Fat by choice

Okie dokie peeps. Here is the deal. I've seen a few things floating around Facebook about obesity.

Guess what, they are always posted by skinny people (not all you skinny people are crazy, some of you are super cool... you know, like my husband Greg. Good guy right there.)

So the first one that got me going was posted by a gal, it was a picture of fruits and veggies and had some caaaatchy slogan about how if you don't want to be fat, eat better food.

Ummmm.... palm to forehead genius. Where did you read that at? In some book? Have you spent a lot of time obsessing about your weight? Guess what, I've heard that same thing. Probably in that same class.

The next wild thing she will probably post will be a little chart showing how your calories in have to equal or be less than calories out to lose weight. I'm so grateful for her guidance.

The second was an article some dude posted about how obese people should be kicked off of health care plans because we are a drain on the system. I only have one reply to that, we are really going to let the government have control over one more thing? What happens when your wife now in her 20's has a hysterectomy in her 50's and gains 50 pounds she cant get rid of? Then what? Or when your Mountain Dew/ Energy Drink habit catches up with you and you suddenly can't figure out what ruined your heart or kidneys. My point is... for the love of all that is good in this World, please don't give the government control over anything else. Especially something that isn't always as easy to control as you think it is. You with your catchy fruit and veggie slogan. (You being the people who are talking about obesity, but have never struggled with it.)

This is the part where I share some stats about my own journey with you. Don't worry, I'll save the nekky pictures for when I'm ready for a little bit bigger shock factor. For now, I'll keep those tucked away.

I'm going to start in the middle of my story. Seems like a good starting point for a journey that I've lived through and doesn't always make sense to me.

I honestly don't remember what I weighed in High School. Somewhere above the 200 pound mark. I specifically remember weighing 235 pounds all through college.

There are three types of people reading this.... The first are thinking HOLY SHIT, 2 hundred 35 pounds. Isn't that the same as a mini horse?

The second are thinking "I'd like to weigh 235 pounds. See weight is all about where you are in your journey.

The Third (*cough* Greg) are like "- ok. 235 pounds." This third group have no idea what they weigh. Or what other people should or do weigh. (Greg have I told you what a good dude you are lately?)

In the middle of my first year of teaching I realized I was gaining weight... So I started doing better. By the end of that school year I weighed 277 pounds (again, with the holy shit? You need to get more creative.)

 I had already started running/walking had cut out fast food and soda and still seemed to lose 5 pounds and then gain 2. It was a a battle.

This wasn't my first diet. I skipped about 10 years worth of dieting, depression, and an abusive relationship, stress, college... all that jazz. Mostly because who the hell wants to read all that BS? Second, the skinny girl/guy posting those things on Facebook won't care anyway. All they will see is a girl who ate more than her body needed and gained weight.

Guess what, I did. I know.

So in 2011 I underwent weight loss surgery and had a lap band placed. Don't worry this wasn't a drain on your personal wallet. Most insurances don't cover weight loss surgery and I paid out of pocket 10k for the surgery. Mostly because I don't give two shits about the person setting on the sidelines judging me for being fat. I care about me and my quality of life. I believe food addiction is a disease and it is ignored.

I lost 110 pounds (Holy shit, right?) I felt great.

I maintained between 167-177 for 3 years. Got married (hey Greg) and then soon after Pregnant.

Shooting back up to 246 pounds on the day I delivered my cute little PJM.

I remember blindly watching that number skyrocket. I remember tracking my calories and staying in my range and still gaining weight. By the time that baby got here my depression had stolen all the joy from pregnancy. I was not the girl my husband had married and I was not a person I liked very much. All because of weight. I let weight still my joy of being able to carry a baby? If that isn't a sickness, I don't know what is.

This morning I weighed in at 189 (holy shit... hahahah I make myself laugh.)

Here is the point where I tell you people sitting on the sidelines judging me for being obese to shut your mouth and go talk about Bruce Jenner and that silly lion.... or maybe Planed Parenthood (Now there are some skeesballs and we are so lucky we are funding that as a government. Heaven forbid I have extra fat...ok, ok I digress)

Anyway have you done any of the following?

1. Given everyone a piece of the birthday cake and then after they go to bed dumped the leftovers in the gargbage because you can't be trusted with them?
2. Have you skipped out on events because you don't want to be tempted by the goodies that will be there?
3. Have you happily drank your protein shake and pretended it really did taste like vanilla instead of chalk?
4. Have you gone to bed hungry more often than not because your calorie intake was maxed out for the day?
5. Have you forgone extra fun things so you could pay for your crossfit membership/a road bike/running shoes/ race entry?
6. Have you ran until you threw up?
7. Have you biked until you wanted to throw up?
8. Have you packed around the weight of an entire extra person?

If you haven't, you don't know the weight I've carried. You don't know my struggle. You don't know my story.

There are better ways to encourage than your snide posts on Facebook, if it is your aim to encourage. Call me crazy, but I think the main goal is to shame, prove supperiority and just in general be an ass bout something I'm struggling with and you in general don't have to think about that often.

Being a Real Mom and a Bonus Mom

I didn’t even know that term “Bonus Mom” existed until months after I had become one. I was searching for the right title, something, anything that didn't have step in front of it.   

You see, from the beginning I just didn’t believe that “Step-mom” was a term that applied to me. It implies a distance, space between the kids and me. I’ve always thought that if I really love Greg  (which I do)How could I only “kind of” love them? How could I love them with space between us?

The day I became a Mom, is day I married their Dad. It wasn’t just Greg and I. It was all four of us. From the moment I fell in love with him, I loved his babies.  

But I couldn’t call myself “the mom.” They have a mom, a great one. I don’t want to take her place; I’m not even tempted to try. I respect her too much.

Those first few months were the hardest. Where did I fit in? Why had God decided to make me a part of this plan? Even for a moment I wondered why I couldn’t have it easier.  Why did these amazing kids feel like a heavy blessing at times? It was the strangest feeling, to carry a heavy blessing.  How is a girl like me supposed to know how to be a mom, the extra mom; the Bonus Mom. I didn’t know. I cried a lot those first few months. It all seemed so overwhelming, so impossible. How was all of this supposed to work?  Poor Greg, I’m sure it seemed that I needed constant reassurance. How was I supposed to know what was best for someone else’s children? Someone who was doing such a good job?  What was my role supposed to be?

As the time passed, the heaviness of the blessing began to lighten. These sweet babies were becoming mine in a way; our own special way. No longer was I wondering how we fit in with each other, we just found our groove. I found my spot in their lives. My own special spot that includes loving them in my own way, having our own special experiences; horses, cows, four wheelers, I couldn’t be like their Mom.  We aren’t the same person. I can’t fill that void for them, and I don’t need to. What I could do is add more love. More adventures. We are raising children as a team of four, children that have many opportunities.

Then PJ was his own special spirit, my first born but not my first child. I cried over the thought of never having one child, never having an opportunity to discover what just one felt like. Then I cried because it was such a blessing to have more than one.

My biggest fear was that I would feel differently about J and E than I did about PJ. How was I going to treat them the same, but love them differently? How would I keep them from knowing? I just didn’t know. I cried and prayed and cried some more, for months. When PJ was just a few weeks old, I realized something. I didn’t feel any differently about him than I did about my other children.

No different. I love them. All three of them. Love them, worry about them, miss them.  They are my children.

The only thing that has changed since having PJ is that I now KNOW what I am missing while J and E are not with us. I don’t know how or if I will ever be able to forgive myself for all the things I am missing out on. All the things I just won’t be there for because of the distance, because of the circumstances.

Being the Bonus Mom is hard work. I won’t ever know, so I’m only speculating, but I bet the only job that is harder is being The Mom and sharing with a Bonus Mom.

Our Start

This is a blog post for Justin and Evelyn.

My babies.

I love your Mom.

I love your Papa.

Most of all, I love you. Both of you.

Your Papa, now he is a good feller. I waited a really long time for him. There were times I never thought he would make an apperance.

I didn't understand why I had to wait so long to find my Prince Charming.

Now I know.

He was married to your Mommy.

Bringing joy to my life before he ever knew me.

It was for you, both of you. That is why I had to wait.

You were both worth it.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

These are pictures of the first day we met. You won't remember it. I'll never forget.

Not quite newborn pictures, are they?

It might not be where everyone starts, but it is a perfect start.

It is our start.

Exactly how it was supposed to start.

The bearded man moved in Dr.Pepper

So a long time ago I wrote about how I would never drink Pepsi again. I swore the last one would be with my "Last Supper." You can read about it here

You know what? I have stuck to that. I never went back to that Pepsi. It was a clean break.

The real problem happened when I married my handsome husband.

 

 

**He started the beard for no shave November and just never quit.**

Well when that handsome guy moved in, he brought Dr. Pepper with him. It is constantly in the fridge. I never told him I wasn't strong enough for it to be there. I never asked him to keep it in his cooler, or not to keep the fridge stocked. I thought I was strong enough.... I wasn't

So today, again, I will say goodbye to that icy friend(enemy?) and move forward with the weight loss journey that is never ending.



This weeks new sweater... I can't get the picture to rotate.

 

ANNNNNNNNND!!!!! My dream house. I am seriously in love with this house. **sigh** one day.

Roller Derby-ing.

 So here is what I have figured out.

I could <3 roller derby, a lot. They wear crazy outfits and skate fiercly and workout, more than just skating. And I could tell from our 1 hour little get together that it is a community. These girls/women are exercising and having fun.

With that being said, I will not be joining the bad ass ladies of roller derby. Which really is a shame because the possibility of creating my own Derby Doll name and having my first expiereince with a sport that requires a mouth piece would have been epic; the stories alone are almost worth it.

Here is the main reason I will not be a Derby Doll. They practice 3 nights a week. Every week. For the entire year. Then they travel for competition and all of that. The amount of time this community needs to really give it my all is more than I can commit right now.

So at the end of the “fresh meat” recruitment session last night they asked me specifically if I would be joining. I replied with “I don’t think so.” They wanted to know why, so I told them. 1. I’m training for a Ragnar and 2. I have a new baby. They Chief replied with “we all have children, that isn’t an excuse.” First, it wasn’t an excuse. I was just being honest with how I wanted to spend my time and what I could commit to. Second, put the claws away.

Round is a shape...

It is easier to get in shape when you have already done it, or already are.

I really believe that.

When I first started working out I had no idea what I was doing. I had never been to a class, didn't have the shoes, didn't have a thing I needed.

Mostly I didn't have the tools, or the friends.

This time around, it is easier.

I've only truly been back at the grind for about 1 week and already I've been invited to train for a Ragnar. You can read about my first experience here. I ran into my Crossfit coach and she invited me to come back to a class.... You can read about my first experience with that here. I was terrified.

See, all these things that were so HARD so INTIMIDATING before have already been done. These are familiar waters.

Ladies, it is a good day to be alive.

Tonight is Roller Derby night. Living a life no longer intimidating.

 

I'm gonna need a tat!

Today I am winning the fight.

How good it feels to be trying to get healthy.

I mean seriously, why do I forget?

I went home on Wedensday and got on the treadmill (I wish I had a picture of my running clothes. EEK, not good.)

I always have this thought that I have to start at the beginning. Like I am always going back to 277 pounds. It wasn't, I could run for a couple minutes and then walk. It felt so good.

I've been, what I consider, on point with my food and I'm using my lapband as a tool again. I'm not sure I would know what to do without it.

I've forgot what confidence comes with taking charge of my health. I'm so glad to be working on myself.

It isn't about being where I was, it is about feeling the way I felt. Does that make sense? I'm focusing more on the feelings and enjoying the moments instead of what the scale reads. I have faith that the scale will follow.

I was starting to turn down things, refuse to do things that I like because of how big I was becoming again. Today I am winning the fight.

My new piercing (still swollen.) I think it is so cute!

My new glasses and my post run face!

Christmas present and proof that I got moving!