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Good-bye 2017

48 minutes left in 2017. 48 minutes left to accomplish my 2017 resolutions.  Probably not going to happen.  Another year has gone by of feeling like a stranger in my own body.  Of having to move my belly fat out of the way to get dressed.  Of getting winded walking up and down the stairs to do laundry.  Another summer passed being uncomfortable in a bathing suit.  And now another winter approaches where my snow pants are three sizes too small and hang awkwardly in my closet.  All my winter clothing is tight and I'm too ashamed to walk into a store and buy a bigger size.  I hate my body.  I know I'm supposed to feel all refreshed and renewed at the prospect of another new year looming.  Another new beginning.  Another chance to finally wake up and get my shit together.  But right now I'm feeling like it's another opportunity to fail and disappoint myself.  Disappoint my family.  Be the fattest person at another family reunion.  I don't even know what to do
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Recent posts

Bathing Suit Shopping

Bathing suit shopping has always always always been torture.  Even back when I was a skinny little 130 pound teenager I could find horrible things about my body in those dressing room mirrors.  I dreaded it every year.  Still do.  But I've had the same bathing suit for probably 7 years.  It's time for a new one. A couple friends of mine recommended the Catlina brand suits at WalMart.  Cheap, tummy control, cute prints, seems too good to be true.  But they all swore they were awesome.  So I went shopping.  With three kids.  I picked a suit off the rack that said it was my size, checked out, and came home.  (Because lets be honest.  Swimsuit shopping is bad enough.  Trying on said swim suits in WalMart with three kids in two is more torture than I care to endure.) Well. How about no. First, I could barely get it up over my hips.  I thought "hey, this tummy control is going to be GREAT". Ha. Then I got it up to my boobs.  And I couldn't reign the girls in
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Water Aerobics

At the YMCA I go to, our little workout area looks through a window into the pool.  And every so often I'm there at the same time as water aerobics.  I see all these little old ladies in their swim splashing around with these cute little foam dumbbells and watch them "run" back and forth across the pool.  How cute.  That can't possibly be "real" exercise. Fast forward to today.  I was looking at the group exercise schedule and it just so happened that the H2O Fitness to the Max class fit in perfectly with my evening timetable.  And I really wanted to drop my kids off at childwatch and workout without REALLY working out.  So it seemed like a perfect fit. So I show up and I'm the youngest person there by like 20 years (until my amazing friend showed up to help me enjoy this easy class and chat while we splashed around in the water). We started by running and skipping and galloping back and forth. Then we got out those cute foam dumbbells.  And I star
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222.8

Two hundred twenty-two point eight. That's how much I weigh. The day I found out I was pregnant with my first child I swore up and down I would *never* let my weight hit 200 pounds - even while pregnant.  The day I gave birth to him I was 213 pounds. I weigh more now then I did at 42 weeks pregnant. I've asked myself many times "what went wrong?  How did I end up this way?"  And I'm not sure I really know the answer.  Age is a factor I'm sure.  As is having three pregnancies, three c-sections, and now three kids.  I've seen my doctor about it.  There isn't anything wrong on any of my blood tests.  My thyroid looks great.  My insulin levels are a bit high, but my blood sugar levels are perfect. My hormones are a bit wacky, so PCOS is a possibility but I have a very regular cycle and have no trouble getting pregnant so that doesn't really fit either. I'm just fat. Two hundred and twenty-two pounds fat. And I just can't be this f
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