|
Main
And then she was smaller and she could feel it everywhere and in her sleep her underwear felt like someone else's.
And the panhandler who has watched the girls grow longer legs and longer hair says she is disappearing, swimming in her plus sized jeans and this is funny, this connection. Everyone loves a smallening. To watch this carving of flesh, a new shape and new dreams and new spring spring in her step. Everyone loves a success story. Everyone loves the smaller you,
I think about how in the past there were people who didn't love a fatter me. And I think about how I used to be so sad about this. And how I understand them now. I couldn't love a fatter me. And this is part of the healing and part of what makes us work through this. Learning to feel bad for the former fatter you.
And then she was smaller, but not normal small, just smaller for her. And this is another step in the greatest smallening of all time.
I just looked down and didn't recognize my own arms. They look only slightly thinner, but still, thinner arms are hard to come by. I have new lines on my upper arms, like an eroding landscape. July and August were hard because I have been dealing with swelling ankles and flucuating numbers on the scale. I did lots of experimenting and found that I had too much salt and caffeine in my diet and combined with the summer heat, things weren't good. I have detoxed from the salt and caffiene and have finally seen the scale at a steady number for over a week. So I am going to report it! Two pounds down from last time. Not bad.
I have had an interesting two weeks of smallening. A yucky stomach virus left me weak and not eating for two days. 4 pounds down. When I got my appetite back, the pounds found me and then some. So, I was 2 pounds up. Whoohoo! And I have been climbing my way back up the mountain since. Today, I finally saw something smaller than before being sick. Whoohoo!
Since the beginning of the year:
Since I gave birth two years ago:
I am so aware of my collar bones and it is totally creeping me out. They just sit there, pointing out at my clothes. I shudder when one of the girls touches them. I cannot imagine feeling all of my bones unearthed. It is going to be hella creepy. Fat keeps you from your bones. And I kinda like that. Of course, I know I will get used to my bones, but dude, the reality that I have a skeleton under here is creepy.
There is this other feeling, too. And I think I am only noticing this because my weight has jumped around so much in the past two weeks. The less I weigh, the less toxic I feel. Like, the parts under my skin, the muscles, even the fat, feel far less toxic with each pound dropped. I am sure this is true. It is as if the less fat in my body, the healthier I am, the less bad stuff under my skin. This must be how it feels to detox from drugs or something. Like a cleansing. I never thought about this and it was never a reason to lose weight. But it is a nice side effect. I know that thin people are like, "um, duh." But our enabling culture doesn't remind us that being fat is unhealthy. It just pats us on our plump little backs and says, "You are beautiful no matter what!" Well, screw that, I wanna FEEL good.
Even though I am back to pre-pregnancy weight, I am far bigger than I was then. I am sure this is about the fact that I don't walk 2 miles a day now the way I did back then. So if you are out there trying to drop pounds by just cutting food, the exercise totally matters. I might weigh 223 pounds, but I am a size 18-20 and not a 16-18 like last time. Muscle makes you leaner.
Something I found from the first smallening is reminding me of how I feel right now (this is in my book):
I am an archeologist.
Digging up bones. This is what I do for fun. I have wrist bones. I have rib bones. But best of all are the hip bones. I never thought they would be unearthed. When you are super fat, you don’t even think about the fact that there are bones under there. They surprise you when they pop out and poke at your clothes.
I think of all my bones, all secret under my skin. They have hidden for so long. I can’t believe they are really mine. I could make a prehistoric animal with these unearthed bones. Instead, I will make a new me. And she will be pretty and she will be strong and her discoveries will continue to astonish.
This is a feeling that I seriously wish for everyone struggling with the search for their bones.
Another week down, another pound gone.
Since the beginning of the year:
Since I gave birth two years ago:
I have been thinking a lot about how I should be measuring this weight loss and what my goal should be. If I were truly honest about where I have been in the past two years, my weight loss ticker would be far more impressive:
I weighed 305 pounds the day I gave birth. I dropped the first 30 pounds or so in the first month afterwards. Does this count? I didn't work too hard for it. The doctors gave me shots to make me pee out all of the fluids that I had built up.
So, if my ticker changes to this... then I think that my goal should also change. So, I am thinking of this:
I want to be true to where I am right now and the other ticker was since the beginning of the year, but this ticker is really where I have been in the past two years. And I think it is more encouraging to view it this way. What do you think?
I need to remember how far I have really come, not just since re-commiting myself, but since the day I gave birth nearly two years ago. The day that this great smallening began. I keep beating myself up for only having lost 25 pounds in the past 6 months, but the truth is that I could have gone the other direction so easily after I gave birth. I could have gained weight!!!
So, I want my ticker to express what I am thinking in my head when I weigh in. I used to weigh 305 pounds. I used to be as fat as Hurley on Lost. I am kicking ass, here. I am half way there. I am going to lose the weight of an entire person! I think that a goal of 175 was this sort of hope to still be fat without being fat somehow. Do you do this in your head? Wonder how you can lose weight, but still be a fat girl? I do this all the time. I feel my boobs hollowing out and think, my god, I am going to have smaller boobs. That sucks. I feel my thighs getting smaller and think, my god, who is this girl under here? So, I think my new goal is the acceptance that one must must must leave the fat girl behind. Throw her away and stop wearing her as some sort of crazy sad mask.
How do we measure the history of our fat? In pounds and sizes and feelings and photos of smaller or bigger yous. I don't know where to begin to measure this. Or what that even means. I am documenting it, though. And I am confused by it and I am completely entrenched in it. And I am working through it and this is all so rad.
The beginning of week three on Weight Watchers online and the weight continues to come off at about the right rate of 1 to 2 pounds a week.
My back is feeling strange, as if I am carrying around someone else's. Pants that didn't fit three weeks ago, do now and I am feeling lighter, like when you get a big haircut.
My smallening is steady and strong and right and has met few real road blocks. I do believe that if you can get through the first 4 weeks of weight watchers without freaking out and eating a whole pizza, you can do it for the long haul. You can. You can.
Tell me how you are doing.
So, week one on Weight Watchers online and I am 2 pounds down. I did really well until Saturday when Doug came to visit and we ate too much sushi. I guess it is better than eating too much cake.
I am adjusting really well mostly because my meals have been WW meals mostly for the past 6 months, the problem was that I was eating between meals. I have completely cut this out except for grapes at night. Those are gone this week. I also need to increase my water intake. I actually measured and ate only a cup of cooked angel hair pasta to night. 1 cup of pasta is actually a lot!
Something I have been thinking about and just wrote to someone in an email:
Once we have lost 80 or 100 pounds... we become this person who CAN lose weight. This person who HAS lost weight. And yet we walk around still fat or fat again because of pregnancy or time or whatever reason. And we want to explain to people, "But this is thinner for me. But I can be fatter! But I am trying. But, don't look at me and think, how could you be fatter than this?!"
Have you gone through this feeling? Once you lose weight, you DO become a new person or perhaps unearth a person long forgotten or abandoned. And if you gain weight back, you are still this new person inside. I am right now almost the weight I was when I lost weight the first time, before I got pregnant. I remember thinking this was soooo thin. It was compared to the original 300 pounds, but it is still really fat. I have figured this out this time. And this is totally ok.
I am seeing a smaller me in distorted mirrors on my walks. She is a future me, peeking at me from a soon time. A time so soon I can taste it. I am looking forward to her like a long deserved vacation.
I love this shirt:
But hate to buy it because I am smallening. Perhaps I will buy it two sizes smaller! Does that show how much faith I have in the smallening?
I already feel my back changing, after only 4 days of serious point counting. I feel completely separate from food right now. Like I had put up this wall. And there is no door or window or glass. Just me and the wall. And all the food is on the other side, feeling left out and forgotten. Poor sad food.
After so much struggling on my own with this, I finally decided to use my old friend, Weight Watchers Online again. Today is day 3 of using it. I can't believe I thought I could apply the theories and rules of weight watchers on my own without tools. Even though I used it for 14 months when I lost weight before I got pregnant, I totally need to be reminded for these rules to work.
So, day 3 and I am surviving, but it is difficult. The first time I lost the 70-80 pounds, I ate the same thing everyday for a long time until I got the hang of it and saw some initial weight loss. I am doing the same thing now and am so hungry! Last night I had dinner at 6, and didn't go to bed until 2 am, so you can imagine how hungry I was and the kind of struggle I had with not eating anything after dinner. I know, I know, I could have had something small. But what is the point of doing this if you can't take every opportunity to do the right thing, ya know?
I love Weight Watchers online because it is a tool, not a diet. It is a religion almost, a way of life, rules to follow. And I don't have to hang out with anyone who just needs to lose 10 pounds. No meetings. No silly food plans. Just tools to figure out how much to eat and to log it. I signed up for a mere $60 for 3 months, cheap compared to the lame meetings.
I feel like I am detoxing and this is rad.
So this is where I have been... First picture is me, the fattest ever about 5 years ago. Second picture is me the week I got pregnant with the girls after losing around 70 pounds. Third is me about 20 pounds ago. Fourth is the current me. I hear a lot of fat people say that they wouldn't be a new person if they lose weight. This is just stupid and naive. Do you think I was a different person from picture one to picture two? Hell yes.
I can't wait to add the last picture to this list. I want to meet her. She is in here underneath, waiting. Like a seamonster, all pretty under the waves.
Fattest ever (5 years ago, over 300 pounds).
I was too fat to fit in the picture and wore a Men's XXL.
The week I got pregnant (70 pounds down).
And I have to say, my best fashion day ever.
4 Months ago at the beginning of the Great Smallening Two.
And last week. Doesn't tell much cause my face is far too thin for this body.
After nearly a month of up and down, I finally saw something new this morning:
This morning, the scale gave me:
Thank heavens. I feel like I am fighting a war.
I had been thinking about deleting my post about being sick of the excuses that people give for not losing weight. It was a little harsh and not like me. I am usually the biggest cheerleader you could meet. I am the person who you can talk to about these things. But lately, something has clicked in me that I can't seem to explain. I have been thinking about my near decade struggle with fat and the struggles of millions of others. I wondered today if it is because my goal seems so within my grasp. I mean, it is nearly 60 pounds away, but so close compared to the original 130 pounds at the beginning. I am starting to feel the pre-pregnancy me again and remembering how amazing it is to live in a smaller body. This is a feeling that everyone deserves to have. And I am so amazingly sad that so many people deny it of themselves with excuses and fears and self-loathing and cheese fries and giant pants from Wal-mart. I feel like our culture enables us to be fat, wants us to be as fat as we can possibly be. That way we eat more and buy more clothes to fit our ever expanding bodies. That way, we need more pills to keep our hearts working and our keep our sugars in check. That way we are slaves to their food and their things and their cars and their health insurance. Oh and their weight loss products! The weight loss industry doesn't want you to know how easy it is to lose weight, believe me. They don't want you to know that is is about less food, more exercise! This would ruin their whole market. I know this sounds a little crazy. I know there isn't some huge fattening cabal out there. Men in grey suits shoving donuts down our throats. I know this.
But as I wrote in my comments on the post below, someone has got to stop enabling us. At some point in a morbidly obese person's life, someone has got to tell them what is what. Someone has got to be blunt and remind them that there is a whole other person under all those excuses. We tip toe around the fat people in our lives too much when they could really use a little a tiny bit of criticism. Maybe not from me, maybe from their doctor, maybe from their mom, but from someone. It is just time to start showing people we love that we want them to survive and that no, it is not ok to weigh 300 pounds. It is not ok to eat all the easter candy. It is not ok if you *seem* healthy. I only know this because I am nearing the other side of the fence. Yes, I am still fat. Yes, I am still addicted to food, but I can feel my own hip bones now and this alone is enough to shout about. This alone is enough to make me want to spread the word.
It is when my cheerleading falls on deaf ears that I get upset. I know I can't save everyone, hell, I can barely save myself. But I want to. I really do. I want the 35 year old mother of 3 in Iowa to put the cupcake down and think about her hip bones and wonder when she will see them again. And make a list of what she can do each day to make this meeting happen. And no, pills and surgery aren't allowed! But willpower and a comfortable pair of sneakers might be a good first step.
So, I am sorry if I seemed mean.
Something has really been making me angry lately and I am having a hard time containing this anger. I rarely feel this way, must vent a bit. Ok, I have recently found a chat on a website that I use often, I won't say which one because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Anyway, in this chat room, I often meet really interesting people. But I am also coming into contact with extremely normal women. This is fine, whatever, I am far from normal and know this and have found myself many many times feeling uncomfortable around people who aren't open minded, etc. I often have to hold my tongue when people stop to pray before a meal or talk about "weirdos" or assign gender roles, etc. Fine, not everyone thinks the way I do. I understand that.
But there is one topic that I will not hold my tongue on anymore. And that is weight loss. I find that surrounded by "normal" women, the topic of weight loss always comes up. Now these people don't know me, they don't know my story, they don't know what I have done, they don't know what I am currently struggling with. So I sit and listen to how they can't lose weight. Now these are people who are not my friends, so let me preface this with, I love my friends. I love anyone who I know who is struggling with. I don' t want to hurt their feelings, but I am currently ready to tell everyone else what I think. I just had an argument with someone about weightloss. My premise is that anyone can lose weight. ANYONE. This is coming from someone who has done it, is doing it. All you have to do is believe in yourself, get off your ass, put down the candy bar and make a life change.
Too many people are weak, me included. I am weak. I just gained back 2 pounds after a binge-y week. And I am weak and I know this and I just spent this whole day fighting my way out of it. I almost baked a cake. A frelling cake! Instead, I turned off the oven and ate some sorbet. I know this addiction and battle it every day. So, don't tell me that not everyone can lose weight. Don't tell me you need surgery to do it. Don't tell me you tried "enter diet here" for two weeks, went to the gym and then stopped. Don't tell me you have special health problems that make it hard to drop the pounds. The weight is making you sick! You have to make lots of changes. You have to get out of the car and walk somewhere. You have to stop drinking pop and you have to want it. You have to want it more than anything else. You have to deal with your emotional issues and flush the god-damn easter candy and make a commitment to yourself. And if you can't or don't then you are weak. And if you are weak then you have to own that weakness. I am so sick of people not owning up to how amazingly weak they are. I own my weakness everyday. I see her, I know her. I accept her. And she is sick of your whining.
All of this said, I often have good interactions with people who really need and want help. I love this. This helps me in my own journey. This reminds me how much I know and how many tools I have to work with and how far I have come. I remember weighing 300 pounds. I remember being depressed and huge and not wanting to leave the house. I remember not looking in the mirror or getting on a scale for weeks at a time. I know what this is like, but I also know what it is like to win and to have victories and I wish to god that I could communicate this more to people in that horrible situation.
Anyway... I didn't think I would have another emotional place like this. This is good. But I do have to say that I am ready for weight loss to be behind me. I am ready to not have to associate with this anymore.
Ok, sorry if that was adversarial, you can now return to your regulary scheduled positive seamonster.
Oh my, it has been 6 days since I last wrote. That is crazy crazy. Here is the view from our 3rd floor apartment window. Jeff walks Archie with the girlies:
I firmly believe that when one is attempting the great smallening that one must not not not eat pasta. One does not know how to portion such nummies. One then eats way too much. That said, I spent the whole day yesterday insanely hungry (this was followed by said nummies), something I haven't done in a few weeks. It reminded me of how hard this war is. I am now wearing the only pair of size 20 jeans that I own. The 22s just fall down. The 18s zip up, but are too tight. Ah and I remember when the 24s were tight. This is a good place.
After giving up weighing myself for a few days, I went to see my old friend this morning. For the briefest nanosecond, it seemed to stop on 239. But nah, up to 242 she went. This is the fun of a digital scale. It was as if she were showing me my future. I realized that I feel that if I get to 239, I will know that this new journey is for real. That I am truly on the road and won't let anything hold me back. I remember 275 was that number last time. I think of that former me and how crazy commited she was. I remember all the days of eating only a hard boikled egg and a pint of blueberries for lunch. I think of her and she makes me strong because I was her and will be her again.
So a week or so without weight loss and I am re-evaluating my work. I am fully commited at breakfast. I know this. I eat my wheat ceral and peaches and tiny wheat toast. Every morning. I even bought these tiny plates at Ikea. They are kid's plates in rad colors and are about 1/3 the size of a normal plate. I figure if it doesn't fit on the plate, then I can't eat it. I do this for breakfast and lunch. But dinner is my current problem. I was doing well when Jeff would bring Subway home every night, but that was getting expensive. So now I am trying to measure portions for things like pasta and homemade BBQ chicken. I still can't handle that a portion of tater tots is 9 tots. Last night, I counted them out, but added 5 to the 9 because I knew the girls would take at least that many off my plate. Then I noticed that Jeff had given them their own bowls of tots. So there I was with 5 illegal tots. What did I do? I ate them. And I don't even like tater tots. When the portions are controlled in a Subway 6 inch or a Lean Cuisine sandwich, this is much easier. There aren't any illegal tots to eat.
And I cringe when I read what I just wrote. This is a good thing. My opinions of eating and fat people are changing. I truly believe that when fat people say it is ok to be fat they are kidding themselves. And that a good step towards being healthy is accepting that it isn't ok to weigh 242 pounds. And I am totally there. Last night on American Idol, I saw so many overweight people. In the past I would have identified with them, even liked them BECAUSE they were fat. But I just found myself wondering what was wrong with them. What happened to them to make them treat themselves so badly. While it is not socially acceptable for me to judge anyone else, this is a good step in my own personal road to wellness. I am no longer accepting myself as I am, and thus am ready to not be here anymore.
I am finding this second weight loss adventure to be much different from the first. Much harder and much more emotional. Perhaps it is because the easy part (the first 70 pounds) is done and I am really digging deep, getting rid of the oldest fat and thus issues that I have.
I keep thinking that I am on the brink of some kind of weight loss. That one more day of walking miles in this 105 degree heat is going to push my body to this place where I drop pounds, but then I weigh myself and see 253 and know that I am kidding myself. Last week was great. I dropped 3 pounds and felt that terrible hungry feeling all week. Usually a real weight loss journey begins this way. Hungry for days and then your body gets used to less food.
I need to take my own advice and remember that this is about food, not about exercise. But I am not ready to take this advice yet.
This morning, lumbering to work like a giant panda, I thought about the fact that at least I am 60 pounds less than the day I gave birth. This is of some comfort. Then I thought about how fat people talking about being fat and not getting their asses into gear is tiresome.
The first time I lost the weight, I made many friends on the street because people would watch me shrink over months. I also took note of one guy whose daily route was similar to mine. He, too, was shrinking. I always wanted to talk to him. Encourage him. But he was doing fine on his own and didn’t need me to be one of those people who walk up to you on the street to discuss your body. I knew enough of those people. I saw him this morning. And sadly, I have to say that he has gained weight. He looked like he has gained weight, but hasn’t bought any new clothes. So he is stuffing himself into his old new clothes. I wondered what happened to him to make him take this turn. It isn’t like he got pregnant with twins, I tell myself. To this, I realize that it was a year ago that I gave birth and I am in the same place that I was the day I got home from the hospital. So I don’t really have this as an excuse anymore either. There must be a statute of limitations on this excuse. I say one year is more than fair.
So screw excuses. I don’t want to hear them anymore. It is time to drop these pounds. It is time to find myself under here again. I am an archeologist and I have some bones to unearth.
I over ate yesterday. It felt terrible. It felt awful. But I remembered to hate the feeling and not myself. I was stressed out about having to take the girls home and deal with them alone last night while Jeff covered graduation at his school. I shouldn't have worried about it, though as it was fine. I must remember this. Everything will always be just fine.
I ran into an old friend on the way home. Mark Daley is a lovely man from the UK who has the best accent and the cutest Pug and a great smile. Oh, funny story about Mark. Ok. I met Mark on the street. That is what was great about living in our old apartment, you always met people on the street. So I met Mark on the street and we woudl always talk while walking the dogs. Then one day, I realized I knew his voice from somewhere. Mark was the WHFS Alien. Few people will remember this, but back in the 90's, our "alternative" radio station was the biggest thing here in Washington, and Mark was their weekend DJ, The WHFS Alien. So, here I was, friends with Mark the Alien, someone who I had listened to for hours and hours on the radio. Weird. So, I ran into Mark and he got to meet the girls and it was nice. I miss our old apartment in Dupont. I miss my old friends.
This morning, 249. The .5 is gone. This is amazing considering the amount of food that I ate yesterday. But it is good and I will take it. Dropping 5 pounds, I feel very comfortable here at this weight. I realized this morning that weight loss is more about wanting the feeling of being smaller and less about hating my current body or not wanting to be this size. There is just something so amazing about watching my face emerge, get all pointy and lovely. It makes you think you will never get old. LIke, I worked so hard to get this new thinner face, there is no way it could get old now. Isn't that weird to think about? Also, it isn't like I am at my max weight right now. I have prolly weighed 60 pounds more than this in my life, so being 249 is kinda easy. When I think that, I have to remember what I just wrote about being in love with the feeling of being smaller.
Yesterday, I remembered that over eating isn't about anything but emotions and will power. I was stressed out, so I wanted chocolate. I was feeling tired, so I added cheese to my taco. This is about comfort and emotions and I am stronger than that.
This morning, I walked to work by myself since the girls are home with Jeff for the holiday. This gave me time to remember another tool that used to work so well. Music. The ipod sings Mary Lou Lord and she makes me walk faster and I don't even think of going to Starbucks. I don't even think it. I am transported to a story place that doesn't involve this fat girl eating a muffin.
Things are clicking. I am remembering. I am transforming again. Emotionally , mentally. This is the first step. I hope it is the last time I will take it. Gonna go eat my strawberries. Strawberry girl.
249.5
It tried to go up to 250, but never made it. So, here I am at 249.5, Down 5 pounds from my biggest weight in the past few months. I have been avoiding Krispy Kreme. I am walking faster and skipping the bus. The weather is lovely and I am wearing my orange sneakers and moving my arms and there is blood in my veins and it is pumping. I have basically been doing this thing where I eat 20 points at one meal and 10 at the other. And then fll thegaps between meals with raisins. SO if you know weight watchers, I get 30 points a day. So, I eat a big lunch or dinner and then Subway or Lean Cuisine for the other meal. This seems to be working. I haven't gone on any binges or thought about food too much. I think I might be having a tiny victory.
We have had a good week in babyland. No sickness, some sleeping through the night, but not always. Rachi has one tooth and is working on the second! She is so proud of her tooth, too. Anya has been showing her temper a good deal, though. She likes to hit her head on things when she is mad. This drives me crazy because trying to comfort her gets you head butted. Yesterday she was so mad that she wouldn't stop shoving Cheerios in her mouth. She must have had 5 in there before I could calm her down. To this, I thought... when you are 15, that will be cupcakes and then we will have a problem.
Jeff and I are trying to find time to relax, take care of babies AND promote his new comic book. A surprising number of seamonster readers have bought it, which is so rad! I think more girls will have read it than boys so far and who would of figured that? I have always thought that there was a market for comics for women... not for women, but that women should be reading more comics. Anyway, I hope that anyone who bought it, likes it! It is shaping up to be a cool series and I almost wish that it were a tv show so that I could watch it every week and not have to wait 6 months for the next issue.
We are also still trying to figure out our living situation. The buying is just not going to happen, so we are looking at renting a bigger place that is still in the city, but a little further out. We are thinking of Glover Park. If you have a friend who has a 2 bedroom apartment for rent in Glover Park in August, let me know. For that matter, I would also like to hear from those of you with a house for rent in College Park, Takoma Park or Silver Spring. Doesn't hurt to ask, right? We are looking to spend a measely $1500-$1600 a month (less than we spend now!) Go ahead and laugh. I know it is hilarious. I just saw a 2 bedroom apartment for rent on our block for $4,000 a month. I am not kidding.
So, send me positive food vibes. I hope to keep this up by keeping my mind on other things like comic books and apartments and baby teeth. It is working this week, at least.
My addiction to food is like a tidal wave. I can see it building, far off in the distance. And it comes and it gets bigger and bigger and I watch it with awe because it is massive. And there is this point where I could escape, but I don't. I wait for it and it washes over me and I eat the whole package of hazelnut candies.
This happened to me this week, this tidal wave. Yes, I am addicted to food and yes, I have been overeating and yes I have felt terrible about it. Monday I took the bus to work so that I wouldn't pass either of two Starbucks or the Krispy Kreme. Tuesday I realized that was stupid because if I walked to work, I could actually eat something. Enter me in the Krispy Kreme walking out with TWO donuts. I don't even like Krispy Kreme. You eat it and it sits in your stomach like a sickingly sweet lump. Wednesday I walked to work and got Starbuck low fat muffin for breakfast on the way. Getting better, right? Today I walked to work, picking up my slothy pace and didn't stop anywhere for breakfast. But I just broke down and ate 3 swedish fish. Not many calories, but still gross and fat girl behavior.
Why I am telling you this? The first step to healing an addiction is being honest about it. So here I am. I won't even tell you what I ate for lunches these days (gyros and fish and chips and burritos, oh my!). But I will tell you that I had Subway for dinner each night. This is why I have dropped two pounds this week.
Let's recap this for anyone who didn't read the blog during my first weight loss adventure. I used to weigh more than 300 pounds. I don't know how much more because I didn't have a scale that went up high enough. I was gigantic. Over the course of 14 months I lost over 70 maybe 80 pounds. It was hard. But it was life changing. I went from a size 28 to a size 16. The day I got pregnant I weighed 224 pounds, still plump, but healthy and happy. At that weight, I actually felt hella skinny. Weird. I did all of this with increased exercise and less food. I didn't starve myself.
Then I got pregnant with twins. I should have lost 50 more pounds first, but I could not imagine myself being that small and the hubby wondered if we would ever have kids so we decided to get pregnant. The day I gave birth, I weighed 310 pounds. And so it began again, the pounds had to come off. Some shots in the butt to make me pee out extra water weight helped. By the time the girls were 4 months old, I was down to 243. Not bad for 4 months.
Enter the tidal wave. It brings with it all kinds of fun. Like rocky road ice cream and easter candy and nachos and all the things that I love. It is ok to eat these things if you are just getting a taste, but when you eat and eat and eat until there is no more than there is a problem. This is classic fat girl behavior. This is classic food addiction. This packs on the pounds fast.
So on Monday I weighed 254.5. My knees were starting to hurt and my tummy was starting to pull at my c-section scar. I know, gross! Something had to be done. I am preparing myself mentally for this new journey. The more I think about it, the more I realize that all I need to do to feel better is lose 30 pounds. How hard is that? 30 pounds equals 15 weeks. So easy! When I drop 30 pounds, I will be back to my pre baby weight and at that point I will decide if I should continue with this. But for now, I just keep thinking of the 30 pounds. And how my heart will feel better and my knees will work right and these sized 20 pants will be replaced with the 16 again.
Rereading this post, I think about what the fat positive movement would say about me and my dreams of being smaller. I saw Marilyn Wann, fat activist on the Today Show this morning and she looked so huge. I mean, just huge. She kept saying she was healthy and skinny is ugly and she eats her veggies. The story was about how America hates fat women and how they make 20 percent less money than other women. This is such a touchy subject with me. I hate the fat positive movement, but don't want anyone to judge me for my weight. I agree with them because I think that we should love our bodies no matter what we look like and I have always felt beautiful as a big girl. But there is a difference between fat and obese. I have said this before. At 250, I feel obese. This number is different for everyone. After I drop 30 pounds, I am going to feel soooo great! But 230 is obese for someone else. And the whole thing about fat women making less money is just silly to me. That isn't about fat women, that is about women with low self-esteem. I am a fat women who has always had good jobs and salaries and I think it is because I am positive and present myself as an emotionally healthy person even when I wasn't. So it isn't relaly about weight but about how you present yourself.
So, the fat positive movement drives me crazy. But I know it is a reaction to the totally messed up culture of thin that is America. But it still drives me crazy and I think it gives girls an excuse to not be healthy.
The wave has passed and I am getting out of the water. I will watch the waves from far up on the beach. I will not let them crash down on me again. At least this is my hope. I have failed many times in the past 4 months. But I hope this time it is different. A friend of mine who is losing weight worried about writing about it because she didn't want a "fat girl" blog. Screw that. There is nothing wrong with a fat girl blog even though I understand her concerns. Welcome to my fat girl blog. I don't expect everyone to understand or take this journey with me. I know I might be going over old territory, but I need to do it, so this is me and I am it.
We are all getting into a routine. The girls seem to be eating less times a day and while they aren't going to sleep at 8pm anymore (much to Jeff's sorrow), they are sleeping more deeply at night. I actually had to wake Rachel at about 7 this morning (we were up at 3, but still). I find that they are more interested in waking up to smile and play than to eat. This is cool.
Yesterday I didn't go see them at lunch time, instead I made my way to my favorite sushi by the pound place. I didn't get any sushi during most of my pregnancy, so I am wondering if I still have a taste for it! But, so sad no sushi! The by the pound place is gone! So I got a gyro instead, which was still great. I also stopped in the fabric store and bought a giant blue/grey button for $2, which I made into a ring. A little present for me. Today's lunch adventure will be to find another good sushi place.
I just wrote this in marker on a big pad of paper on the wall at work:
Pounds lost before getting pregnant = 70!
Pounds gained during pregnancy = 80!
Pounds lost since giving birth = 56.5!
This is the first step on my new weight loss adventure. Announcing it. I will tell anyone what I weigh. I weigh 248.5. That sounds really heavy, but it is nothing compared to the 305 the day I gave birth! I am currently wearing a size 20 and my goal is a size 14. My weight goal is 180. So, I have 68.5 pounds to drop. Oh that will be a piece of cake! wink wink. I think it will take about 14 months.
So. First step was to tell all.
Second step is to increase exercise.
Third step is to increase water intake and swtich back to diet pop.
Fourth step is to smallen portions.
Fifth step is to change what I eat.
I have done steps one and two. I will let you know when I for real do step three. But I think that steps one and two are good enough for this week. I think I will see a change on Monday when I weigh in.
If you weren't with me for my first weight loss adventure, I must sound like a total nut. Gender politics are really wrapped up in the weight and weight loss for me. The "fat positive" movement kept me down for a long time. I mean kept me fat! And while I always feel lovely no matter what I weigh, I am a bit obsessed with dropping the pounds for health reasons and also for emotional reasons. I love to know that I CAN do it. That I can do anything. The ability to change my body gives me this ultimate power. Once I get started I will be slightly addicted to it. But the truth is, right now, I love cheese fries. I love hazelnut 5 Star bars. Oh and guacamole! I love to eat. This is what I am up against.
It is funny. Embarking on this second weight loss adventure is way more low key than the first. And I think that is because I know that I sort of dodged a bullet with the first one. I can't imagine what it would have been like to have gotten pregnant with twins at my original 290 pounds. I would have died. I would be dead. Plus, this time around... I know I can do it. It isn't a question of if, but a question of when.
I hate writing complainy posts. I hate to worry people. But here I am. This day in babyland has once again kicked my ass. It is 4:22 and this is the first minute during which a baby is not crying. As I typed that, I heard Anya screech from her crib. She and Rachel were supposed to be enjoying the mobile with the lovely octopus... but nope. There she goes complaining about it.
I had been trying to get them on a every 3 to 4 hours feeding schedule, but today it seems that we are back to every 2 hours or less. This means that I feed babies all day long. I wonder if I am stressed about my day because I know the end is near. I will be going back to work next week and then my days of taking care of two babies alone are pretty much done. I feel bad because the girls' special time with mommy is over, but dude... I need a break. This is so much easier when it is Jeff and I. But one person with two infants is just so hard. Of course there is the guilt of sending them to daycare, which I am sure I will explore to great length sometime next week. But man, I need some baby-free time right now.
I also tried to start weightwatchers hardcore today. No dice. The stress of the babies just made me want to make a batch of brownies and eat them all. No time for that, inside I ate all the cheese in the fridge. I have gained about 3 pounds in the past few weeks, which isn't bothering me too much, but I don't want to find myself at plus 10 pounds or more. I know it is a slippery slope. I know I could eat a giant bag of Reeces cups if I let myself (ok, I did that last week). So, I will wait until I am back at work next week to start my new weight loss journey in earnest. I can't wait to start the two mile walks a day and start eating sushi again. I know the pounds will drop off and my legs will melt away. I want to be melty again.
oh yeah... and my period started already. Yep. I stopped pumping breast milk two weeks ago. That is another story for another post. A story that involves, yes, guilt and then no guilt and now ovulation. Great. Just what I needed. More frelling eggs! My giant monster-y fear is ever getting pregnant again, considering what this pregnancy put me through.
Ok... now the babies want my full attention, as they deserve. I am off to give it.
I have mastered the art of carrying a baby in a sling. Rachel is nestled in one right now while I type this with two hands! Anya is happy happy in the swing. Whoohoo! I have a few minutes of baby-free peace.
Weighed myself this morning. 242! 15 more pounds and will be back to pre-pregnancy weight. Then I get to start up the hill of dropping anouther 50 or so pounds. I have been walking the girls to Jeff's work in the afternoons, about a mile there and a mile back. I can feel it in my butt and thighs. I love that feeling. But what is so great is that I don't feel it in my heart like when I was pregnant or when I was super fat before then. No matter what, I will never ever see 300 pounds on a scale again. I hate the way it makes my heart pound and my lungs huff huff. So how long will it take me to drop these 15 pounds? Hopefully no more than 6 weeks or so. Then I might might be able to fit into my old pants again, which I really would like to because the maternity pants are falling down down and I shouldn't be buying interim clothes.
The daycare situation was looking bad last week when we found out that the daycare we had been on a list for since we got pregnant would not have two spots for us, only one. Now we are interviewing a nanny on Sunday. I spoke to her on the phone and she seemed very sweet. I hope she likes us!!! We will see.
Jeff and I have spent the long weekend watching Bill Murray movies and eating brownies. Is this what normal people do with their last few weeks of freedom?
Before Bill and the brownies, our friends, Michael and Edie were so so kind to come over and entertain me for all of Saturday. All day! It really did make me feel more normal to have other people in the house for the day. Jeff made BBQ and I even got to eat on the roof of the building, which was my only trip out of the apartment besides going to the doctor in the past two weeks. Poor me, being made to stay out of the Washington summer. :)
Of course, Saturday actually took a lot out of me and made me very very tired and Jeff kept telling me that my vacation to the couch would be over if I didn't spend more time in bed. And I know that starting Tuesday, I will be back in bed full time.
Tuesday! Tuesday marks 34 weeks pregnant. Jeff says he feels like we are in a holding pattern now. That it just feels like we are waiting now. But, I am kinda hoping we still have 3 or 4 more weeks. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be 40 weeks pregnant with twins, since 37 is often thought of as full term for twins, but I don't want to go into labor now either and deal with tiny babies. But I understand his feelings of things being on hold. He has put together the crib, we have hundreds and hundreds of diapers stock piled and it seems that we can sit and watch my belly grow. I often wonder if it would have gotten this big with just one baby. And then I wonder how much bigger it can possibly get. Maybe Jeff will take a picture for me tomorrow to post.
I was reading some old posts about weight loss the other day. And I realized something. That first weight loss journey was really just a dress rehearsal. Sure, I lost 70 pounds. Well, now I have gained 55 of it back. It is easy to forget that. I know that it is a different kind of weight and that I will likely drop 20 pounds or so giving birth. But these past few weeks in bed have made me totally take a look at how big my bum and thighs have gotten again. Don't get me wrong. I am not worrying over them, just sort of exploring old territory.
I am really looking forward to getting back into this challenge of losing weight again. And this time, I won't just be losing the baby weight, but I will get to continue the original journey. I am a little curious to see how easy or hard it will really be. How much breastfeeding really helps, how much time I will have for exercise, how hungry breastfeeding will make me, how much I will have to eat to breastfeed two babies. Don't think that I am stressing over these things. I am curious, the way one would be about visiting a foriegn land for the first time. It isn't an emotional thing like the first time I lost the weight, it is more intellectual. I am hoping the emotional issues surrounding weight for me are completely gone. I am even curious to see if that is the case. Because I found it really is emotional issues that keep us fat and unhealthy.
So. 34 weeks and being pregnant with twins is finally getting hard for me. It is hard to sleep and hard to stay awake. I have begun to be able to feel contractions about once a day, but they go away quickly by drinking water and resting. But really, I still don't think I am AS uncomfortable as I was at my most fat and unhealthy. Isn't that fascinating?
Last Monday, I weighed in at 261. This morning, 259. Hmm. So I am 6 months pregnant and I lost 2 pounds last week. And believe me I am eating and eating and eating! These babies must be using more resources than I think they are. What makes it so hard is that I don't think I have been actually hungry for weeks. I eat all day long. Perhaps it is that I am eating healthy. I have no idea. So far today, I have had a 3 egg and cheddar omelet, an ice cream sandwich, a pound of strawberries, 2 cups of Cheerios and a pint of blackberries. Plus lots of water. And it is only 11:52. How on earth will I eat lunch in an hour? I have no idea.
Jeff has been learning to cook and has been cooking huge amounts of food for me every night for dinner. BBQ chicken and fresh brocolli and steaks and baked sweet potatos. All kinds of stuff. And I nearly have to force myself to eat it all. In the middle of a huge taco dinner out last week, I said that I can't wait until I starve myself again. Of course, that isn't what I used to do, I was being funny. But really, I am so sick of eating this much food. I am beginning to not enjoy food again, like the taste of it or the action of eating. I remember when I was losing weight and I would have killed for an ice cream sandwich. Haha.
Anyway, my complicated relationship with food is ever-changing. I have gained 32 pounds in 24 weeks and I am ok with that. It is just the actual eating that is bothering me right now. I have to say that when I saw the 2 pound loss on the scale, I worried that something mystically took the babies out of my tummy and that is what the two pounds gone was. Crazy pregnant girl. Jeff says I've watched too much Buffy and Angel.
I have to say that I feel like a bit of a fraud because I haven't been writing about the emotional rollercoaster these hormones are putting me through. I tend to write only when I am happy and thus you must think I am this crazy happy girl. But the truth is, this past month has been hard. I think that since I have felt better physically, I have started to worry and worry and worry about all sorts of things. My mood swings have been a little out of control and poor Jeff has had to deal with it. I wish I knew how much of this is being pregnant and how of this is being 5 months off of Prozac. I wish. I wish. I wish I knew. No matter. I suppose I will find out when the girls get here.
We get to see the girls again on Friday, via high resolution ultrasound. I can't wait to see how much they weigh now and how big they are. I can't wait to see that they are growing at the correct rate. I think it will help to encourage me to continue the big eating.
Last night I nightmared that I gave birth to the passengers and they looked like they look on the ultrasound, see-through and flat. I forgot their names and kept checking for their heartbeats. Breastfeeding them made them turn into less flat versions of themselves, but then they looked like baby birds when they first hatch. All veiny and purple and gross. And there was something about the ocean and being sweep up by waves.
Getting a slurpee at the 7-11 this weekend, the man that worked there didn't have the best English language skills. While checking out my boobs, he said, "You like slurpees? Is that why you are fat?" I should have been offended by this. Any normal person would have. I said, "No. I am fat because I am pregnant with twins. Before getting pregnant with twins, I lost 70 pounds. And now, I am fat again." To this he said, "I am so sorry." Which just made me laugh and laugh. Then he pointed to my wedding ring and said, "Oh I see now." It was so funny because this whole conversation went on as if he were flirting with me. I wonder if it is ok to call a woman fat in his culture? If that is a compliment. He was lucky he said it to me and not someone who would have been offended.
Speaking of weight. I have now gained 30 pounds since getting pregnant. I am weighing in at 257 and am fine with it. 22 weeks, 30 pounds. If I can get through these next 15 weeks or so gaining only a pound a week, I will be happy. It is weird. Since I lost 70 pounds before, anything less than that gained in a twin pregnancy is fine with me. My tummy is finally starting to get a little round... while some pregnant women get this little perfect round thing, I have seem to be growing a full square in the middle of my body. I remember how it was so cool to unearth my bones when losing the weight. Like an archaeologist digging for ancient history. Now, I am losing the bones again, under hard mounds of placenta and babies. I tried to find my pelvic bones yesterday, an amazing find some months ago, now hidden deep within me again. I wonder when I will see them again, if I will see them again. And I giggle at worrying over it. So far, pregnancy has only effected my middle, though. My neck and cheek bones are still on display. No matter what, I find it all utterly fascinating and wouldn't change a minute of it.
Today I am 15 weeks pregnant. 15 weeks! I feel like the weeks are spiraling away from me and before I know it, I will have two children.
We bought our first huge box of diapers this weekend. It had 228 diapers in it. I read that one baby will go through 3000 diapers in the first year. So, double that and you get 6000. 228 down.
Jeff and I spent some time with my extended family this weekend, who I haven't seen since before I got pregnant. I was telling my Aunt Katrina about how the babies told me they were twins before the machines did and all the other mystical craziness I believe I can sense about them. And suddenly the room was completely silent, everyone stopped their conversations to listen to this. And I felt a little silly, like the only person in a room who believes in ghosts. I hope they don't think I am crazy.
dreaming i am one of them
I dreamt the other night that I was one of my twin girls as a young adult. She was at a future-y party and met a boy who had snowflake tattoos on his face. They were blue and were like tears. He was an architect. She was falling in love with this boy. It was cold outside and she was wearing two hats, one on top of the other. He asked her why and she said one was for her sister, who wasn't there yet. She told him that her sister liked parties even less than she did.
what's going on with the passengers this week
Their skin is very thin, and blood vessels can be seen underneath. The skin is covered with a fine, fuzzy hair called lanugo, which will not fall out until the passengers near full-term. Their hearts are now pumping about 25 quarts of blood per day.
and how much do i weight?
I didn't want to weigh myself this morning. I thought, oh who cares what I weigh. I was a little afraid to see 250 on the scale. I hauled the scale out from under the bathroom sink, thinking about how this scale used to be such a source of joy. I stepped on it, thinking, again, who cares who cares who cares. And there it was, the new number. 244. Same as last week! I am holding at 18 pounds gained since I got pregnant. Not bad at all, considering all I do is eat. I was actually disappointed that I hadn't gained the 1 pound that I should have gained last week, but I suppose I can make up for that. It sounds like I am very emotionally involved in this whole weight gain. But surprisingly I am not. I weigh myself more out of curiosity than anything else. I was thinking the other day that I can't wait to stop eating so much. That it is almost a burden to know that I can eat whatever I want, within reason. I think I learned to love the weight loss journey eating habits. The small amounts of food, the restrictions. I am having a hard time writing about this without it sounding like I have an eating disorder. Nothing could be further from the truth, actually. I think that I am finally a healthy person when it comes to food.
Today I am wearing my first ever, and I mean ever, skirt that is NOT plus-sized. It just says XL on it and I bought it at Nordstroms beacuse it was on sale sale sale. It has a tiny pocket on the front. And what's more... it is slightly above my knee in length. IF there were any question as to whether the super fat girl is gone, there isn't one now.
Last night, I spent the whole evening packaging ninja necklaces in these little clear bags with silkscreened tags. So professional... pictures to come. I also watched my pretty, funny girls, the Gilmore Girls. Which makes me think this morning about what makes someone pretty and funny and why they are so important. Then i was wondering where smart fits in with pretty and funny and then I realized that smart is the foundation of pretty and funny. When I was depressed, I used to hate pretty and funny people, now I can't get enough of them. Now, I adore pretty and funny. I am a broken record with the pretty and funny.
This morning, a little birdie reminded me of my favorite band, Belle and Sebastian and I realized that I haven't listened to them in like 6 months. Hello, Suki, please play Belle and Sebastian. Now I am trying to squeeze as much of B&S out of her as I can before she runs out of juice. I started with the EP, "I am waking up to Us" because I love that and it is only 3 songs, but 3 GREAT songs. Starting Sunday night, all the boys around me will be british and also the girls, too. Hopefully, I will find a cute cybercafe in London so that I can blog it all.
THis all reminds me of the conversation that Brian, Jeff and I had about a certain Scottish actor's private parts. A conversation which included the word "dong" repeated over and over and over again by me over breakfast in a gay steakhouse. I love my life.
Oh, dyed my hair AGAIN last night. It is now blue and green and pink, but much much darker. It looks a little like fish scales or the color that meat turns when it starts to go bad. maybe not. I used the electric blue this time rather than the blue haired freak since the blue haired freak is slightly pale. Anyway, my hands are all blue, like I am a mechanic fixing something with blue juice rather than black oil.
I am going to enjoy my Belle and Sebastian. Old friends. Pretty and funny, but also smart.
second entry of the day:
brian imed me that he saw a guide dog at the airport, and that it was eating everyone's food. i copied his IM, but then lost it somehow... so this might not be what he wrote. i am picturing a seeing-eye dog, happily eating someone's cake or possibly some chicken nuggets. and everyone is happy and smiling because guide dogs seem so ignored. because you aren't supposed to pet them because they are at work. and i always worry that they have to pee. guide dogs are so helpful, but seem a little burdened, so the idea of them eating everyone's food is so marvelous. i want to throw a party for guide dogs.
someone is playing a saxophone outside and I can hear it up here on the 9th floor. It sounds like a funeral or a government song. maybe it is Taps or whatever. I don't know much about saxophone playing. Anyway, I want to have a party for guide dogs. They will dance and play ball and eat cake.
first entry of the day:
Something I have been saying lately...
Floss is the new lipstick. Well, it is true. I mean, I never wore lipstick, but it has totally been replaced by floss and if more women would replace their lipstick with floss, we would have cleaner gums. I just don't understand women who carry makeup with them. Well, I don't understand wearing it at all. I have been thinking about this a lot lately. I must look really pale all the time and I wonder if women who wear makeup think there is something wrong with me. I have been wanting to know how it feels to be other people lately, how other people see themselves... and me I guess. I am not even thinking about specific people, just looking at people on the street, I think, I wonder what it feels like to be that person. How very Quantum Leap of me.
I have been going to sleep so early lately. Last night, 10pm, I was out. Night before, 9:30, no need to even count my sheep. Sleep sleep sleep. I wonder what is going on. If I was in high school, I would worry that I had Mono. Haha. Everyone was always getting Mono in high school, which is funny because I kissed very few people in high school, maybe like, 3. I don't remember kissing being a huge deal in high school. How did I start talking about kissing? Once we tried to curse a girl in our class so that she wouldn't get better grades than my friend and get to be the Valedictorian over her. The girl came down with Mono. She still ended up Valedictorian. The Mono couldn't bring her down. Dude, I was a total geek in high school.
What else? I just ate a snickers. I don't even like snickers. I ate it to stay awake, which is weird because I have been going to bed early like a grandma. Curse that damn snickers. I have to remember to drink water next time I am sleepy or chew gum, instead of eat empty calories. Ugh. My new walk to work is 1.37 miles, the old walk was slightly less than a mile. So... it looks like I have added almost an extra mile a day.
My legs are like melting ice blocks.
I love dreaming. I love the nonsense of it. Last night, I ran into an old friend in an art museum that was filled like a thrift store, all jumbled in piles. The art was my own and my friends' and then other things like smiles and regular things like shoes. Anyway, the old friend was Andy Smrz. Where are you Andy Smrz? Andy was talking nonstop because we hadn't seen each other in years and years and I was trying to keep up with him and the art at the same time. Then I told him the story of the time in college when we used to drive to school together, which I think was only a very short time. And one time he got the flu and I had to take care of him, which I am not even sure is true in the real world. Then Andy tried to record everything I was saying on this big platter of cotton candy. But the sound kept falling off because cotton candy isn't very sturdy. If you are reading this and know Andy Smrz, tell him I am dreaming of him and cotton candy.
This is the second time in a year that I have dreamed of Andy Smrz. The other time, he had all these tubes of paint. And there was something else about art. It was also Halloween in the dream and he was dressed as he was in high school. Like he was dressed up as a former self. More weird. I love dreaming. I do. I do. I do.
My feet are cold from wearing mary janes in the rain. Today I am wearing orange. Tonight I will silkscreen shirts that say, We are so Doomed, which I have already added to the store.
Sam in England sent me the nicest virtual hug and Pagan in New Zealand wrote to me about how birds would make good surfers. The world is full of lovely girls.
Great Smallening Update
I am now at 69 pounds gone. My neck is getting soooo tiny and delicate. I fear it might snap. My ankles are aliens to me. And can I tell you again how cold I am? No new pictures yet, I will wait until i can say 75 pounds gone.
Good morning scale. 68 pounds gone.
The weekend was cranky with both Jeff and I having allergies and then forgeting to eat and then getting more cranky.
We met Brian at the new Gallery Place movie theater to see The Grudge, which was scary, but a crap movie. The three of us kept bracing for the next scare. We all talked alittle during the movie, which made it fun. Usually a no no, but this one needed it.
If I would have made this movie, I would have waited until like the last act and then turned the Sarah Michelle Gellar character into who we are all thinking she is: Buffy. ANd then Buffy would have called Giles and kicked that ghost's ass. Memo to SMG: you can't be anyone other than Buffy. Sorry. It is too late. Embrace it. Be Buffy.
I am working on some new art pieces, this time for real. They are spread out on the living room floor and Jeff keeps checking for glue or paint in the carpet. I have been a good girl about that so far, though. They might be added to the store tomorrow.
I dreamt the other night that I was flying over the ocean. Perhaps this is about my trip to London. But I am afraid of underwater, so I kept worrying I would dip into the water. I wish I knew what this stupid fear came from. I hate fear. It is the most useless thing. But there is this place past fear that I talk about alot, that I totally love. I love the thing just beyond fear. Next time you are afraid, try to get past it and let me know what you find.
My research into Kindergarten teacher-hood has had mixed results. People who I talk to either say it is the best thing in the world, or the worst thing in the world. Ugh, more research.
Special shout out to Ashley and Jessica for their recent amazing emails that made me happy cry. Lovely. If I haven't written you back, yet, know that I am about to. It is amazing how giving some people can be. Thank you.
Today's colors are orange and blue. Two oranges and two blues. I look like a candy wrapper.
As if you haven't seen enough pictures of me... Jeff took this one of me this morning. 67 pounds gone. Only posting it so that you can see me tiny and smiling and also so you can see my new hallway rug!
| | |
