The people in my brain

So tired. So, so tired.

My son has been fake teething for a couple of weeks now.  I say it's fake, because he's actually poked a couple of teeth through a few times, and then these teeth have chickened out and retreated back into his gums.  I didn't know this was a thing.  Apparently it's a thing.  Anyway, the point of this is that he's in a distinctly sleep-free phase of life, as is my daughter who has scary dreams about masks some nights, and spontaneously wets the bed on others (SERIOUSLY kid? You're 3.  Stop that now.)

So papa bear and I are a couple of under-slept folks, and now it's taking a toll on my body.  Back pain, stomach pain, and week long headache, every last bit of which I'm attributing to the fact that I'm so sleepy it hurts.  Which is why we're going out on a date tonight.  Staying home may SOUND more restful, but going out means that we get a few kiddo-free hours, and nothing, nothing compares to that.  So date tonight. Yes.

I've been thinking about my "story" lately, (I have a Master's in Psychology.  Just in case you didn't ALREADY think I was crazy annoying, now you've got proof.  Story is a narrative therapy thing.  That's all.  Oh, I was also a cheerleader in high school.  So, you know.  Annoying.)

Anyway.  I've always thought of myself as a fat person who has occasionally not been AS fat.  I'm pretty sure a lot of that has to do with this picture:


Honestly, this wasn't even the worst of it.  I, of course, am the lil' chubster on the right, and the twiggy pre-teen behind me is my super hot, one-year-older cousin Tawyna.  No, I'm not blaming her high level of attractiveness juxtaposed with my rampant chubby awkwardness for my fat complex.  I'm saying it's because I was a legitimately fat kid.  There are other pictures. Worse pictures.  I don't have any of those pictures (because they make me feel sad feelings), but I do know that at the heaviest, I was 5'0" and around 170 pounds.  In other words, I was one chubby little chica.

But here's the funny thing.  This picture ALSO exists:

This picture was taken during my sophomore year cheer tryouts.  When I was a cheerleader.  That's right.  But for our purposes, it's more important just to know that somewhere between age 12 (above), and age 14 (to the left), I grew a bunch and skinnied up.  Where I come from, we call that puberty.  I was a chubby kid, and then poof, I wasn't anymore.


Fun Side Note: I'm pretty sure that mere seconds  before this picture was taken, I was running and whooping in front of a bleacher-full of watchers and judgers, when I cartwheeled and somehow landed right on my head.  Then I got up and cheered some more, because when you're a cheerleader, you just pretend it never happened.

So from high school until my wedding day, I fluctuated from around 130 to 160, dependent upon a variety of lifey-type factors.  Then I got married and got overweight for a few years.  Which wasn't a shock to me, because I am a fat person.  And then I had a kid and I was even heavier, which was still not a shock because I am a fat person.  

But here's the thing.  Maybe I don't want to be a fat person anymore.  And here's the other thing.  Maybe I never really was a fat person.

If you do the math, the years I've spent in the healthy weight range outweigh (hey-o!) the years I was heavy.  In fact, I've only been really good and over weight for probably 6 or 7 of my 29 years.  And although I've never had a truly flat stomach or been able to achieve a supermodel stature, I've got to think that truly fat people don't have pictures of themselves like this:

Japan, age 20, weighing 130, my smallest adult weight.

So I'm making a little change these days.  In my brain, if not in my body.  I'm not a fat person any more.  I'm a healthy person, who sometimes had to battle with a little extra weight.  It's just a fat suit, dude, it doesn't freaking get to define who I am.

And oh yeah, for a bonus:  You know those pants I used to fantasize about?  Those size 8 jeans I just COULD NOT WAIT to get into again?  Well this is what those pants looked like today.

Sexy. I know.

Let them eat cake.

And I did. Soooo much cake.  Just want you to know that I party.

Today was a Supreme Improvement Weigh In Day, and as such, and because it's fall and it's cool out of doors, and because I had some pumpkin in the house, I made a pumpkin upside down cake and it is knock your face off incredible so I had two pieces and so did my husband.  So we're probably gonna be a little fatter tomorrow.  Or I'm going to be fatter and he's going to have lost 10 pounds, because he is a skinny skinny man and that is what he does.  Side note: when husband and I started dating nearly 10 years ago, I weighed 160 and he weighed 125, maybe 130 after a big meal.  Today, I weigh 138.8 and he weighs 151 (it's all muscle, I'm sure).  Which is how I know that weighing less than your husband is a lot special-er if you worked really hard to earn it.

My first under 140 weigh in came the other day, and I took my pictures and I celebrated already.  But seriously?  I can't freaking believe it.  If you would have told me 3 years ago, 5 years ago, 6 years ago, that I would one day once again weigh in the 130 range, I would have immediately cried and kissed you on your face.  I was stuck at 180, then at 190 for so long, that the mid-healthy range seemed unattainable, a thing of my youth and nothing more.  But there you have it, folks.  I am in my 130's, and my Ultimate Goal is sitting a mere 18 pounds away.  

Holy flummoxed feelings, Batman.

Okay, more tomorrow.  Husband says it's bedtime and husband is the boss because it said so in our wedding vows.  Nighty night y'all!

Every 10 Pound Pics, Version 140!

So me and the scale made nice again.  Because he decided to acknowledge all of the awesome dieting work I've been doing, and called me 139.4, and then DIDN'T immediately redact it and call me something a couple pounds heavier like he did yesterday.  The jerk.

But the point is, WE MADE UP NOW. So I'm not focusing on yesterday's sins.

Just in case you didn't notice the sly little drop I made there, I AM OFFICIALLY UNDER 140!!  Days like today, where a slightly different number on the scale accounts for a not so slightly different number in my mood, I'm entertained by my own emotionality.  A few days ago, when the scale once again proclaimed 141, or 142, or even up to 145 depending on the day, I'd started to ask myself "the questions".  So.... am I comfortable where I am?  How do I feel if I don't lose another pound ever, miss my ultimate goal by over 20 pounds, and just hang out here?  Would it even be worth working harder just to try and lose a few more pounds, or do I think  I'm good 'nuf here?  Once again, I'd started to doubt that I'd see any more pounds lost.  Then a few "encouraging" pictures, and a few days on a diet, and I'm feeling a little more "HECK YEAH I'm gonna lose 20 more  pounds and be the sexiest person in the whole world EVER!"  

Feelings are complicated.

This post is taking me a long time to write, because I had to stop in the middle because my daughter wants to be batman.  So I made her this:

Madelyn to everyone. Constantly.: "Hi! I'm Batman!"

Which is just to show how wicked amazing cool my toddler is.  The costumes at the store for bat-girls are pink.  And they have skirts.  That is lame, Batman would never wear a freaking pink dress.  So we improvised.

Anyway, so here's my brand spankin new bod.  Oh, and I'm not sure if this counts, since mean husband says that getting pregnant and gaining weight then having a baby means the weight loss from before doesn't "count", but from my previous non-pregnant weight-high, I've lost over 50 pounds.  And I think that's neat.  Woo.

Picture time:

Check out how much longer the strings on the shorts have gotten!  I haven't been pulling them tight or measuring or something, I just noticed that from these pictures.  Maybe though I'll start to use shorts-string length as an indicator of how well I'm doing.

Another achievement unlocked:  Pretty sure those shorts actually, finally, FIT.  Which makes today extra exciting.  Also, holy dang these pictures make me happy.  I know how easy it would have been to ignore my diet, to not take this stuff seriously.  I know, because I've been there, how incredibly easy it would be for my "now" pic to look exactly like the before pic.  It sure as heck takes a lot of work, but if you don't think that it was worth it, to look like this instead of that, to hear my doctor call me "young and healthy" instead of suggesting that maybe I need to cut back on fried foods and do some "mild to moderate exercise" (that was his favorite phrase once upon a time), if you can't see how every whiney, hungry, sore day has been worth it, well, then I think you're weird.  And wrong.  Cuz it is TOTALLY worth it.  And, if I do say so myself, I'm really starting to look pretty damn sexy.  Yep.  I said it.

My scale is being a wicked jerk and I hate it I hate it.

I got up this morning, weighed in, and had this conversation with my scale:

Scale: Hey, guess what?!?  You did it!  You've met your goal for the week, (and it's only Wednesday, you ambitious little thing) and you're officially down to 139.8!

Me: WOAH. Seriously?!?

Scale: HA. No.  You're still totally a fatass.  Just thought I'd screw with you a little.  In fact, you've GAINED a little since yesterday... what have you been eating?

Me: NOTHING!!!  I'm tired and I'm hungry and I'VE EATEN NOTHING!

Scale:  Yeah... see, I don't know about that.  You're starting to look a little extra thick around the middle...

And that's why we no longer have a bathroom scale.

Flall Feet Flaberlous FIVE!

Soooooo WHO's interested in knowing how much I weight today?!?

Oh you are, aren't you?

You're just sitting there, waiting with bated breath....

You've been thinking about it ALL WEEK, and you haven't been able to rest, right?













RIGHT?!?

Wait... you mean, that's not right?

You do not care and I am a sad.

Now I'll contemplate the purpose of my life and things....

Well I have decided to tell you how much my fat is, even if you do not care.  So here is a picture of a picture of my scale, cuz I do not feel like transferring the picture tonight, and as you may be able to tell, I already had Photobooth open.

Here is my phone and my scale and my big fat hobbity feet. The picture is backwards, but it's not wrong, it's art.  Backwardsy-style art.

I have made a decision over the last couple of days.  That decision is that I weigh less than 140 pounds.  Or at the very least, the decision is that I will do everything possible, up to and including cutting off my left nut (I don't have a left nut, lost it in 'nam) to weigh less than 140 by next Monday.  Watch me.  I'm getting over being sick, I'm doing better on my diet and unlike the last few weeks, I don't have any junk food related traps coming up this weekend.  And I'm freaking sick of weighing the same flipping thing every dang-ed day.

Also, I'm motivated by photography.  More specifically, I saw some picture from this past Saturday, and my butt still looks like something that might someday terrorize the good people of Tokyo. RRRAAAWR! BUTT-ZIRRA!  You get what I mean.  I don't typically have the pleasure of seeing my own backside photographed unawares, but my kind Aunt seems to have taken it upon herself to remedy this.  I'm also feeling less confident about the sweater-dress/crazy tights combo I'd chosen to wear that day, though I'm not saying I've totally ruled it out for the future.  I just know now how it looks and... harumph.

Anyway, the challange this week was to talk about something you're thankful for.  Now you probably think I'm going to talk about my kids, or my marriage, or my home or job or faith, all of which I'm OUTGRAGEOUSLY thankful for, but you would be wrong.  I'm gonna tell you about a new thing I'm thankful for.

It's that I trained my husband to compliment me every time he sees me naked.

I said naked.  So all of you can stop reading now and go throw up a little if you want.

I have this tendency, after having a really good weigh in, to come find my husband and show off my lower weight by striking some really impressive superhero pose.  Usually I find it too exciting and important to waste time putting on clothes first.  When he sees me strike my superhero pose, he knows that I had a good weigh in, and he tells me how thin I look.

But then the other day I was about to take a bath, and I realized, post-stripping down, that I was missing the stylus for my DS (I was going to lie and say I needed to get a book, but that would be a lie.  I was playing Spirit Tracks).  I walked into the living room and husband saw.  "Yeah, you look good!  Lookin' really thin!"

I wasn't feeling thin.  It seemed totally out of the blue until I realized:  I accidentally taught my husband to compliment me anytime he sees me naked.  Which is awesome and which I am thankful for, because naked is the EXACT time that I want to be complimented by my husband.

Anyway, bet you weren't expecting me to talk about THAT, am I right?  I bet this time, I AM right. HA.

Have a wonderful night, y'all.  Get emotionally prepared to be hit in the face with the knowledge that I WEIGH LESS THAN 140 POUNDS, because it's freakin coming, yo!

Nighty night!

Fit Fall Four!

It was suggested to me that my few pounds of weight gain might be water weight.  I doubted it, since I'd been off diet for like, 9 straight days, which are enough days for those extra pounds to become reestablished as additional thigh cellulite.

But I'm starting to think maybe I was wrong.

After only 2 days back on my diet, this morning's first-thing weigh in was 142, just about as light as I've been in.... well, I guess just about since I graduated college, exactly one million years ago.  I'm not technically the thinnest wife my husband has ever had today (missed it by exactly 0.4 pounds), but this IS my lowest weight on a weigh in day, so as far as you all are concerned, it's the lowest one that counts.

On to other news, I am vera vera sleepy.  My poor sick little son was awake a good portion of the night with a cold, and even when he wasn't awake, he was crying almost constantly, leaving me awake, vigilantly listening to the sound of his breathing and his coughing just in case, you know, he stops breathing.  Being responsible for the well being of another human being is exhausting.

Which is why this morning, I looked like this:

And then this is what I would look like as a straight up Coffee Lovin' Zombie.

Can you see the difference?  Yeah.  Neither can I.

So here we are on to the next UpAllNight.  Currently it's 10:20, and Lil' Man has been asleep for almost an hour.  He has not had an hour of straight sleep since he "officially" woke up at 7am.  I've been trying to get this tiny sad little blog post up since about 8:30 this morning.

PS  Why the crapface do my zombie wrists look so wrinkly?!?  It's like I'm wearing a baggy shirt that is MY OWN FREAKING SKIN!  Great googly, aging is depressing.

The Game is Afoot!

Deep breath, here we go.

It's back to work time and back to diet time for me.  Today's 144 weigh in is remarkably not-suicide-worthy, after a week and a half of fatty food and over indulgence.  Which is super nice.  But that's it.  With 24 pounds left to lose till ULTIMATE GOAL WEIGHT, I'm gonna start rockin' it.  I'm gonna be at my so-far low in a week from today (141.5, just watch), I'm gonna be under 140 a week after that, and I'm GOING to be below 130 by the end of the year.

Which means the next couple weeks are totally gonna blow, by the way.  I went off-diet too long, and I am going to fo-reaking feel it all over again.  But thems the breaks, because feeling a little hungry and a little grumpy for two-three weeks is worth how goll-dang sexy I'm going to look soon.

Happy Monday everyone, off to work for this lady!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Today is October 7, and I'm like, super stinking fat now.

I am also super stinking old.

These things are not un-related.

Yesterday was my 29th birthday, or, I suppose, we can call it my 29th birthday Version 1.0.  I'm reserving the right to celebrate version 2.0 next year.

The day before my 29th birthday, my itty bitty little girl turned 3.  Terrifying.  Now she is a grown up woman-child who got mad at me the other day and told me to "Stick it in my shell" because she watches Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and apparently, they have given some new words to her tiny tiny rage.

Here is us at the zoo yesterday, celebrating our lives:

Me and Maddie Pants McGee sitting in a scary hippo's mouth

Best Friends <3

I promise the kids weren't as cranky all day as they look right here.

Tiny Lil' Momma's boy :-D

So precious... I, I might just pass out.

We also fed the giraffe (a MUST DO experience for each zoo trip, it seems, even after our trip from May when the giraffe sneezed on my daughter and sent her into a blind state of panic), and got to check out the new Sea Lion Cove, which was very beautiful but also very lacking in sea lions.

Hey look, there's one over there to the... no, that's a rock.

Anyway, I'm in the 144-145 range, and seeing as I had been all the way down to 141.6 (you're impressed, I know), I feel super chubbso right now, and on top of being outrageously busy and celebratory-y, feeling heavier makes me not want to blog here.  This was a planned diet-break, so it's nothing to freak out about.  And as of today, it's diet time again.  Woo hoo!!! Back on that wagon!