Archives for category: A weighty issue

The other day I was at my parent’s house eating lunch. I had run out of fruit and so I asked my mom if I could have an orange. She got very offended that I even asked her to have it.

“I’m not just going to take your food without asking Mom.”

“You’re my daughter. You can have any food you want in this house. WITHOUT ASKING.”

“Oh really? Even all of those Swiss Cake Rolls you used to hide when we were kids?”

“Yes even the hidden food. Look, I was just trying to protect you kids from unhealthy foods back then.”

“Oh really? So the Oatmeal Cream Pies were ok, but not the Swiss Cake Rolls?”

“Well, it at least had the word ‘oatmeal’ in its name.”

 Conclusion? I’m sticking with my mom on this one. Oatmeal=grain, Cream=dairy, and I’m sure there’s an egg for protein in there somewhere.

Now that’s a diet I can stick with.

*Update-My mom thinks that I think she is a bad mother. She was/is not a bad mother for letting me eat Oatmeal Creme Pies as a child. She is a WONDERFUL, perfect mother who doesn’t understand sarcasm. hehe

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There’s always a certain moment in your life when you know you’ve hit a new low. That moment for me was last night.

Brian and I had just come home from the store and you all know what happens when you get home from the store right? You start opening everything and eating it like you’ve never had a meal in your whole life and you MUST taste that cookie or you will just die!!

I had a 100 calorie package of guacamole that I was eating with chips. There was still some left, but not enough to use a chip to dip it up. So I did what any logical, level-headed person would do. I licked the package clean.

The only problem was, was that I wasn’t alone. And Brian had turned to say something to me right at that precise moment that my tongue licked that last bit of guacamole out. I should have been ashamed, but I wasn’t. I proudly said, “Yes, I’m licking the last of the guacamole out of its package.” His only response was, “I thought I saw that right…”

Here’s the problem…not two minutes later was I opening a Smart Ones Chocolate Eclair. Well, some of the chocolate stuck to the top of the package. And you know where this is going. Yes, I was busted a second time in less than five minutes licking something off of a package.

Listen, it could be worse, I could be eating food out of the trashcan. Oh wait…I’ve done that too.

Don’t ask…

This friend of mine, psychotic friend that is, Ginny thought it would be fun to train me and I happily, (delusionally?) agreed. You see she’s certified to train people in CrossFit (Ginny if I have that wrong correct me please) and she’s basically got a whole gym in her garage.

Let me first show you a picture of, as I lovingly refer to her as, THE BEAST.

Look at her! She’s amazingly strong and very passionate about her workouts. She was also a very patient trainer.

I won’t go into the boring details about the workout, but I will say that I think I died three or four times during it. It’s fast paced and high intensity and quick. My whole workout only took a little over ten minutes, but like I said, it felt like three lifetimes because I almost, not to be overly dramatic, DIED. I won’t even mention how her husband and his friend were doing snatches and jump roping like it was NOTHING while I’m about to pass out after doing basic moves. I know inside their heads they were thinking, “Ehh rookie…”

God bless her little soul though, she kept trying to teach me certain moves and my brain just has trouble comprehending things sometimes. So finally she just said, “Ok, that’s good. Let’s move on…” Which translates to, “Ok, you’re never going to get this and I’m sick of watching you make a fool out of yourself.”

Ginny was such a great instructor (if you’re in OKC and actually know her get a hold of her. She’ll help you out!) and she should be. I mean she did get voted “Friendliest” in our high school’s superlatives. For future reference, I was voted “Most Likely to Become a Talkshow Host.”

Still waiting for that call Oprah…still waiting.

Here I am, totally uninspired and uninspiring.

I am sitting here watching Let’s Make A Deal on yet another snow day. Which, let’s be real, I am not complaining about. But with all this snow comes a lot of indoor time. The dogs want to play but I’m not going outside in below freezing weather to throw a tennis ball. And I know we’ve been warned about yellow snow, but what about chocolate snow? I’m just saying…

Also, I’m itchy. All of this cold weather has made my skin dry. It’s driving me crazy. How much lotion does a girl have to put on? I feel like I have little ants running up and down my legs. I mean it doesn’t help that I haven’t shaved in like a week, but still, the dryness is killing me.

But the worst thing ever? My husband and I are eating the same foods, and both working out about the same and he is looking slim and trim and I still have my muffin top. Hmph! I’m sure you ladies can feel my pain, right? RIGHT?

The good news is, is that I’m alive, I’m healthy, and the snow should be melting in the next day and it’s going to be a nice weekend!  Also, I have a cheat meal in my future…I live for cheat meals…

Ladies, when you’ve got a little pudge going on in the middle you know you’re always looking for ways to cover up. Luckily this is an area I am all too familiar with and have become an expert in hiding my gut with any and every inanimate object in range.  Some things are actually living that you may use, but it’s worth the wiggling/crying to cover that gut.

Here’s the list of things to use to hide yo’ belly:

1. Let’s start with the obvious first. When you’re at your house or the house of a friend just grab a couch pillow or even a blanket. People may look at you funny at first if you’re seen cradling a couch pillow like a baby, but after the initial awkwardness people forget about it. Blankets are seasonal, generally you can’t get away with the blanket trick in the middle of July.

2. Another trick that will work is dogs and cats.  Granted you couldn’t use one of my dogs sitting on your lap unless you wanted to lose total feeling in your lower extremities.  Anytime a lap dog or cat is in a household immediately become friends with it because it will provide an easy cover for the ol’ bel-bel.

3. The purse.  A purse is best utilized in dark situations like a movie theater. The only reason you should not use your purse would be if it’s a really crowded theater and there’s a threat that someone may be sitting in the seat next to you. I would much rather have my belly exposed in a dark theater than have to share an arm rest with a complete stranger. Plus, you can always get a large popcorn to hold which will easily cover up your tummy. It’s also the cause of your tummy but that’s a different story for a different time.

4. At church you’re sort of in a bind.  You’re around a bunch of people you know, in a public setting, and you’re also standing and sitting a lot. My solution? A Bible or a songbook. Just hold it right in front of you on your lap and no one will be the wiser.  Another option? A friend’s baby. You do run the risk of being stuck with a crying baby on your lap but that’s a risk you’ve got to be willing to take.

5. Work. This is obvious right? Your desk.  Whoa, whoa, whoa speedster. Slow down there. What if you have a glass desk? What if you don’t have a desk? What about the side view that people can see? Easy. Always pretend like your cold and where either a bulky sweater or a coat. I’m not going to lie, many days you will sweat, but that’s the price you pay. And no one will notice anyway. Unless sweat starts dripping down your face. Just always keep a sweat rag on hand.

And finally,

6. If you’re at a restaurant with other people always, ALWAYS, ask for a booth. When you go to sit down be sure and sit on the inside of the booth.  That way you always have someone blocking you.

I hope these tips have been somewhat helpful and it also gives you a peek into how nuts I truly am.

Let me know if you try any of these out or if you have any of your own!

I was really hoping during the grieving process I would be one of those people who didn’t ever want to eat and just looked sick because I hadn’t eaten enough. I thought this would be the one moment in my life where someone said, “You need to eat something you look too skinny.” Oh no, my tummy and God had other plans. If calculated, I think I ate an entire buffet’s worth of food in the matter of a week. People, very nice people, kept bringing food: cookies, brownies, cheese, crackers, chili, soups, breads, the list could go on and on. Oh and one person had the audacity to bring a whole box of Hostess products. And every product was delicious. BECAUSE I TRIED THEM ALL!

Fast-forward to this week, when my pants are too tight and my coats aren’t fitting over my clothes anymore. I tell everyone I run into, “I’ve gained sooooooo much weight in these last couple of weeks.”

Their response? “You look great to me!” or “You don’t look any different!”

This infuriates me on so many levels.

Either A: they’re lying and I’ve really put on the weight

or

B: I was delusional and had really not lost the weight I had.

I know I’m not delusional because the very pants I’m wearing at this moment were loose not two months ago and this morning I could barely button them. Which means everyone is LYING to me. Including my husband.

Well the diet starts today. And I’m sure that will be closely followed by a cheat day. That’s just the way my life works these days.

Oh is there anything more fun than taking your dogs to the vet? Most of you probably have well-behaved dogs that enjoy public outings and act like civilized members of society.

I do not.

I had to take the worst behaving one this morning. And as always it was a nightmare.

Where do I begin? She whines constantly, the whole car ride there she whines. She drools, everywhere. She is 85 pounds of solid muscle (that’s what I keep telling myself–in reality she’s probably 65 pounds of fat and 20 pounds of muscle) and is awful on a leash.

And the topper…she poops on the scale almost every. single. time. It’s like she has no control over that bottom of hers. I get it, she’s nervous, but I can only apologize for the humongous pile of doody that she expels so many times.

Then when we’re waiting for the doctor it’s more whining, panting, drooling, climbing on me, expelling of hair. Luckily she didn’t drop anything else on the floor.

Also, please don’t steal my Faux Uggs [Fuggs]/Sweatpants style. It’s MINE!

Too sum up my visit, which was for what I thought was a deadly skin disease and a horribly hurt back leg, the vet basically said, “Ehh, I think it’s dry skin and she may have the beginning stages of arthritis. But her poop is immaculate and she’s a giant fat lard-o.” Ok, the vet didn’t say the last part, but I could tell she was thinking it.

Needless to say the pain and agony of taking a big, giant baby to the vet was all for naught.

I won’t even go into the story about the guy there with a Chihuahua that was not on a leash…ugh.

I absolutely HATE, and I mean hate with all of my heart, trying on clothes. In my mind there is nothing more depressing than trying on a crisp pair of jeans.

This Saturday I’m going to a banquet for my husband’s work. All of my clothes look like I’ve ripped them off a homeless person, so I thought I’d look for something new. I dragged my husband out with me to go looking for a dress that wouldn’t embarrass me or him. (English sidenote tangent: I hate that it’s dragged and not drug. It just sounds wrong.)  The only problem is, is the moment I put on anything I immediately go to the things that look awful instead of the things that look good. I’m sure I’m not alone in that considering that’s why people try on clothes in the first place.

Obviously my main goal when buying clothing is to conveniently hide all my flaws. Generally a cardigan does the trick. Unfortunately last night no cardigan was big enough to cover all the flaws I saw. Of course my husband thought I looked great but all I saw was cankles and a gut. I always like to think I have that body dismorphic disorder and that maybe my brain is seeing something totally different from what is actually in the mirror. More than likely this is not the case here.

Needless to say I did not leave with any purchases and went to Target and bought four dog costumes (75% OFF!) and discounted Halloween candy to soothe my psyche . But let me tell you, people tend to judge you when it’s a week after Halloween and you’re walking around with four dog costumes. I was about five seconds away from getting on the PA system and announcing to Target, “Yes everyone I have FOUR dog costumes. I just got done trying on clothes and it’s the only thing keeping me sane. Get over it…”

And that was my Thursday night. How was yours?

Have I ever talked about my hatred for shorts? I’m sure I haven’t. I hate shorts. Hate. Them.

I don’t hate people wearing shorts, I just hate them. Why you ask? Thank you for asking!

Let me tell you.

God blessed me with the body of a bell. I’m way smaller on top than I am on bottom. I know a lot of women are shaped like this but I am extra bellish shaped. I’m pretty positive bellish isn’t a word, but you catch my drift.

I think it all started in high school when I was getting ready to leave the house to go somewhere when my sweet brother said something to the effect of, “Why do your legs look like cottage cheese?” Those were probably not his exact words, but that’s pretty much the gist of what he was saying. The traumatizing effects this has on a teenage girl’s self-image is pretty obvious.

I was trying on these pajama shorts the other day to see if I could pull them off. Nope!

I have not owned, worn, or looked at a pair of shorts for at least ten years. The pj shorts I referred to previously were a gift that was part of a pj pant/shirt combo.  

At this point in my life I’m lucky if I show an ankle every now and then.

I kind of feel like I’m not alone feeling this way? Am I right? [Lie and tell me you hate shorts too. For my sanity’s sake.]

Once upon a time there was a dainty little, roly-poly puppy named Lexi.

She began to grow and grow into a cute little toddler-dog.

Another couple of months went by and she grew into her adult sized body.

There was a problem though.  She kept growing and growing and growing and growing.  Instead of growing longer and taller she grew outwards and sideways. 

Now she can barely strain her neck to look over her shoulder.

The end.

Also, the end of her eating anything she wants days.  This pooch is on a diet!  And it’s the most pathetic thing you’ve ever seen. 

If you don’t hear from me, I’m doing some therapy for a dog who’s addicted to food. We’re kindred spirits in that way.