Something I've been noticing lately is how much fear-based negativity I see out on social media. I don't watch TV, so I'm not getting it on the news, though I know it's there, too.
I'm not sure how many more "worst things for you!" I can take.
Salmon is bad for you.
Vegetables are bad for you.
Diet Soda burns the enamel of your teeth and actually makes you fatter.
GMO's are going to lead to our eventual self-extinction.
Touching plastic leaches into your bloodstream, and lowers your immune system, IQ, and ability to finish sentences properl....See?
I'm not saying these things aren't true. It's just that I'm not sure what I can do about them, other than finding a plot of land hundreds of miles out in the country, living off the grid, and raising my own food on a self-sustaining farm. I don't even know how to start a compost pile, for goodness sake!
I'm not sure what I want to say here, other than I'm tired of feeling like people are trying to scare me, in order to control the choices I'll make. That's not a good feeling.
I try my best to buy farm-fresh, organic, free-range, eco-friendly, free trade when I can. I just don't like the feeling of being bullied into buying anything, or at the least, judged if I don't. I guess that's what I want to say. I want to tell the wolrd to stop judging me when I buy mac & cheese full of yellow dye every once in a while, and drink a Coke Zero with it.
I'll get off my soap box now.
(Just where did that expression come from? Did people really have boxes full of soap on which to stand? That just seems weird.)
Last Saturday was weigh in day at Weight Watchers. I was hoping to see a loss on the scale, especially after going through the agony of waking up early and working out every day. I wasn't disappointed. I lost 1.4 lbs last week, and since I started back at Weight Watchers a few weeks ago, I've lost my first 5 pounds. Yea, me!
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Friday, June 6, 2014
5:30
At 5:30 in the morning, I seem to have a mixture of emotions and states of being going on.
First, I'm angry that it's 5:30 in the morning and I'm awake.
I'm also angry that I have to get up because mini munchkin has peed through her diaper and sheets, and I have to change them.
And I'm angry that she is now wide awake, and so is munchkin number 1, now, too. I'm the only bleary-eyed person in the room angry at having lost out on 30 precious minutes of sleep before my alarm was set to go off.
Not only am I angry at 5:30 in the morning, but I'm also highly suggestive at that time. My psyche can think things up that sound incredibly rational to my over-tired self, things that at other times would not make much sense.
Such as: You're missing out on a whole 30 minutes of sleep. There is NO WAY you're going to survive the day. Forget the exercise, get Mr. Man to watch the kids for the next hour or two, and go back to bed.
I caught on to that suggestion though. Oh, you sneaky psyche, you can't fool me! This week I've learned that my aching joints actually feel a lot better throughout the day if I make the effort to exercise. So, I can't just skip it, but nice try!
My psyche counters back, of course with a very sound argument: Okay, okay, fine. But you can at least sleep in a little bit, and cut back on the exercise today. Just do one mile instead of two, and that will give you an extra hour of shut eye time. You know you want to.
Of course I want to! Wow, that sounds great!! Let's do that. I'm sure I'll magically just wake up in time for that to happen. Let's go back to bed!
Nobody told my alarm about this great idea, though, and so it still went off at 6:00, a mere 10 minutes after I had gotten back into bed after changing the 20 pound diaper of pee, the stinking sheets, and the soaking wet pajamas. Not to mention, getting her older sister back into bed with threats that sounded something like, "So help me, I swear if I hear even a peep out of you, I'll..." (insert emtpy threat here), and then running to the kitchen to fill up the mini munchkin's sippy cup with milk, because maybe that would keep her quiet and send her back to dream land.
Alas...when the alarm when off, I hadn't even nodded off. I tried. I kept telling myself to relax, go back to sleep. Think peaceful thoughts. But it was not meant to be. I pushed the snooze button on the alarm, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I'd get a few minutes of extra shut eye, but no. No.
So, I pulled myself up out of bed. Tired. Angry. Still highly suggestive, and easy to manipulate, but I powered through.
I hate 5:30.
First, I'm angry that it's 5:30 in the morning and I'm awake.
I'm also angry that I have to get up because mini munchkin has peed through her diaper and sheets, and I have to change them.
And I'm angry that she is now wide awake, and so is munchkin number 1, now, too. I'm the only bleary-eyed person in the room angry at having lost out on 30 precious minutes of sleep before my alarm was set to go off.
 |
| Notice how early it is? No one should be up at this hour. Especially me. |
Such as: You're missing out on a whole 30 minutes of sleep. There is NO WAY you're going to survive the day. Forget the exercise, get Mr. Man to watch the kids for the next hour or two, and go back to bed.
I caught on to that suggestion though. Oh, you sneaky psyche, you can't fool me! This week I've learned that my aching joints actually feel a lot better throughout the day if I make the effort to exercise. So, I can't just skip it, but nice try!
My psyche counters back, of course with a very sound argument: Okay, okay, fine. But you can at least sleep in a little bit, and cut back on the exercise today. Just do one mile instead of two, and that will give you an extra hour of shut eye time. You know you want to.
Of course I want to! Wow, that sounds great!! Let's do that. I'm sure I'll magically just wake up in time for that to happen. Let's go back to bed!
Nobody told my alarm about this great idea, though, and so it still went off at 6:00, a mere 10 minutes after I had gotten back into bed after changing the 20 pound diaper of pee, the stinking sheets, and the soaking wet pajamas. Not to mention, getting her older sister back into bed with threats that sounded something like, "So help me, I swear if I hear even a peep out of you, I'll..." (insert emtpy threat here), and then running to the kitchen to fill up the mini munchkin's sippy cup with milk, because maybe that would keep her quiet and send her back to dream land.
Alas...when the alarm when off, I hadn't even nodded off. I tried. I kept telling myself to relax, go back to sleep. Think peaceful thoughts. But it was not meant to be. I pushed the snooze button on the alarm, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I'd get a few minutes of extra shut eye, but no. No.
So, I pulled myself up out of bed. Tired. Angry. Still highly suggestive, and easy to manipulate, but I powered through.
I hate 5:30.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
Random Thoughts for the Day!
Just some random thoughts this evening...
Why am I okay spending $10 on a meal, but when I go to the craft store (or pretty much any store, really), I hem and haw over anything costing that same amount? I'm such a tight wad with money, except when it comes to food. That's just weird. Or neurotic. Or both.
Swimming in the community at pool at night is fun. Until your imagination gets carried away. Floating on your back and looking at the stars is so peacful until your swim suit rubs against your leg, and you are now certain that there is a snake in the water with you. That was a short swim.
Even my late night quick dip gave me ability to swim more than an hour in the pool with the 7-year-old and 2-year-old. It shouldn't be called "swimming" so much as "holding-on-to-the-toddler-in-a-WWF-hold-so-she-can't-jump-out-of-my-arms-and-into-a-watery-grave-blast-o-rama!"
It's easy to get up before seven a.m. every morning. All you need are 2 kids jumping on your bed at the crack of dawn. Easy, yes! Fun, no.
No matter how early it is, and how tired I am, I will find the time to get my teeth de-fuzzified. Eww.
After four days of waking up early and getting to my favorite park to walk in the quiet stillness of the morning, enjoying the peaceful solitude of my thoughts and getting my body invigorated for another day of summer fun...I still hate exercise. I hate it. I hate it. I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate it. Every terrible, aching moment of it. I hate it.
Why is it that I love Indian food so much, but it fills me up so fast? Oh Indian buffet, you taunt me with your promises of seconds, but then you turn on me, and make me regret that second trip for more chicken tika masala. I shake my fist at you, Indian buffet! And yet, I love you so much. (We have a complicated relationship.)
Thank you for visiting today's blog of randomness. You may now continue on your way.
Why am I okay spending $10 on a meal, but when I go to the craft store (or pretty much any store, really), I hem and haw over anything costing that same amount? I'm such a tight wad with money, except when it comes to food. That's just weird. Or neurotic. Or both.
Swimming in the community at pool at night is fun. Until your imagination gets carried away. Floating on your back and looking at the stars is so peacful until your swim suit rubs against your leg, and you are now certain that there is a snake in the water with you. That was a short swim.
Even my late night quick dip gave me ability to swim more than an hour in the pool with the 7-year-old and 2-year-old. It shouldn't be called "swimming" so much as "holding-on-to-the-toddler-in-a-WWF-hold-so-she-can't-jump-out-of-my-arms-and-into-a-watery-grave-blast-o-rama!"
It's easy to get up before seven a.m. every morning. All you need are 2 kids jumping on your bed at the crack of dawn. Easy, yes! Fun, no.
No matter how early it is, and how tired I am, I will find the time to get my teeth de-fuzzified. Eww.
.jpg) |
| Don't they look like they're having fun? They're actually smiling! I simply don't have the ability to smile at 6:30 in the morning, while I'm doing something I hate. No way, no how. |
Why is it that I love Indian food so much, but it fills me up so fast? Oh Indian buffet, you taunt me with your promises of seconds, but then you turn on me, and make me regret that second trip for more chicken tika masala. I shake my fist at you, Indian buffet! And yet, I love you so much. (We have a complicated relationship.)
Thank you for visiting today's blog of randomness. You may now continue on your way.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Drinks and Tweeks
My diet may just be in trouble. I found an awesome recipe for homemade iced coffee, and it's so good, I may not drink anything else ever again. I can't drink my iced coffee black though, it has to have some flavored syrup and creamer in it as well. After all, that's what makes it taste so good.
I'm going to try to keep my indulgence down to one glass a day. I told myself I could only have a serving if I wrote on my blog and/or worked on my novel. It's going to be my special treat for staying consistent with my writing. Go, me!
Here's the recipe I found if you're interested...
http://thehousewifeintrainingfiles.com/iced-coffee/
I may never go to Starbucks again.
Oh, who am I kidding? Yes, I will. But I will never again order iced coffee when I can make it so much cheaper at home. I wonder if I can use it to make my own Frappuccino...then I truly may never step into a Starbucks again...at least until winter and my favorite hot drink, Salted Caramel Mocha, comes back. Oh, yum!
Today, I made some tweaks to my amazing summer schedule. I'm sure you're sick of hearing about my awesome ability to plan, but it's my blog, so suck it up.
For the past 2 days, I took the two-year-old mini munchkin with me on my morning walk. At first, all went well. Then the Cheerios were consumed and all hell broke loose. She was no longer happy to be strolled around in circles without the companionship of her Cheerios. It was not fun for either of us.
So, today I decided to try something new. Instead of getting up early to write, I got up early to exercise. I'm going to just let that sink in for a minute, because I still can't believe it myself.
First of all, I don't get up early. I am not an early-to-bed-early-to-rise-sing-with-the-birdies-and-get-my-day-started-with-flowers-and-sunshine kind of person. I'm a hit-the-alarm-clock-snooze-button-as-many-times-as-possible- before-it-is-absoutely-necessary-to-get-out-of-bed-because-if-I-sleep-one-second-more-I-will-be-very-late type of person.
Second of all, I sure as heck don't get up to exercise. Uggh! The thought is nearly naseating. And yet, if I'm going to get some exercise in, and keep the mini munchkin from going ballistic on me, then I have to make the effort, or just give up entirely.
Oooh, give up....that's tempting.
But no, no, not yet. I gave it a try this morning. And...it worked.
I got my 2 miles in, and was home ready to take the world's fastest shower by 7:30. I amaze myself sometimes.
So now, the alarm is set. My walking clothes are laid out. I even flossed this evening, because I'm usually a morning flosser, and even those few precious minutes are needed to make a quick start in the morning.
Now, if only I can turn this new-found motivation into a habit that continues throughout the summer and into the school year. I may be on to something here.
I'm going to try to keep my indulgence down to one glass a day. I told myself I could only have a serving if I wrote on my blog and/or worked on my novel. It's going to be my special treat for staying consistent with my writing. Go, me!
Here's the recipe I found if you're interested...
http://thehousewifeintrainingfiles.com/iced-coffee/
I may never go to Starbucks again.
Oh, who am I kidding? Yes, I will. But I will never again order iced coffee when I can make it so much cheaper at home. I wonder if I can use it to make my own Frappuccino...then I truly may never step into a Starbucks again...at least until winter and my favorite hot drink, Salted Caramel Mocha, comes back. Oh, yum!
Today, I made some tweaks to my amazing summer schedule. I'm sure you're sick of hearing about my awesome ability to plan, but it's my blog, so suck it up.
For the past 2 days, I took the two-year-old mini munchkin with me on my morning walk. At first, all went well. Then the Cheerios were consumed and all hell broke loose. She was no longer happy to be strolled around in circles without the companionship of her Cheerios. It was not fun for either of us.
So, today I decided to try something new. Instead of getting up early to write, I got up early to exercise. I'm going to just let that sink in for a minute, because I still can't believe it myself.
First of all, I don't get up early. I am not an early-to-bed-early-to-rise-sing-with-the-birdies-and-get-my-day-started-with-flowers-and-sunshine kind of person. I'm a hit-the-alarm-clock-snooze-button-as-many-times-as-possible- before-it-is-absoutely-necessary-to-get-out-of-bed-because-if-I-sleep-one-second-more-I-will-be-very-late type of person.
Second of all, I sure as heck don't get up to exercise. Uggh! The thought is nearly naseating. And yet, if I'm going to get some exercise in, and keep the mini munchkin from going ballistic on me, then I have to make the effort, or just give up entirely.
Oooh, give up....that's tempting.
But no, no, not yet. I gave it a try this morning. And...it worked.
I got my 2 miles in, and was home ready to take the world's fastest shower by 7:30. I amaze myself sometimes.
So now, the alarm is set. My walking clothes are laid out. I even flossed this evening, because I'm usually a morning flosser, and even those few precious minutes are needed to make a quick start in the morning.
Now, if only I can turn this new-found motivation into a habit that continues throughout the summer and into the school year. I may be on to something here.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
A Rip Van Winkle Sort of Day
I love nap time. I mean I really, really love nap time.
I love it when my toddler naps.
I love it when I get to nap.
I love it when I get to nap because my toddler is taking a nap.
I also hate it when I nap.
It feels good, luxurious even, to have enough time that I can waste a couple of hours sleeping in the middle of the day.
I have to make a confession here: I have no ability to power nap. No 20 minutes of down time, and then wake up refreshed and ready for the rest of the day. Oh, no. Once I'm out, I am down for the count. Two hours, minimum, usually three.
On the rare occassion that I get to take a nap, I appreciate it. However, it also means that I have no other "me time" to work on projects that I can't pull out with litte, curious hands about.
I told myself last week, as I was planning how I was going to spend my days this summer, that I would not give in to the siren call of the afternoon nap. Alas, I fell victim to its call today. Damn sirens.
Part of the problem was that I was exhausted. I'm not sure what is going on, but I'm feeling exhausted a lot. I'm moving around like a 90-year-old most of the time. My joints hurt, my musles are sore, and I'm generally achy and cranky all day long. It's not fun. I'm not sure if it's just the weight - the obscene amount of weight - that I have piled onto my body,forcing my bones and muscles to do an extra intense workout against gravity everday, that is causing me to feel this way...or if perhaps it's something medical related, like arthritus.
I'll have another doctor appointment here in a few weeks, due to the procedures laid out in my insurance for weight-loss surgery, so I'll bring it up then. Hopefully, I'll get enough weight off to help out my aching body, and the mystery will be solved. If not, well...gulp.
So, tomorrow, I'm going to do my best to stay away from mt bed when the mini munchkin goes down for her nap. Even if I'm sore, I'm going to try to make a break for my craft room instead of my bedroom. I have absolutely no problem wasting a couple of hours in there everyday. I just don't want to Rip Van Winkle my summer away and have nothing to show for it at the end.
I love it when my toddler naps.
I love it when I get to nap.
I love it when I get to nap because my toddler is taking a nap.
I also hate it when I nap.
It feels good, luxurious even, to have enough time that I can waste a couple of hours sleeping in the middle of the day.
I have to make a confession here: I have no ability to power nap. No 20 minutes of down time, and then wake up refreshed and ready for the rest of the day. Oh, no. Once I'm out, I am down for the count. Two hours, minimum, usually three.
I told myself last week, as I was planning how I was going to spend my days this summer, that I would not give in to the siren call of the afternoon nap. Alas, I fell victim to its call today. Damn sirens.
Part of the problem was that I was exhausted. I'm not sure what is going on, but I'm feeling exhausted a lot. I'm moving around like a 90-year-old most of the time. My joints hurt, my musles are sore, and I'm generally achy and cranky all day long. It's not fun. I'm not sure if it's just the weight - the obscene amount of weight - that I have piled onto my body,forcing my bones and muscles to do an extra intense workout against gravity everday, that is causing me to feel this way...or if perhaps it's something medical related, like arthritus.
I'll have another doctor appointment here in a few weeks, due to the procedures laid out in my insurance for weight-loss surgery, so I'll bring it up then. Hopefully, I'll get enough weight off to help out my aching body, and the mystery will be solved. If not, well...gulp.
So, tomorrow, I'm going to do my best to stay away from mt bed when the mini munchkin goes down for her nap. Even if I'm sore, I'm going to try to make a break for my craft room instead of my bedroom. I have absolutely no problem wasting a couple of hours in there everyday. I just don't want to Rip Van Winkle my summer away and have nothing to show for it at the end.
Monday, June 2, 2014
Summer Plans...down to a T
Today went better than I expected.
I had everything planned out, and most of it went went pretty much as planned. That never happens. That must mean that tomorrow will be filled with sorrow, ruin, weeping and gnashing of teeth, or some such thing. Or perhaps not. Perhaps having a day meet expectations is all because of my meticulous planning.
I've never planned out my summer quite like I have this week. I kid you not, I have planned down to the hour what I want to happen. And for the most part, it did. That's pretty exciting. I am not a Type A-must-be-in-control-of-my-destiny-at-all-times kind of person. I'm more of a Type B let's-just-see-what-happens kind of person. Unfortunately, in my case, just hanging around waiting to see what happens, has meant that not a lot has happened. So, this summer I'm being a little over-prepared, and I'm okay with it.
I got in my walk today because of it. Two miles down!
I ate healthy, healthy, healthy today, too.
I even made healthy, Greek-yogurt popsicles for my kids.
And took them swimming.
And to the library.
And I put away ALL the clean laundry (not just mine like I usually do).
And I sorted and put away the mystery box sitting in my bedroom.
And wrote on my novel.
And grilled teriyaki chicken on the new Weber. (I love that new toy!)
And read to my kids.
And bathed them.
And sent them off to bed so I could read my book and write on my blog. Hello, blog!
It was a busy day! I woke up earlier than I do during the school year, just so I could get started. I hope my enthusiam continues to hold strong, and I get more accomplished this summer than I ever have before.
Can't wait for what tomorrow will bring!
I had everything planned out, and most of it went went pretty much as planned. That never happens. That must mean that tomorrow will be filled with sorrow, ruin, weeping and gnashing of teeth, or some such thing. Or perhaps not. Perhaps having a day meet expectations is all because of my meticulous planning.
I've never planned out my summer quite like I have this week. I kid you not, I have planned down to the hour what I want to happen. And for the most part, it did. That's pretty exciting. I am not a Type A-must-be-in-control-of-my-destiny-at-all-times kind of person. I'm more of a Type B let's-just-see-what-happens kind of person. Unfortunately, in my case, just hanging around waiting to see what happens, has meant that not a lot has happened. So, this summer I'm being a little over-prepared, and I'm okay with it.
I got in my walk today because of it. Two miles down!
I ate healthy, healthy, healthy today, too.
I even made healthy, Greek-yogurt popsicles for my kids.
And took them swimming.
And to the library.
And I put away ALL the clean laundry (not just mine like I usually do).
And I sorted and put away the mystery box sitting in my bedroom.
And wrote on my novel.
And grilled teriyaki chicken on the new Weber. (I love that new toy!)
And read to my kids.
And bathed them.
And sent them off to bed so I could read my book and write on my blog. Hello, blog!
It was a busy day! I woke up earlier than I do during the school year, just so I could get started. I hope my enthusiam continues to hold strong, and I get more accomplished this summer than I ever have before.
Can't wait for what tomorrow will bring!
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Ahhhh....summer.
I'm sure you've heard the joke. What's a teacher's three, most favorite things in the world? June, July and August.
It's true.
I love summer vacation. I really, really LOVE my summer vacation.
When I was newly married, and pre-kids, my summers used to be unplanned months of reading books, watching TV, and staying in my jammies until noon.
No longer.
Now that I have two kiddos begging for time and attention, I know that my summer vacation is precious and I will do all I can to eek out every last moment of fun that I can.
Jammies come off in the morning. Breakfast is eaten at 7, and we are out the door at 8 for a day of fun and frivolity. Then back home for lunch at 11, so nap time (the two-year old's...not mine - no time for naps this summer!) can begin as soon as possible, so I have some me time to be creative and make things I've been wanting to make, but have been too tired and too busy to make for the past 10 months.
One of my goals this summer is to walk every morning with the toddler. Strap her in the stroller, shove a cup of Cheerios in her hand, and head off on the walking trail as soon as daughter #1 gets on the bus for summer school. Tomorrow starts day 1 of summer vacation. I'm looking so forward to it.
I visited my doctor a couple of weeks ago, and spoke with him about gastric bypass surgery. I've been thinking about it for a long while, and until a few months ago, I didn't think it would ever be possible. I didn't think our insurance covered it. I was wrong. By chance, I happened to come across it in our policy, and found out that our insurance does cover weight-loss surgery. However, it's at least a six-month long process of starting a diet and exercise program monitored by my doctor.
It seems strange to have to do that. Hello, candidate for weight-loss surgery. Now, before we actually go through with the surgery, we want you to try one last diet and exercise program. However, if you lose too much weight, then you won't need the surgery. But, if you don't lose weight, then we've given you one more failure to beat yourself up about. Doesn't that seem strange to you?
You also have to have been morbidly obese for at least 5 years. So, it's not like you can have the surgery if you just went on a bender and gained a bunch of weight over the course of a year. I dunno. It just seems strange to me. Oh well.
So, I'm continuing on with Weight Watchers, and I'm going to start walking daily as well. I feel a little torn though. Part of me wants to do everything I can to lose weight through regular old diet and exercise, and see if I can get my weight down to where I would no longer be a candidate for weight loss surgery. The other part of me thinks I'm going to fail anyway, so why bother trying that hard, and let the surgery happen and all will be well with the world.
I hate that feeling of indecision. I think I'm still going to give it all I've got this summer, and try to lose as much weight as I can on my own. This past school year has been killer, and I gained about 30 pounds over the school year. Very, very few of my summer wardrobe fits me at the moment. The biggest motivator for me right now is to get my shorts and capris to fit. I will die a hot, sweaty death if I have to wear the few pairs of wearable jeans that I have left, all summer long. Nothing motivates me quite like the thought of sweaty thighs. Uggh.
In the past, I have tried to be honest about my weight, and I'm going to continue to do that here. It's hard though, to put those numbers up there for the whole world to see. It's just a number though, and I have to remember that number does not define who I am. So, here it is. I'm starting the summer at 288.4, the heaviest I've been (non-pregnant), ever. Ever. Let me say that again. Ever.
Long way to go. But, you know that saying by Confucius, "The longest journey always begins with a single step" or something like that. Tomorrow, my journey starts with a pair of walking shoes, a stroller, and a cup of Cheerios.
It's true.
I love summer vacation. I really, really LOVE my summer vacation.
When I was newly married, and pre-kids, my summers used to be unplanned months of reading books, watching TV, and staying in my jammies until noon.
No longer.
Now that I have two kiddos begging for time and attention, I know that my summer vacation is precious and I will do all I can to eek out every last moment of fun that I can.
Jammies come off in the morning. Breakfast is eaten at 7, and we are out the door at 8 for a day of fun and frivolity. Then back home for lunch at 11, so nap time (the two-year old's...not mine - no time for naps this summer!) can begin as soon as possible, so I have some me time to be creative and make things I've been wanting to make, but have been too tired and too busy to make for the past 10 months.
One of my goals this summer is to walk every morning with the toddler. Strap her in the stroller, shove a cup of Cheerios in her hand, and head off on the walking trail as soon as daughter #1 gets on the bus for summer school. Tomorrow starts day 1 of summer vacation. I'm looking so forward to it.
I visited my doctor a couple of weeks ago, and spoke with him about gastric bypass surgery. I've been thinking about it for a long while, and until a few months ago, I didn't think it would ever be possible. I didn't think our insurance covered it. I was wrong. By chance, I happened to come across it in our policy, and found out that our insurance does cover weight-loss surgery. However, it's at least a six-month long process of starting a diet and exercise program monitored by my doctor.
It seems strange to have to do that. Hello, candidate for weight-loss surgery. Now, before we actually go through with the surgery, we want you to try one last diet and exercise program. However, if you lose too much weight, then you won't need the surgery. But, if you don't lose weight, then we've given you one more failure to beat yourself up about. Doesn't that seem strange to you?
You also have to have been morbidly obese for at least 5 years. So, it's not like you can have the surgery if you just went on a bender and gained a bunch of weight over the course of a year. I dunno. It just seems strange to me. Oh well.
So, I'm continuing on with Weight Watchers, and I'm going to start walking daily as well. I feel a little torn though. Part of me wants to do everything I can to lose weight through regular old diet and exercise, and see if I can get my weight down to where I would no longer be a candidate for weight loss surgery. The other part of me thinks I'm going to fail anyway, so why bother trying that hard, and let the surgery happen and all will be well with the world.
I hate that feeling of indecision. I think I'm still going to give it all I've got this summer, and try to lose as much weight as I can on my own. This past school year has been killer, and I gained about 30 pounds over the school year. Very, very few of my summer wardrobe fits me at the moment. The biggest motivator for me right now is to get my shorts and capris to fit. I will die a hot, sweaty death if I have to wear the few pairs of wearable jeans that I have left, all summer long. Nothing motivates me quite like the thought of sweaty thighs. Uggh.
In the past, I have tried to be honest about my weight, and I'm going to continue to do that here. It's hard though, to put those numbers up there for the whole world to see. It's just a number though, and I have to remember that number does not define who I am. So, here it is. I'm starting the summer at 288.4, the heaviest I've been (non-pregnant), ever. Ever. Let me say that again. Ever.
Long way to go. But, you know that saying by Confucius, "The longest journey always begins with a single step" or something like that. Tomorrow, my journey starts with a pair of walking shoes, a stroller, and a cup of Cheerios.
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