra.  My arms are slabs of meat.  I am a fat person.  Look at the photo from the july 4th fireworks.  You look enormous.  

Who is that person????  That's not who I think I am in my head.  Why because Im so disconnected from my body.  My mind still thinks Im a size 8 or something.  And Im a 14 going on 16 in reality.

I feel unattractive and don't want to even be hugged  by my husband.  He is being neglected because I am fat.  How awful to be that way over something you have the power to change!   He will leave you eventually if you keep this up.  Not because I'm fat, but because he feels unloved by someone who pushes him away due to embarrassment.  You CAN change that.

Dont give up!

Does the food taste bad?  Do whatever it takes to get it down.  Its not forever.  Just a few weeks!  You've eaten worse.

Are you bored with the food?  Its just food.  And you are trying to get rid of the importance of food.  If you keep at it, you wont care about how boring it is.

DId you cheat already?  Well, move on.  Do something to make up for it.  Extra exercise.  Eat less later.  Whatever.  Just fix the problem and get back on track.  I am counting on you.

Go have some water.  Take a walk.  Write.  Read something enjoyable like a kindle book or a funny blog.  Move around.  Do something else besides giving up.  I know you can do it.  You survived a whole mess of way worse things.  You will totally get thru this too!  And when we reach the other side, its going to feel great.  And we will have each other to thank for it.

I love you.

Yourself

Skinny Faces and Nasty Bitches

"Wow!  I can tell you lost weight..... I can see it in your face!"

Just what every person wants to hear.  The area where the most change has occurred is in your face.  Fabulous.

I was really hoping it would be my giant ass or tree trunk legs that would be the first place affected.  Even better, if I didn't have to suck in my gut and still feel a fat roll, I'd be thrilled!  But noooooooo.  My face looks thinner.

F*&%ing hell!

I even would've been happy if my boobs looked smaller.  They've been a huge pain in the ass since I was a teenager.  Wearing the "grandma bras and sex killer lingerie" is the pits.  (A woman at a department store actually referred to my purchases as being "grandma-ish sex killers" once.  Never went back there.)  By 41, I've just given up.  It takes me back to the sensible shoes thing.....sometimes comfort is worth sacrificing style.

Operation Fattypants is still going.  You thought I would've crapped out by now, didn't you?  The coconut cake and chocolate chip cookies still call, but I send them straight to voice mail.   Sorry, no time for you!

I'm ten pounds down and still shrinking.   Slooooooooowwwly.  But I can feel a difference already.  Who would've thought ten pounds would make a difference (other than in my face...oy!)?  

Yesterday I was lamenting the fact that all of my skorts were falling off when I wear them.  Then what little is left of the "cool person I thought I was" many years ago clicked in and said, 'Maybe that's a sign that thin people don't need to resort to the skort, Vic.  Is the skort still in style???  I haven't seen people wear them...um...anywhere lately.  I wonder why that is??"

My inner cool person is a sarcastic bitch.

Speaking of bitches.... last night we were watching "Big Brother" on CBS and we are always shocked by  how even more horrible these human beings become week after week.  It gives me a smidgen of anxiety.  What a surprise.  Me and anxiety.  Who woulda guessed?!

Before I go on, yes, I watch cheesy reality shows.  My DVR is stockpiling them for me.  Andy Cohen is my DVR's pimp. He makes a new show and I find myself up at 1am, with toothpicks holding my eye lids open, glued to the TV. All of those Housewives and the Millionaire realtors are hanging out patiently, waiting to rot my mind, late at night after Allie is asleep.  

But Big Brother is by far the worst of them.  I'm not proud.  Loyal, but not proud.

I've watching since the inception of BB and I go back for more year after year.  Big Brother After Dark kept me entertained during the insomnia phase of pregnancy, so I kinda owe them.  (That's my pathetic excuse of the moment right there)

This year the women are embarrassing.  Three are racists who think their comments (which are heard live by millions of people) are "no big deal".  Another one has tried to start a romance with four men, desperately trying one after the other until one of them took the bait.  (He has since dumped her and moved on to one of the racists.)  One is a master manipulator who uses her skills in politics to shmooze everyone and fool them into thinking she is on their side.  And one is a complete bully, whose mission is to force her housemates into doing what she wants, or she scares the shit out of them.

Not one of these women could be a role model for Allie.  They are dreadful.

And yet, there are two who I find endearing.  One is a highly sensitive yoga instructor who is a terrible  liar, a devoted friend, and everyone thinks she's a dope.  The other one is an attractive, intelligent african american girl who is antagonized by racist comments and tries desperately to stand up for herself, which everyone in the house finds to be annoying.

Out of this collection of women, the only people I would want Allie to learn anything from are The Dumbass and The Annoying One.  That's what the others have pretty much labeled the people with scruples.  How lovely.

Before having Allie, Justin and I used to have conversations about having children and often the same statement came out: Do we want to bring a child into a world full of so much hate?  My only response was, 'If the good people start dwindling, who will stop the others from taking over?"  

So, in turn, I have now declared my Big Brother viewing to be research.  R&D.  Research and Development to prepare myself for what kind of people are out there waiting to corrupt my little princess after we have worked so hard at teaching her to be a kind, loving little soul.  

We need to prepare her to fight the meaniepants bitches from "taking over".  Fight the good fight!  Speak out against the injustices of the world!  Have a cape and a mask!  Wear gold bracelets that deflect bullets!   Make friends with the Wonder Twins so you can report back to me how they actually activate their powers!  Rule Gotham dammit!!!  (I took it too far)

How about if she just hangs out with Shaggy and Scooby (ruh-ro!), and makes friends with the girls that the evil ones have labeled as dumbasses and annoying?  They may very well be misrepresented.   Someone should find out for sure.

In the meantime, she can help house train Scrappy until they get it all figured out. 

My little crime fighter

Fatty Boom-a-Latty

Well, there's nothing that says, "Time to diet, fat ass!" like your two-year old pointing to your stomach while you are in the tub and saying, "Daddy has a big one of those.  But yours is big too!"

There was a moment of confusion there at the beginning.  When she pointed and said "Daddy has a big one of those" I started freaking, thinking 'What in the hell is she looking at down in that area that looks like something her father has????'

I kinda panicked.  "What are you talking about, Al?"

She pointing again toward my lower mid-section.  "Dat!"

"My stomach?"  For once I was hoping someone was talking about my big gut.

"Yep!" she answered, as she giggled.  "Daddy's is bigger but you has a big one too!"

I realized at that moment that she was the only person in this entire world that could say this to me where I wouldn't want to haul off and beat them firmly about the cranial region with a shampoo bottle.

Instead, I was disappointed in myself.  And a bit grateful for her honesty.

Honest Allie from Toddler Tubby Time

There's something about honesty from children that is excusable.  No matter who you are, if a child says something to you that's blatantly true, you can't get angry with them.  You just kind of have to suck it up and say, "You might have something there, kid."  And chances are, their observation is right on the money.

It's when we get older that there is a problem with honesty.  Sometimes, you REALLY need to use that inner filter that you (hopefully) developed when you (hopefully) learned about social sense.  I'm always shocked by people who don't use the filter, but that is usually accompanied by zero social sense..... and the fact is that they don't have a filter.  These tend to be the same people who blame everyone else for why they don't have friends.  They just don't know any better.

Soon the teenage years will kick in, and while the filter is still under construction, Allie will say oodles of Stupid Honest stuff.  You know, the things that kids are going to learn real fast that aren't at all appropriate and may cost you an ass whoopin later if you don't figure out how to stifle it.  I'm sure a lot of it will be directed at me.  She's just warming up right now.

As I watched Allie playing in the tub with her toys, I started to think about my mom and how amazing it is that I'm still alive with some of the Stupid Honest things that I've said to her.  There was one particular moment that I may have inadvertently tested her ability to not murder a human being.

Right now, she's reading this and knowing exactly where I'm going with this and what moment I'm referring to.  

I was a teenager and she was giving me hell for something that I had done.  I probably hadn't cleaned my room despite her seven million requests to do so, hadn't done my homework again, or I had gone somewhere with someone that I was forbidden to be with.  Whatever it was, I'm sure that she was freaking out with good reason.

However, Stupid Honest kicked in and what happened next was driven entirely by a teenage hormonal inability to sense right from wrong.  I looked at her as she took a moment to catch her breath mid-freak-out, and said something to the effect of: 

"You have no idea how ridiculous you look right now."  

And, as I'm sure you've guessed, I wasn't saying this in a proactive, concerned fashion.  It was full of arrogance and obnoxiousness.

Let me pause here a moment to say that my mother is one of the most loving, sensitive, non-violent, caring people I know.  Everything good about me came from her.

She is ALSO a warrior.  She was selling a home, going through an ugly divorce, teaching fifth grade full time, going to college at night to get her Masters Degree, had a son on a ship in the Persian Gulf during a war, and had a daughter graduating high school all at the same time. SIMULTANEOUSLY, people.  No consecutive crap.  All at once.  This was not a woman to get sassy with.

I can't say exactly how things went down after that because I remember being reeeeeeeally scared because I knew I screwed up.  Inside, my synapses were firing like mad and my brain cells were yelling, "Retreat!  Retreat!"  From her words alone, the fear of God was instilled and social sense was developed so that I may never make such a horrific, verbal error again.  I was no longer Stupid Honest.

(Dear Mom, thank you for letting me live past that day.  Love you, Vic)

Right now, Allie is full of innocent honesty and I feel like I should take it to heart.  She says I have a big belly with no malicious intent.  She couldn't care less about my weight.  It's just an observation.

But I don't want to be a mother who can't keep up with her kid.  I don't want Allie to be embarassed because her mom is overweight.  I don't want to set a bad example of what is or is not acceptable health.  

Fortunately, she has two grandmothers who are naturally thin and she appears to have inherited those genes so hopefully she wont spend 25+ years of her life obsessing over her weight like I did.  Hopefully we can keep each other active and fit.  God knows she is well on her way to that, since every day she runs around our yard, all willy-nilly, yelling, "Mommy, run with me!  Chase me!"  And true to my chubbiness, I groan and go, "How about if I just watch?"

At forty I promised myself that I would no longer let the battle of the bulge rule my life.  At forty-one, I feel like I've got a good start with that as I'm not nearly as obsessed as I used to be. And, to be perfectly honest, I have no excuses because there's really no more "diet knowledge" to be found that I haven't already acquired.  So, I'm turning a new corner with a new plan.... and it may or may not work out.  

I'm not putting any specific name to it like Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig or Nutrisystem.  I'm calling it Operation Fattypants.  It starts Thursday.  No pressure.  No expectations.  Just trying to be a good example for Allie.  I want to be Queen Skinnypants, but I'll settle for Mom Who Keeps Up.

Game on, flab..... cuz I don't ever want to hear that I've got something bigger than my husband ever again unless she's talking about my boobs!