Weighing Matters

my journey to b.e.t.t.e.r

put on your big-girl panties

I don’t know. My daughter is nagging me to post. She says I did so well for the first month, and half of the second month. It’s now been ten days without writing and I can’t post a decent post! I’m down on me [again]. This time with good reason. I am such an idiot. I’m so annoying and so irritating. I’m forgetful and repetitive. I’m just plain doddery and getting as useless as an old broken-down horse.

Serious.

Why all this petty, self-loathing, self pity? [Well, I’ll just tell you . . .] I just got back from a family reunion and I feel crappy about most of it. I made a fool of myself on so many occasions that I, a lifetime COUNTER of everything from lines and squares and light fixtures, and fence posts, and details [like chandelier teardrops] in temples, and levis going in the washer, and then coming back out again [I mean really, I KNOW washers eat socks, but never levis! — so why do I count them? One time I was annoyed at a co-worker and counted all the drips that his broken garbage made on my commons floor and then proceeded to tell people that there were 109 drips on the floor for Pete’s sake!] [like they care!!!!]

I digress.

Anyhoo, I was saying. I, a lifetime counter, even lost track of how many times I made a total moron of myself. I’m especially horrified about when I tried to share a few of my personal thoughts with family members in our Sunday meeting. I truly am horrified at the pathetic and idiotic [oh, see, I’m repeating] things that came out of my mouth. I felt embarrassed. I am ashamed.

My ‘nurturing me’ — the one with occasional and limited common sense [whose age seemingly fluctuates between about 6-years-old and perhaps twelve, but somehow has my best interests at heart and usually attempts to foster me . . .] — says, “So you’re an idiot. It’s not the end of the world. Don’t go gaining a ton of weight over it! Things will be alright.” My ‘insecure-mean self says, “Wow, you really blew it. Instead of waltzing in there all cool and trim and firm and suave and savvy and full of relevance and value, [like you planned for the past three months!] you pretty much proved, instead, how insignificant and ancient and boring you really are. You sabotaged your, so called, journey to b.e.t.t.e.r health plan for the two weeks immediately before the reunion, you haven’t exercised for as many days, and you are way past prime, honey, so why don’t you just give up the masquerade! You were heaving and puffing and sweating and ridiculously lame and practically pre-Alzheimer’s.” [Admittedly, not very nice self-talk! I have similar on-going conversations inside my head all day long!]

My ‘nurturing me’ says back to ‘insecure-mean self “So, put on your big-girl panties and get over it!”

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Serious.

“Just start a new day, look for the best in people, give yourself a hug, pray for those with heartache, be grateful for all you have, enjoy special moments and appreciate extraordinary friendships,” ‘nurturing me’ continues in a rare, but exceptional moment of clarity.

I love clarity.

July 20, 2009 Posted by | Pot hole! | 4 Comments

I don’t really mind the flu

Invisible Grandma[Invisible Grandma with oodles of glow sticks.]

An eventful [and foodiful] 4th of July it was! [Now really, why is Spellcheck underlining ‘foodiful?’ Surely it’s a word! It’s definitely a feeling!] After skipping out on my 40th Class reunion in exchange for spending time with Scott and Andie, and Tracy and her bunch, and spending 5 days of unbridled eating, it feels good to get back on track and back to exercising. With two days of stomach flu, [a blessing in disguise] I’m only up one and a half [yes halves count a lot!] pounds, so back to the plan. What I really miss is feeling good about exercising. It’s amazing to me how quickly muscle tone, firmness and good posture disappear after only ten days to two weeks of lounging around and lifting nothing heavier than a [oft-times plastic] fork.

The week was full of shopping, parades, shopping, an America’s Hope concert, shopping, two firework extravaganzas with 3D glasses, fluorescent glo-sticks and necklaces, near hurricane weather [spent hunkering under an easy-up shader, with four of us holding on to each corner while everyone else disappeared to their cars — we’re hardy folk!]

Mid-Hurricane[Mid-Hurricane — notice the look of fear on Annesley’s face]

Playing Catch with Annesley[A few minutes in between the hurricanne and the downpour, playing catch with Annesley.]

The Menan parade was all that was promised. Tractors, fire trucks, four wheelers, the chocolate milk semi. [Please feel free to re-live the entire parade with me below.] The only borderline negative was being totally encroached upon by some near-hillbilly types who smoked, yelled their toothless vulgarities and fought over the saltwater candy. [RASTUS! I tode you, put dat canny down, dat MY canny! RAAASTUS] One ‘uni-person’ kept us guessing his/her gender throughout the entire parade, and one [unmistakable] female flopped her huge [barely tank-top covered hanging-out-all-over] breasts around, us ducking so as not to get knocked out over [thus missing the entire parade!]

Daughter Mikelle and boyfriend surprised us by showing up Saturday and playing games at the park until one in the morning. We also had a ROOK showdown, played hours of redneck golf and a few Chess face-offs. A really fun time with family and friends.

Reality Check. I’m still at 150 pounds, which is exactly what I was back on May 28. So enough of this lazy silliness, back to eating healthy, keeping goals in mind, feeling the need to do what I can to be healthy and energetic and whole. If I had been on track all this time, surely I would have been to goal [141] by now.

[For those who just can’t get enough of small town Fourth of July.]

Tractor Pulling Empty Wagon[Big John, Little John (Deer, that is)]

1 milk truck [handing out thousands of chocolate milk cartons]
1 sheriff
11 assorted fire vehicles
5-man color guard
a high school band
6 four wheelers
[1 pulling a wagon and shoveling up poo at the end of the parade]
7 classic cars
3 cool cars
12 vehicles that were neither classic nor cool [They may have gotten into the parade by mistake, just heading to the gas station for a Hi C]
14 horses
6 miniature horses
11 wagons [mostly behind horses]
1 undertaker [seriously!]
7 apparatus, which could questionably be considered ‘floats’
1 mo-ped
2 motorcycles
3 ATVs
5 bikes/scooters
one missing child vehicle [really, really sad, this one!]
8 tractors
1 dune buggy
1 Hummer [really in a class of it’s own] [got many applause!]
1 old engine [I heard it was a “marsher” apparently used 90 years ago to irrigate.]
2 cheer squads [even dressed quite modestly by cheer standards]
a dance team [as well]

8 Tractors[I’m just saying . . . 8 tractors in a row.]

July 10, 2009 Posted by | Weight just a minute | 1 Comment

tractors and a milk truck

Been putting this off for too long. Keep thinking I can get back to 149 -150 so I can feel good about posting but I’m not sure I can do it! I’ve been very busy for over a week, sneaking in little [big] snacks after hubby goes to sleep. He left two bags of snack-size candy bars on the fridge and Cookies and Cream inside the freezer. Been thinking I can get back to 149-150 before I go to my daughter’s house for the Fourth but I’m not sure that’s going to happen either. I cancelled going to my 4oth Year Class Reunion. [Something I have been looking forward to for months! I was going to sashay in there all trim and slim and gorgeous and watch people’s jaws drop. But no.] Gave up on me. Instead, I’m heading to Tracy’s to see kids and grandkids and fireworks and, of course, the Menan Parade with their 32 assorted tractors and the milk truck. That’s all! Just the tractors and the milk. Why couldn’t I be more like that? They could care less what anyone else thinks of them! They are so stinking happy it’s the 4th of July and that everyone in Menan loves tractors.

Some people even ride their riding lawn mowers in the parade. Seriously.

And the strange thing is, everyone is happy. They are content, secure, satisfied and assured. They don’t care that just 20 miles away there is a huge, two-hour parade with every high school marching band in seven counties and forty nine thousand people watching. The streets are crowded with blankets and umbrellas along a fifteen-mile tree-lined route. No, the Menan parade doesn’t care one bit.

I want to be like that. I want to be content, secure, satisfied and assured.

Today for the first time in over a month I felt really crappy when my friends at work were feeling sorry for a fat person we all know. I took it personal again. I stayed quiet, knowing I couldn’t join the conversation because I had gained back 3 pounds that had been so hard to lose but so easy to find.

I stayed quiet and felt embarrassed and weak and inferior and self conscious. The old me doesn’t feel so good right now.

July 1, 2009 Posted by | Weight just a minute | 2 Comments