Stress & Skinny Jeans Don't Mix

So, as of yesterday I canceled my monthly subscription to Weight Watchers AGAIN.  This is probably the third or fourth time I've started and then stopped.  I have to admit that when I am dedicated to doing it, I usually lose about 2-3 pounds a week.  The problem comes in when life happens.  I mean sometimes you just want to eat something without having to do a math equation beforehand.  Once I start doing that, I do it again, and again, and again.  Next thing I know I'm dreading going to weigh in and then before I know it I'm wondering why the heck I'm spending $40 a month for nothing. 

Let me just say that I absolutely HATE the way I look in pants and because of that I dread going to the store to buy them.  Well, that's not entirely true.  The part that I really hate is standing in front of the mirror of truth in the dressing room and facing a large person whom I try to avoid looking at at all costs.  To be forced to gaze upon the thunder thighs under a flourescent light is a fate far worse than Chinese water torture could ever be.  You can see why my closet boasts a whopping two or three pairs of pants, two of which have an elastic waist.  Hopefully I'm not alone in this. 

I have decided to return to school to get a degree in nursing and begin my "official" nursing school classes in about two weeks.  The stress level is through the roof.  A summer couped up with 3 boys in 100 degree heat didn't help either.  Let's just say that ice cream with strawberry topping and whipped cream on top quickly became my "medicine" of choice.  I jokingly call it my "shame bowl" to my husband.  Makes me feel better for about 5 minutes while I'm eating but after the "shame bowl" is gone, well, shame ensues. 

I wish I could say that was the end of my problems but now I'm finding myself staring at skinny, young girls in class and wondering how the hell they stay so skinny.  "I bet they do yoga."  "I wonder if they have kids."  "Look at her drinking that bottled water and snacking on a healthy snack, the nerve!"  Oh, and I got hooked watching the gymnastics portion of the Olympics this summer and found myself sitting on the couch eating some snack and critiquing the moves of these supreme athletes.  Like who the hell am I to comment on their routines?!?  I had to do 25 jumping jacks in class today (to stress a point about taking pulses) and I was actually winded.  Uggh! 

Oh and if I have one more person tell me that I should post a picture on Facebook, I'm going to SCREAM.  I do not want my fatness documented in any shape or form.  For all of you "skinny people", let me explain how this works.  Here are the rules for fat people:

1.  If nobody sees you eat it, there are no calories.
2.  If you avoid cameras and pictures of all kinds that would capture your said fatness for all of        eternity, later if you ever lose the weight you can vehemently deny ever being fat.
3.  If I WANTED to post a picture on Facebook, I would have so DON'T ASK.  See rule #2.
4.  Dressing rooms and full length mirrors are to be avoided at all costs.
5.  Ice cream has undeniable healing powers.

Let me stress that I did not make up these rules.  They are simply understood by all people of fatness.  It's like once you become a member of the "fat club" you just know the rules.  Now that I've poured my soul out and revealed the top secret rule of fat-hood I think I'm going to have a healing bowl of ice cream.....

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Amazing Saturday

I may have mentioned before that my son, Tyler, has special needs. When he was just a toddler, doctors threw out words like Autism and Asperger's Syndrome and Pervasive Developmental Disorder-NOS. From that point on, physical, occupational and speech therapists have been just another part of Tyler's day to day reality. He has come a LONG, LONG way. His behavior is still a problem now and again, but I'm really proud of the progress he has made. My other two sons are typically developing. Tyler's 6 year old brother was in a T-Ball league last spring and it was hard on Tyler not being able to play. He didn't understand why he couldn't play baseball just like his brother. I had a hard time explaining it too. After all, they play together at home. He plays with other kids at school, so why on earth couldn't he play baseball just the same as every other kid.



Today I took Tyler to something called Challenger Baseball. Apparently some guy just saw the need out there and created this league all by himself. What I witnessed today was amazing. When Tyler arrived, he was given a complete baseball uniform; shirt, pants, hat and even socks. As he was paired with a buddy, I looked around at a sea of parents and kids. There were kids in wheelchairs, with walkers, kids with Downs Syndrome, kids with other developmental delays all together playing baseball. In a world where these kids struggle to fit in, they were in their element to be sure. Everyone fit in, no matter what their abilities. I was absolutely amazed. What a great Saturday!

My Song

Once in awhile there's a song that just hits the nail right on the head. It sums up your feelings exactly. In fact, you almost feel like the writer of the song has been spying on your life because how could they write a song that conveyed your feelings to such a degree of accuracy? Today I listened to just such a song. I dedicate this one to my ex-husband and to my mother-in-law....

Perfect Bathing Suit For My Mommy Bod

Being originally from the east coast, I used to worship the water and especially loved to go to the beach.  Since I have had children and blew up like a blimp, there are parts of my body that haven't seen sunlight in so long that I consider that skin to once again be solar-virgin territory.  I'm quite sure that if I ever did put on a bathing suit again, that there are laws somewhere that would prohibit such a display.  The reflection alone would cause certain permanent vision damage, let alone the emotional damage that would be done by my thunder thighs and cellulite.

I picture small children running for the safety of their homes and men suddenly changing their sexual orientation.  Young women without children, this is a warning to you.  This is an example of the type of bathing suit that I would have worn without any problems back in my 20's:

And this is the only suit that I would consider wearing in public now:

So if you're ever at a beach somewhere and you see a fat lady walking around with a bathing suit from the 1900's, come up and say "Hi!".  It'll be me....Spongemom Stretchpants!

Just Another Road Rage Victim?

Yesterday my husband and I took my 16 month old for his very first dentist's visit.  The only pediatric dentist that we could find was about 25 miles away in an area I'm not that familiar with.  It seemed like it took forever to get there.  We missed our exit on the highway once and then got stopped at an intersection for a funeral procession.  We were late and I hate being late.

Finally we arrive in the business park where the office is located.  I'm driving through the parking lot "streets" in the business park.  There's a UPS truck parked on the opposite side of the road and a car coming from the opposite direction.  I went ahead and stopped so she could go by and so I could look and see if I could find any address on any building.  I'm stopped on MY side of the road and the woman passes the UPS truck on my side of the road and proceeds to yell out her window, "Watch out where you're going!"  What?  I'm not even MOVING!  I'm parked, woman!  I'm parked to allow your sorry butt to get around the UPS truck.

Somewhere there's a village missing their idiot.

Makeover and A Meltdown

This week has been a doozey!  My husband has just been forced to quit his job.  We think that he can get with some of the contacts he's made in the car industry and do some work on his own, but that hasn't been set up as of yet.  The guys in the car industry around here are having a rough time of it.  Lots of the car lots are hardly selling anything.  I think in the month of March my husband made $300 and no that's not a typo.  It's not that he can't sell, in fact he sells when no one else is selling.

He told me that he used to work for a company that once flew him out to some convention to sell "talking heads" for $15,000 each.   What he was selling was actually a box which would make whoever was in the box appear to only be a head floating in mid-air.  I'm just telling you what he told me.  So, nobody else could sell these things so they sent him in.  He sold two in one day.  Suffice it to say that he can sell anything.

The Before Pic

So, stress is high and money is tighter than tight.  Honestly, it's getting quite tough to survive.  When I get stressed I stay busy doing all kinds of things.  This past weekend I decided that my 16 month old needed a haircut terribly.  Knowing that we could not afford to fork over $15 or $20 for a haircut, I saw this as my opportunity to save some money.  It wasn't like I was a total novice at this.  When I was a single mom some 9 years ago, I used to always cut my son's hair with clippers, especially in the summer.  I actually got quite good at it.  Most people even said that I did a better job than the people at the beauty shops.

The After Pic

I felt pretty confident that I could handle a quick trim, the only problem was I couldn't find my normal clippers.  The only thing I could find was a pair of clippers that my parents sent to me.  I figured, "What the hay, clippers are clippers", so I put on the number 4 spacer and went to town.  The first swipe or two I thought that the cut looked too short.  "Oh my Lord!", I thought, "I can see his scalp!"  This is cutting WAY too short!  I guess stress got the best of me and I just totally lost it.  You thought that my 16 month old would be the one to have the meltdown, but no....it was me.  I sobbed uncontrollably for about 15 minutes.  The stress of my husband having no job and money being so tight really got to me.  Not to mention I had sheared my precious little baby.  I sent my husband out with some money that we scraped together to get him "fixed".
Poor little guy!  Everything turned out ok, though.  No permanent harm done.  Now if my husband can only get a decent job!  Wish us luck!