"Hmmph..my jeans are extra snug.. they must be shrinking."
"Wow. My favorite t-shirt is showing my muffin top even more now."
"These capris fit last summer. I don't get it."
"The calibration on this scale is definitely way off. Yeah, that's gotta be it."
Whatever thoughts race through my head, they all are avoiding something that I have to face. I'm getting fatter again. I'm only a pound or 2 shy of that triple digit with the 2 in front of it. It feels awful. Really awful. Like a punch in the boob.
I spent almost a full year at a weight that I was comfortable with. Comfortable enough to feel like exercise and continuing to watch what I shoved it my mouth hole would make an even bigger difference.
"I'll sign up for Zumba classes!!" "I want to join a yoga class!" "I'm going to walk around the school track several times many days a week!"
I never did. I can make up all the excuses I want..about not having a second car.. enough bus fare to get me there.. or the fact that I'd have to pay for Natalie to stay in the daycare area so I can work out.. or that it coincides with around the time I'd need to pick up James from school.. or that every time I want to go to the weekend class the husband has a lab to do at school..blah BLAH blah. The fact is, I never made it a priority. I never went out to purchase the proper exercise shoes. I never did anything to put my health first.
I'm eating late at night again. I'm eating too often. I'm eating too much.
I move my hand past the fresh fruit to grab a yogurt full of saturated fat instead. (Oh Noosa.. you cruel thing you..so tasty). I let the bananas rot and instead eat handfuls of peanut butter cookies. I eat S'more PopTarts for breakfast instead of that really good quality steel cut oatmeal. I drink coffee LOADED with sugary creamer instead of making that yummy tea with a little honey. I've gotten really lazy with my dinnertime plans since Rick isn't around during the week to eat with us.
I did manage to stop my Nutella addiction. Completely.
I hardly ever eat white bread.
I put down that bag of potato chips at the grocery store and bought unsalted pistachios instead.
I eat a big salad every couple of days, sometimes for a few days in a row.
I eat 1 or 2 healthier yogurts every day.
I still have to make major.. MAJOR changes in my life. I no longer work for 7.5 hours straight a day working up a sweat, scrubbing, wiping, bending, and moving quickly to clean at the nursing home. The fat used to just melt off of me without even trying. Now, it's piling on even faster.
I'm feeling fat again. When I reached 188 pounds, I felt lighter..I actually felt pretty damn good. My energy level was normal. Now, it's a huge effort to move. I'm always tired.. always making excuses as to why sitting down is a great idea. I get bursts of energy and I spend some days barely sitting down. But some days, I don't do very much. Even the kids are noticing. James told me yesterday to lose weight so I can be skinny. It was out of the blue. He said in a very nice way.. he didn't sound like an asshole. He saw that I wasn't happy with what I saw on the scale. He's right.. I need to lose weight so I can be skinny. He thinks that my 188 self was skinny, so I'll take it.
I have to make goals.. I need... no... I HAVE to stick to them. I'm 33 years old. I have to feel good. I want to live a long time. I have so many other things that I need to do with my life as the kids grow up and as I near the big 4-0. The kids are old enough to see me feel miserable and in it's most simple way, it makes them worry. We have enough crap to worry about.
I know that I'll never be able to wear a bikini. Shit... I'm so fine with that. I'm covered in stretch marks from carrying 2 heavy bowling balls in my guts. But I would love to wear a one piece and not feel my legs jiggle. UGH. I want to be a size 14. Yes.. a size 14 sounds like heaven. My hips and bones are not ever going to allow any smaller size to squeeze onto my Polish frame. It just won't ever happen and I'm so fine with that, too. I want to feel strong. I want my stomach to jiggle less. I want to have better posture. How do I even do that? Where do I begin? My gosh....
Yeah, what I have is definitely not jam.. this is jelly ...and yes, it shakes.