When is the best day to start a "diet"? When are we least likely to set ourselves up for an epic failure? I can answer that..freaking never! I don't think there is any opportune day to start a diet, or anything else for that matter. I can't possibly imagine waking up nice and early on a Monday and thinking...WOW! I really hope to start the week eating rice cakes, dry fish and copious amounts of bland vegetables. And really why would you start mid week? I've already had a lunch of Cheetos, pop and a king size Oh Henry, a dinner of microwave pizza, and ate my weights worth of Wine Gums.Who am I kidding suddenly pledging allegiance to whole grain and broiled chicken.
I also refuse to start near my period. It would be really unfortunate for all around me if they had to experience me as bitch x 2. Food deprived and period ridden? It would be uglier than a blind zombie apocalypse during Mardi Gras. Just nasty. So I always wait, till the cravings and the urge to murder my husband has subsided.
So I haven't started my "diet" again. I know it's not a diet, but a life style change. I get it. But I haven't fully committed to it just yet. My husband is currently at work, so that's pretty much a free pass. If he's not here, it kind of gives me the right to eat crap. There is nothing wrong with mac'n'cheese and wieners for dinner. Or chips and chocolate. (I do feed my kids properly, but hey! Why should I eat properly if there's no one here to see it!) That being said it is always easier when he's here. I am forced to cook properly, and he is a big encouragement. Excuse #2...we have an all inclusive trip planned for February. Now..tell me this isn't justified? Like I am going to go to a resort with endless food and not eat myself stupid! Comm'on! Like I will say " Hmm...delicious desserts, coffees, blended cocktail...but wait! You mean I can give all that up for a nice apple and soda water?" Kiss my gelatinous ass. Not gonna happen.
When I return from our holiday, I will kick my ass into high gear. I will hunker down and do what is needed. I will whole heartedly make friends with quinoa, skim milk and gasp! cut ties with ice cream and midnight toast and peanut butter.
I don't lack the motivation. There is plenty of that out there. There are plenty of success stories. Lots of "It worked for me!" There are people who have done it. Sure, they're all motivating. Good for them. But what really motivates me is the people who never had to do it. The lucky ones who were born with the god given ability to eat whatever they like and don't ever have to worry about it. It's not that I want to look like them, or wish I was like them (some of these skinny broads look a little too much like prepubescent boys for me) It pushes me to excel at my mission. If you were just given the things others coveted as valuable, would you see it as such? Not to be to philosophical, but I would rather gain (no pun intended) these accomplishments through hard work and determination than have take it for granted and nor appreciate it. I am not saying all naturally fit people don't appreciate what has been given to them. I am saying that some really do take it for granted. Instead of being grateful for their slender, tight bodies, they bitch and moan that they can't wear certain clothes because they are to small. Or dress like Mormon house wives in an attempt thee mask their bodies. If you got it, frigging flaunt it!
Brings me to my next mission. I am going to put on one of those ridiculous "before" pictures. Like the ones you see on the commercials, or in People magazines "Half their Size" issues. The one with the chunky broad in an ill fitting bikini, thinking she looks like a million bucks. Only later to come to the realisation that she looks like a moron. I went looking for such an atrocity. There were a few, but they weren't really disgusting enough. Not to say I am the most photogenic person, but since I am a fat ass, I always make a conscience decision to look somewhat acceptable in public when cameras are present. I try to wear flattering clothes and pose in the least fat way! I will post one from this past summer, and one from my holiday. I will wear a shit eating grin, and a swimsuit.And we will all look at it and think, "Wow, did no one tell her she shouldn't wear that!" and I will reply yes, but unless you've ever had to take a self exposing "before" picture, you better shut the heck up. Stay tuned!
Sunday, 15 January 2012
Tuesday, 10 January 2012
Road Bumps..Lady Lumps
Holy Hannah!
It's been 2 months since I last posted..what the heck?!? I had the best intentions of becoming a narcissistic maniac blogger, and turned into a lame ass. I have excuses. Just like for everything else in my life, I have excuses. Legit, valid and super duper lame.
Let's get in our Delorian and travel back in time.All the way back to the year 2011. Remember that? The US killed Osama? Beyonce and Jay Z announced their pregnancy? I remained a fat ass? Ah, yes, it is all coming back to me now ( Cue Celine...)
Following my last entry, I was feeling really accomplished. I had received some really positive feedback and was generating the kind of discussion I had hoped for. I had confidence and was excited about my journey and about the people who loudly proclaimed their allegiance to the sweat pant mafia. I had received such great feedback, then BAM! (Or was it a Wham? Thud? Kaplow?) A person close to me, chimed in with the negativity. Not directed at my fatty-fat-fat or me in general, but at my method. They questioned why I would want to make myself so available to people I hardly know, and share my secrets. Now, this person knows me and has for a while. So really, me being fat wasn't a secret. It's not like I lived my life bound in saran wrap trying to hide the fact that I am 200+ pound broad. Really, it's not a secret. It's pretty freaking obvious! This person, then went on to ask if I didn't have better things to do? Implying that this was a waste of time and my self depreciating behaviour was keeping me from obtaining my goals. Listen ass clown, my goal is not to be a heifer, so I think I'm being really proactive. Needless to say, I was rattled by this reaction. I had to step inside myself and ask if I did truly have good intentions?
Physically, I was doing well too. I had started my cleanse (see next post on horrifying details!) and had set a game plan in motion. I had written out my goals, intentions and theoretically planned my mission into the holiday season. I had a whole big spiel prepared for sharing. On portion control, exercise, and the best way to knock the skinny bitch out who just ate a man size serving of cheese ball. Then... our life hit a road bump. My husband became very ill with Pancreatitis.He was hospitalised immediately and it was a hard time for us.
My cleanse went out the window the day he went in. I abandoned my dairy free, gluten free, rabbit diet with the exuberance of a school boy! Thank you stress....Screw you nasty herbs and flowers. I can't say I was upset about not getting to finish my cleanse, but I was upset I had made it 3 days on twigs and berries. (Not that kind..you sickos!) With my husband in the hospital and the kids in school, I spent my time with him. He was very sick and in a lot of pain. A treatment for Pancreatitis is to refrain from ingesting any food, including drinking water. With my husband exclusively surviving on an IV I filled the gaps. It was upsetting to see him in pain, and to see him so sickly. My husband is not a big man, and over the duration of his illness, he lost nearly 30 lbs. He did not really have 30 lbs to lose. To cover the spread, I put on 15. Yup, in the 2 weeks he was in the hospital I gained 15 pounds. Since he wasn't able to eat and I felt guilty eating in front of him, I ate alone. I would take the girls to school, hit Timmy's for a bagel and coffee, head to hospital. We'd hang out, he'd get more pain drugs, then I'd leave him to rest...and eat. McDonald, A & W, whatever. I'd go get my lunch, eat in the car on my way to run errands, then back to him. I'd go get my girls from school then head over to the grocery store. Get my stuff for dinner, and a snack for the kids and one for mom. Back to the hospital for another visit with the kids, then home. Dinner for 3, that could feed 10, bed for the girls and snacks for mommy. Oh yeah, it was a well earned 15 pounds.
My husband finally was given the OK to head home. We returned to our lives with more knowledge about his condition. Basically, as a preventative measure since he has a compromised pancreas and is prone to developing diabetes on both a genetic and physical level, we have had to overhaul our lifestyle. As a result, we are embarking together on a healthier lifestyle to help save my husband from further complications. I guess the same goes for me too. Essentially, it is best if he eats like a diabetic. Low carb, low fat, cleaner eating.
So, I now have a partner in my journey. He doesn't need to lose weight, but the complete overhaul of the way we view food is for the both us now.We are going to share in the adventure. Meaning, I will cook crap like Bulgar, and tell him it's delicious. He'll eat it, then call me a liar and say it taste like shit. Then we'll laugh and say "well, at least it's good for us!"
So thanks for sticking around. I promise I am back with more asinine tales of my fat ass. It won't always be sunshine and lollipops, but I appreciate the support. As I sit here in my sweats, I am so thankful to have people to share this with. It feels a little less lonesome.
Chubby Mamma,
Lindsey
It's been 2 months since I last posted..what the heck?!? I had the best intentions of becoming a narcissistic maniac blogger, and turned into a lame ass. I have excuses. Just like for everything else in my life, I have excuses. Legit, valid and super duper lame.
Let's get in our Delorian and travel back in time.All the way back to the year 2011. Remember that? The US killed Osama? Beyonce and Jay Z announced their pregnancy? I remained a fat ass? Ah, yes, it is all coming back to me now ( Cue Celine...)
Following my last entry, I was feeling really accomplished. I had received some really positive feedback and was generating the kind of discussion I had hoped for. I had confidence and was excited about my journey and about the people who loudly proclaimed their allegiance to the sweat pant mafia. I had received such great feedback, then BAM! (Or was it a Wham? Thud? Kaplow?) A person close to me, chimed in with the negativity. Not directed at my fatty-fat-fat or me in general, but at my method. They questioned why I would want to make myself so available to people I hardly know, and share my secrets. Now, this person knows me and has for a while. So really, me being fat wasn't a secret. It's not like I lived my life bound in saran wrap trying to hide the fact that I am 200+ pound broad. Really, it's not a secret. It's pretty freaking obvious! This person, then went on to ask if I didn't have better things to do? Implying that this was a waste of time and my self depreciating behaviour was keeping me from obtaining my goals. Listen ass clown, my goal is not to be a heifer, so I think I'm being really proactive. Needless to say, I was rattled by this reaction. I had to step inside myself and ask if I did truly have good intentions?
Physically, I was doing well too. I had started my cleanse (see next post on horrifying details!) and had set a game plan in motion. I had written out my goals, intentions and theoretically planned my mission into the holiday season. I had a whole big spiel prepared for sharing. On portion control, exercise, and the best way to knock the skinny bitch out who just ate a man size serving of cheese ball. Then... our life hit a road bump. My husband became very ill with Pancreatitis.He was hospitalised immediately and it was a hard time for us.
My cleanse went out the window the day he went in. I abandoned my dairy free, gluten free, rabbit diet with the exuberance of a school boy! Thank you stress....Screw you nasty herbs and flowers. I can't say I was upset about not getting to finish my cleanse, but I was upset I had made it 3 days on twigs and berries. (Not that kind..you sickos!) With my husband in the hospital and the kids in school, I spent my time with him. He was very sick and in a lot of pain. A treatment for Pancreatitis is to refrain from ingesting any food, including drinking water. With my husband exclusively surviving on an IV I filled the gaps. It was upsetting to see him in pain, and to see him so sickly. My husband is not a big man, and over the duration of his illness, he lost nearly 30 lbs. He did not really have 30 lbs to lose. To cover the spread, I put on 15. Yup, in the 2 weeks he was in the hospital I gained 15 pounds. Since he wasn't able to eat and I felt guilty eating in front of him, I ate alone. I would take the girls to school, hit Timmy's for a bagel and coffee, head to hospital. We'd hang out, he'd get more pain drugs, then I'd leave him to rest...and eat. McDonald, A & W, whatever. I'd go get my lunch, eat in the car on my way to run errands, then back to him. I'd go get my girls from school then head over to the grocery store. Get my stuff for dinner, and a snack for the kids and one for mom. Back to the hospital for another visit with the kids, then home. Dinner for 3, that could feed 10, bed for the girls and snacks for mommy. Oh yeah, it was a well earned 15 pounds.
My husband finally was given the OK to head home. We returned to our lives with more knowledge about his condition. Basically, as a preventative measure since he has a compromised pancreas and is prone to developing diabetes on both a genetic and physical level, we have had to overhaul our lifestyle. As a result, we are embarking together on a healthier lifestyle to help save my husband from further complications. I guess the same goes for me too. Essentially, it is best if he eats like a diabetic. Low carb, low fat, cleaner eating.
So, I now have a partner in my journey. He doesn't need to lose weight, but the complete overhaul of the way we view food is for the both us now.We are going to share in the adventure. Meaning, I will cook crap like Bulgar, and tell him it's delicious. He'll eat it, then call me a liar and say it taste like shit. Then we'll laugh and say "well, at least it's good for us!"
So thanks for sticking around. I promise I am back with more asinine tales of my fat ass. It won't always be sunshine and lollipops, but I appreciate the support. As I sit here in my sweats, I am so thankful to have people to share this with. It feels a little less lonesome.
Chubby Mamma,
Lindsey
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