Incognito Bandito

I went shopping for some jeans yesterday as I seem to be in that netherland of women's and misses sizes: 18W are a bit too big, Misses 16 too small. So rather than continuing to run up the shipping fees equivalent to a small Central American country's GDP, I decided to pay a visit my old fallback - Lane Bryant.

I settled on a pair of black stretch denims with the bootcut leg - just what the fashion experts tell you to wear for a more slimming profile. But I don't get why LB is falling in line with every other clothing outfitter in having the newer, modified waistbands that don't actually come up to your waist. The jeans fit great every place but the waistband. So stop calling them waistbands and call them what they really are - tummy gouging tourniquets. As if I needed the feeling of something more hanging on to my hips and stomach than this ever-present pudge.

But the worst thing of all was having to carry the Lane Bryant bag all around the rest of the mall with me for all to see. I might as well have been carrying a bag that read "Wide Load". I wished I had another bag - a brown paper bag - to either put the LB bag in or wear over my head. Just another reason to keep losing the weight.

I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues

As winter drags into its final months (we hope!), it is taking its toll on everyone. Coupled with the lousy economy, it's hard to feel positive about much these days. Lots of our fellow bloggers are struggling to stay focused and positive. And maybe we're not hearing from friends and family as frequently as usual. But there's something we can all do about it. Let's pull each other closer during these down times. If you haven't heard from someone in a long time, call or write them. Lots of folks retreat into the shadows when going through a hard time and would be so grateful to someone reaching out to them.

Better days are ahead for us all. If you think a friend may be struggling, jump in and help. A kind word, an understanding smile or the sound of your voice could make all the difference to a friend in need.

Hell Week

Okay, so it's school vacation week here (which is why I haven't written) and just when I thought things couldn't get worse with mood swings and a bored 13 year old, we received word that my husband's dear aunt passed away. She was elderly and just wanting to die but still it is a sad time.

Fast forward to today and the task at hand: outfitting the aforementioned 13 year old with appropriate mourning wear. My son has not gone through the vertical growth spurt yet and so is hovering inbetween boy's and men's wear and it is not an easy chasm to bridge. I was also trying to be sensitive to his size issues - he is approxmately 5'2" and 142 pounds. I get it from all sides about his weight and asked constantly by his doctors (in front of him, no less) if I have concerns about his size. I always say no (and really, who am I to throw stones?). I am determined that my little man never be treated as some freak of nature as I was at that age. The teen years are hard enough on a kid without his own mother jumping on his case about weight. Even into my late 40's my mother was dropping hurtful "hints" about my weight which only made me turn to food that much more. After all, I thought, I must be some real loser if even my mother comments about how fat I am. You think I'm fat now, Mom? Just watch this!

And so when we found a suit in a "husky" size, I didn't mention a thing. He was embarrassed to lift his shirt so I could see the fit of the pants and I held my tongue. I am not going to add to his misery and embarrassment. I'll get him through this pudgy phase but I'll do it without humiliating him so that years down the road, he still isn't coping with the whole self-loathing thing that still haunts me. My mission is to set a good example for him by losing all this weight I'm carrying around - not by badgering him into submission.

On the upside, I was able to wiggle myself into some size 16W blouses. It took hours to find something not made of spandex and suited for a crack whore but I did it - and a size smaller than my last mall outing.

We both did enough walking today that it counts for more than my usual workout. And in typical fashion for any of my shopping excursions at my present weight (as well as my son's), the sweating and swearing simply added to the overall calories-burned total for the day.

Aunt Wendy, rest in peace. We love you.

One Step Forward...No Looking Back?

As I'm about to transition to a smaller size, I find myself uncertain about throwing out my "big" clothes. I know I should - I don't want to allow myself any wiggle room when it comes to backsliding - but I'm filling my head up with stupid excuses not to: I'm too cheap to buy "big" clothes again should I ever need to, I didn't get enough wear out of a certain item, etc. - everything except saying to myself "Goodbye and good riddance, sayonara forever". I know this is just my insecurity kicking in - like I don't have enough faith in myself to keep losing and doing the right thing - I have this horrible little niggling thought in the back of my head that says "You'll be back".

I'm sure I'm not the only one who's struggled with this. How have any of you handled it? I really want to push myself past this little hurdle. Help!

Cold Case

I have been away for the past few days because of this miserable cold. I haven't been this sick in years and it's all happening with many social engagements coming up that will now have to be canceled - and my social life is generally very pathetic. I liken it to the phone not ringing all day long until you're in the bathroom. Rats.

Exercise and a well-balanced diet have gone out the window. I just don't care. Maybe it's because my head feels like it's encased in cement. On the plus side, I am loving all this chicken soup I'm sippping but the sodium has me feeling the size of the Hindenburg and stretching the outer limits of my sweatpants (Oh, the humanity!). I have cabin fever big time even though I generally enjoy my alone time (not Unabomber alone time but a nice healthy avoidance of annoying people) - so much so that I envy the trip to CT to visit relatives today that my husband and son are on. I have sent along my little Valentine's packages to them but not my germs (altho some are more than deserving of the latter).

I wish you all a Happy Valentine's Day. Hearts and hugs all around.

Boy Scouts and L.L. Bean

Yesterday was a varied day. Things started on an up note as I tried on the size 18W stretch jeans I had just purchased from L.L. Bean online. I was a little worried as this was a size lower than the 20W I'm wearing right now, which are a little baggy. My fragile little ego was holding its breath as I tried them on; ever so scared that the jeans would issue some sort of audible alert like, "Are you kidding?!! You don't seriously think you can fit that ass into these pants, do you?!!" (My inner critic is very sarcastic.) But...they were TOO BIG!! Woo-hoo!! Size 16W, here we come!

Luckily, before my ego had a chance to run away with itself and, no doubt, give itself permission to slack off a bit after this latest little victory, I attended my son's annual Boy Scout dinner later that night. (And if you've ever thought there were just one or two ways to prepare mac & cheese, you need to consult with a Boy Scout mom. It was a veritable smorgasbord of fromage-covered carbs.) As I brought my right hand up to cover my heart for the Pledge of Allegiance, I found that I had to extend my upper arm a little further out so my hand could actually clear my huge boobs to get to my heart. So much for slacking off. My little reward to myself for this latest victory will be to stay on course and not use it as an excuse to fall off the wagon so that some day soon, I'll be ordering up some size 14's..

Dear Weight Watchers....

Dear Weight Watchers:

Hmmm, how can I put this politely? Back the hell off. I mean, please back the hell off. I received yet another of your New Year's "hints" in the mail that I just might need to come back in. It's true - I am overweight. But I'm over you. We've been off and on for years and while I always lost weight under your program, the minute I ventured off it, the weight - plus a lot of its friends - always found its way back.

I'm not saying you don't have a successful product - you do. It's just not working for me. I loved the last meeting leader I had. If it were just the two of us, I'd still be there. She was someone I really connected with and felt motivated by. But then you had to throw in the personality-challenged scale monitors. Mount Rushmore could give these ladies some tips on smiling. But the biggest drawback for me was the almost complete focus of other attendees on recipes, the use of artificial sweeteners in recipes and points connected with recipes.

I admit that I have always been someone looking more for the emotional piece of the puzzle and that endless conversation about food and recipes and points only started me thinking more about food than I already did. You provide a good service but it just wasn't the one for me.

After many good times together I've decided to finally quit you once and for all. Maybe I'm just not a joiner. I need to structure this weight loss mission on my own, even though my progress is glacial and my frustration level is off the charts at times. I need to figure out the emotional hunger issues before I can ever hope to solve the eating puzzle.

So please stop writing. I'm overweight and I know it and if you really had the key to solving my problem to begin with then I guess I wouldn't be such a target of your repeat business efforts. Keeping track of points makes me think about deprivation and deprivation makes me think of breaking the rules and breaking the rules makes me want to overeat to prove who's really running this show.

I know I probably won't make a lot of friends by writing this letter but it's how I feel. I send everyone on your program my best wishes for a positive outcome. But please - enough "invitations" already. I know where you are if I need you.

Best regards,
A slightly less Chunky Monkey Mama than I used to be

Weigh To Go!

Today's weigh-in was what I had hoped for - erasing last month's gain and a little extra payback for taking away my beloved diary and bread. Down 7.2 pounds!!! I feel it could've been even a bit more if I hadn't made best friends with the Frito Lay people again - but I did consider it my only "safe" snack at first and I'm sure the additional salt is adding that extra toe on the scale. So be it. Also, my exercising routine went out the window for a while as I let the dietary restrictions do all the hard work up to this point. No more. I feel lazy and sluggish without my daily work-out.

I have my fellow bloggers to thank in terms of getting me back on the treadmill. When I read so many posts about everyone's work ethic and resolve, I was inspired to get back in the game too. I received a little extra push as I walked and listened to my ipod yesterday from the "St. Elmo's Fire (Man in Motion)" song. This lyric captured it all for me: "Soldier on, only you can do what must be done."

Inside Out

The cold weather persists and I am clammering to get outside again soon...but not today. So much time indoors always makes me think about things too much. Things I'd rather not think about but idle hands, devil's workshop, yadda yadda yadda - you know the rest.

The most recent object of my wandering attention has focused on the disconnect between the person I feel I am inside versus the one I am projecting to the rest of the world. I like to think of myself as kind, loyal, strong, funny and a little bit shy until I get to know you better. But I don't think that's what I'm projecting - I think I come across as aloof instead of shy, a people-pleaser instead of kind, territorial versus loyal, and pushy instead of strong. I know it shouldn't bother me what other people think but it's more the disconnected feeling that's causing me grief. I often don't feel like an "authentic" person even though my intentions are good. And I certainly don't feel as fat on the inside as I am on the outside.

I'm probably overthinking this but sometimes it really throws me off kilter and undermines my self-confidence. I am trying to get myself in a more positive mindset to lose this weight but then the self-doubt starts creeping in from this negative personal feedback and before I know it, I am giving myself all kinds of permission to fall off the wagon. Vicious cycle completed.

Does anybody else have this sense of disconnect and resulting self-sabotage or is it just me? So many of us think we're all alone with a problem when others are often in the same boat .... so am I rowing by myself or on the deck of the QE2?

Put Your Hands In The Air And Step Away From the Chocolate Cake

Sorry I missed a day or two, friends. Parenting a 13 year old takes a lot out of me sometimes - especially when he hasn't taken his acid reflux medication like he told me he was and the night before last kept us all up with his coughing until 4:30 a.m. Later in the day provided some more unpleasant revelations about school work, attitude, you name it. I predict if he continues down this road, he'll either end up in Congress, in jail or both.

I was in a bad mix yesterday - sleep-deprived and really pissed off. One of those days where there was a high probability that my husband could have been greeted home from work by a variety of 6:00 news vans and the State Police Crime Lab ("She kept mostly to herself but seemed like a nice woman. Fat, though."). I really could've torn through a chocolate cake had one been available. I even thought about baking one - that's how close to the edge I felt. But because I didn't have my old coping buddies around (or couldn't even eat them if they were), I actually had to sit with the emotions and Work. Through. Them. What a concept! It was hard but it's what I've been reading about for years in terms of finding the key to real and sustained weight loss for people who eat emotionally. I've just never put it into practice. Too hard. But now my hand has been forced - mostly because of food allergies - and a big step for me will be to continue dealing with the emotions head on.

This wasn't my first bad day and it won't be my last. My son will get through adolescence and I will get through menopause (hopefully without juvie or electro shock therapy, respectively). It is a hellish shame that we're doing it at the same time. About the only thing we've got in common is that we're comparing moustaches. But at least today I don't have the added trouble (and guilt) of brushing cake crumbs from it.

Don't Get Cocky

I've got an annoying habit that whenever things start going my way a little, I kick back and coast - seemingly under the impression that the goal I'm after will suddenly appear before me and be placed in my outstretched hands. Tsk, tsk - when will I ever learn?

I last posted that my weight had fallen to 207.4 - down 7 pounds since my January weigh-in. This was due to my allergist telling me to stop eating anything with yeast and cow's milk in it. And it's true - the weight was melting off. But I stopped exercising too. And began eating Lay's potato chips again - in bulk (because they're the only safe snack food that I've dared eat). And so while I got an even lower reading on the scale this weekend - 206.4 - today's number spiked to 209.4!

I know, I know - I can't be looking at the scale this often. I can't help myself - I haven't seen numbers like these in years. But the point is that I stopped doing the really important work - exercise - and I think my body's finally saying, "Hey, I'm not going to do this all by myself, ya know. Get yer ass off the couch and move!" So true. That, and calling a nutritionist to figure out some more suitable food options than those of the Frito Lay variety.

Nothing worthwhile ever happened on its own. I'm finding that out with weight loss and starting a new career. Both have given me moments of extreme worry and frustration but I'm hoping to enjoy equal parts of success and pride with both in the not too distant future.