Foo

Well I was on a brief hiatus due to some dsl problems but all is supposed to be fixed now. It better be fixed or I'm flying to India to give that tech support guy a kick in the butt. So. Here we go.

My 28th birthday is almost over. It was a good day and my husband suprised me by actually listening for once. Dinner, flowers, a little shopping spree. What else could a girl ask for right?

I made it thru thanksgiving without gaining an ounce, and too my suprise actually lost a few pounds. Tonight even though we had delicious food and a cake to DIE for I still ate conservatively and was satisfied. Didn't even think twice about it. Maybe I am growing up after all. Eh, probably not.

So besides that we went to Mt. Hood the other day and had all sorts of fun. Let me just say that sledding is a wonderful workout because its tough to haul an ass my size back up the mountain.
We played until there were icycles hanging from our zippers. Everything was great until we headed back down. There was a huge line of cars trying to get back down to town and we just followed the procession as usual. About halfway down a trailor passed us going up when its wheel fell off. Not just the rubber but the entire damn thing. Guess where it ended up? Come on, just one guess. The person who guessed the front of our van wins a peice of cake! A wheel going 55 mph can cause more damage than one would think. Luckily it didn't come thru our windshield so I consider us extremely lucky people.

I'll post more tomorrow, I'm still have some celebrating to do...

Look what I found

Yesterday I felt sexy. It was the first time in a long time. I'm 55lbs lighter now. I've taken 2 inches off my neck, 7 off my bust, 8 off my waist, 7 off my hips and 4.5 off my thighs. There are 24.5 inches less of me! But back to my point. I have a waist. It may be kind of orbish but its still making its way out damnit. Last night for the first time in years I stood in front of the mirror buck ass naked. I figured it was about time to take some serious inventory and decide where to go from here. I still need a LOT of work, but the funny thing was that I also could see my crotch without any assistance. For someone who carried around a lot of lard for a lot of years its a big thing. Yes, my vagina is still there. My stomach no longer holds my boobs up and gasp, my thighs don't look like they are made out of marshmallows. My husband met me when I was at my fattest really so he has never known anything but the poohbah version of me. Last night he said that my new shape was very sexy. I shouldn't need that comment to make me feel good but it made me feel fabulous.

Have I ever mentioned that I have had amazing luck with boyfriends? I'm not talking about wether they were assholes or not, I'm going superficial and talking about looks. Every single boyfriend I've had has been very attractive. Attractive enough to make people I don't know ask me how I ended up with HIM. Those questions were always a good way to put down a person twice by implying not only was I fat but I was ugly. I have to admit that I wondered about it for a while myself and then gave up thinking that there were other mysteries in life that needed my attention. Two years ago my husband came and took part of a little program we had going at my school ( yes SUPRISE I'm educated) and part of it was having to remove his shirt. After jaws picked up off the floor my "friend" leaned over in my ear and whispered ..."How the hell did YOU get him?" Well thanks for bringing that up again friend. After the urge to punch her in the nose fled I just shrugged and chalked up it to chance. Well now I feel like calling her and telling her it wasn't chance. It was so many things. I have talked to exes and they always said that I made them feel uber manly. No it wasn't some wild testicle dance I did, or weird position. I just accepted them the way they were and really enjoyed them...until they became asses and had to be disposed of. My "friend" is divorced but I can't imagine why...was it because she talked down to her husband like a dog? Was it the fact that she REFUSED to do any sort of housework? Was it the fact that she didn't know how to turn the stove on? She was working on setting boundries the last time I seen her because she thought that doing laundry was out of her scope of wifehood. I guess she doesn't have to worry about that now.

I'm not by any means saying be a doormat, but just like we encourage our husbands to be nice and bring us candy or flowers, be romantic or spontaneous we need to make him feel like he has balls. Big ones.

My son looks like I punched his teeth out. Both top front teeth are gone leaving him with this gummy smile I haven't seen since he was a baby. As cute as it is I also find myself teaching him slobber control because now there is really nothing there to hold it back. Fighting the urge to make him wear a bib so he doesn't stain the furniture is really hard sometimes. So for now we are avoiding corn on the cob and words that contain more than one s. We were looking thru papers and magazines looking for pictures to cut out for his letter of the week search. I left the room to check on dinner and came back to him with a page open to the bras just staring. I asked him if he liked the boobs or the bra and he just turned the page and giggled. Oh god, its starting already. We tell our son whatever he needs to know at the moment. He knows what a vagina and penis are and where babies come from he just hasn't tied it all together yet. This way I figure having the sex talk will be much easier and there will not be any suprises along the way. The talk about uh "self pleasure" will be left to Mr. Fatty. I told him that he has to insist its normal, but anytime you are "self pleasuring" you must lock the door cause your mother will shit herself and die. That is the most important thing my husband can ever teach him.

I've been working out a lot lately and I finally have gotten the courage to use the stairmaster. You see as large as everything else was on my body my butt was rather flat. Like crepe flat. So now that other things are shrinking I have started a quest for a butt. Squats are dandy but I just feel like a dork doing them. Let me tell you how much I love the stairmaster. I would rather poke my own eyes out, dunk them into acid, and reinsert them than use that evil damn thing. But I kept at it anyway. Now I have pain in my butt region, lets just hope its followed by some muscle. I'm not picky, I'll take a little marshmallow sized muscle. Then theres the cardio and blah blah blah, sweaty uniboob, blah blah blah, thighs going to start a fire, blah blah blah.

I'm considering taking up a sport. Did I mention I have the coordination of an intoxicated 12 month old? Maybe I'll start doing aerobics with the old ladies down at the rec center. But what I really want to do is hike. Its nice so I might bust out this weekend and try to take on a few trails. If I'm not back by monday I was either eaten by a bear or am lost.

Goober

This weekend was great. We spent a lot of time doing things that were a total waste of our time and it was great. One of our activities was trying to find me a winter coat. Now I know this sounds really really easy but I'm difficult so it wasn't easy. I have been fat for a long time so I am used to the plus sized crap they try to sell to women under the guidelines of it being "trendy". When I go into stores now I naturally head that direction. I don't know why because well I'm on the other side now. The side with the jeans that don't give me baggy butt, the side with the pretty sweaters in more colors than I can imagine, and the side with the bras that have less than 5 hooks on the back. So before we left today my husband gave me a pep talk and said just try on what you KNOW will fit. Okay, will do. I wondered up to the jackets and they had them in all sorts of colors and types. I'm fond of the columbia ones but have always had trouble finding one to fit me. So I just stood there and stared and told my husband that one day I would be able to wear one. Cut to him turning red and yanking it down and making me try it on. It fit! And it wasn't some hideous color either. Oh, it had pockets and everything! It was also an xl. After I was done shitting myself I tried on a large. Hmmmmmm fit great. I found the coat of my dreams but decided to wait until next week to buy it incase I suddenly wake up morbidly obese again.

My birthday is coming up. In 17 days to be exact. This year I'm getting money and I'm fine with that. Some women would be offended but to me buying myself some shoes and getting a pedicure works just fine. Now we are hammering out dinner details and I am trying to decide if I want to go all grade A fancy or just go somewhere a little more laid back. I'm more laid back but my husband wants to go to this fondue place. I heard its like 120$ per person.....I have a hard time spending that much on food that I will be flushing away the next day. It would give me a chance to play dress up though. Hmmmmmmmm whats a girl to do.

I have to admit that I am not a fan of bmi charts but its kind of interesting to see my journey thru one. I went from morbidly obese, to obese, and now am finally in the just overweight section. I have under 30lbs until I'm in the normal range. Yes, normal. Hahahahahahahaha. It is amusing isn't it? The one thing I have learned from a lot of dieters is that the last 25lbs is the hardest. So as insurance I have upped my workouts and vowed away from dark chocolate (for a while anyway). But besides that I'm still eating as usual. In all the mania of low carb and low gi and low fat I have found that the key to my success is not eating an ass load of anything. I keep seeing the statistic that 95% of diets fail. I would like to know who the hell came up with that. Yes we are getting fatter, but a lot of fat people are making great progress in weight loss too. Why aren't their commercials promoting moderation and getting off the couch? I think if they showed more success more people would get motivated to change.

I have discovered the greatest books ever written. Captain Underpants. Good stuff. Its about two boys who have well, lets just say a lot of curiosity and usually end up in trouble. They hipnotized their principal into an underpants wearing super hero. The books usually have talking toilets or alien lunch ladies mixed in to. Why so great you ask? Because my son loves them and so does every kid who runs into them. It makes him want to read and thats great. Not really educational material but we all enjoy running around in our underpants sometimes.

Laziness defined

Taking a shower was my major accomplishment of the day. Go ahead, call me lazy. It still won't motivate me to do anything. I spent all day playing video games, reading books, and having all sorts of swashbuckeling fun with my son. It was glorius. Usually Friday is errands day and we run all over town trying to fit too much stuff into 8 hours. Today I said to hell with it. Everything else can wait. We made brownies and didn't even change out of our pajamas. I think everyone needs a day like today. Just incase anyone is wondering I kicked ass at Mario Party. Oh yeahhhhhhhhh.

I wonder what moments my son will remember when he gets older. Will he remember our vacations? The days I slept in late and freaked out? Having to clean his room? The days I am totally pmsing? Playing sorry until my fingers fall off? Playing ninja attack on daddy? What will fade and what will stay. Personally I don't really remember my childhood. Up until I was about 8-9 theres very little I can remember. No christmas or birthday memories here. In fact I'm not sure if I even had any but I really don't want to open that crap ball tonight.

Are the things we do for our kids completely in vain or does it actually make a difference. For the first few years of his life my husband and I spent a lot of energy trying to make our own traditions and lay down some foundations for my son. Now we know what he loves. Not fancy trips to hawaii or disneyland. My son likes to play in the sand on the beach and play in the snow in the winter. Fortunately we are about an hour away from both. Camping is great too because thats the only time I let them run around with sticks and get all muddy. I think all of this came into my mind because I seen a program about kids of meth users the other day. Some of them sleeping in rooms full of dog shit, not being fed, just in general being ignored. How tragic it must be to have the one person that should make you feel safe and comfortable treat you like garbage. Then it got this entire spiral going in my head. I am the first to admit that I have not been a perfect parent. But was I good enough? Do you just wait until your kids get older and see if they become a serial killer or something to find out?

I am thinking about making goodie baskets for christmas this year instead of handing out gifts. I get a better response out of stuff people can eat anyway. I'm a bit lost about what to make though. Maybe some cheesecake bites and raspberry dark chocolate truffles? Hot chocolate mix and shortbread cookies? What would you want in your basket?

Oh to be 13 again...

Thirteen Things about Mrs. Fatty 1. I'm scared to death of dogs and cliffs 2. This week I have consumed more chocolate than I ever thought was humanly possible followed by large amounts of wine and tylenol 3. My sons school was invaded by singing pirates today and I was a little upset the parents weren't invited! 4. Next Friday my husband starts a 10 day mini vacation from work and I have already started a to do list that in time will be long enough to wall paper the bathroom with. 5. My to do list is longer thou 6. I yelled at someone at Chuck E. Cheese once and even though they were being a total asshat I still feel bad. 7. I love it when my husband brags about my cooking but that didn't happen much this week since I essentially went on strike for a few days 8. I don't wear make up or hair products 9. But I still manage to keep my appearance un-bigfoot like 10. 13 is my lucky number! 11. I still haven't taken all my halloween decorations down 12. I've considered taking on a lesbian lover just so I would have a place to do my laundry. 13. I am a fortunate wife because even though phrases like "you stink", "the toilet seat GOES DOWN", and "You forgot again?!?!" come flying out of my mouth way too much I can say I love my husband and he loves me and my bad hair, sailor mouth, wanting to put shag carpet in our van big white butt. Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)

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Balls in waiting

My period is late. Not because I am pregnant but because my ovulation date was later due to stress. My husband, thinking he has all the time in the world decideds to have lunch with me instead of sex before he left for work. I told him not a wise idea. And now spot has arrived and so mrs. bitchy bloody should be ringing my doorbell anytime. So now I sit here midly amused about the case of blue balls my husband is going to have for the next few days. Since we are trying to spawn he tries to keep his uh "self sex" to a once a week occurance. I've noticed there is a real trend in women witholding sex when they are trying to concieve. Am I the first to say that unless there is a sperm issue thats just dumb. I wonder if they just don't feel the love anymore. We don't withold because his swimmers are fine. More than fine actually. On average it is every other day but when my egg is looming we shoot for twice a day. My husbands explination for why we keep missing? My egg is hard headed. I didn't think it was all that funny either. I did get a laugh out of telling him his sperm were probably wearing helmets and bibs though.

I'm not sure if I ever shared my husbands sperm sample experience. So I'll just share again. After a few years of trying on our own I sought some help from my ob/gyn. He is a great guy. Dr. M ordered a sperm analysis to make sure that was functioning right first. Why? Cause its cheap and easy. So my husband and I pick up the directions and a cup and head home. The papers said to wait three days after the last ejaculation to give a sample. Well since I had just finished bleeding he had been on hold and asked if he could give the sample then. Only problem? It was close to closing and the bathrooms were being cleaned. He decided to wait until the next day but uh well we didn't make it. Fast forward to next week. We have managed to abstain long enough to get to the mandatory three days. After he provides his "sample" into what I consider a WAY too big cup ( I could have crapped in it and had room left over) he is supposed to have it in the lab 30 minutes later. Well we live 20 from the clinic but factoring in traffic he decided to play it safe and just use the clinic bathroom. I thought I was going to be a grown up about this but for some reason the thought of my husband masturbating in the bathroom was just way too funny. I sat there giggling and trying not to blush. My husband comes out looking like he has really accomplished something great and plops the cup up on the counter. The guy who worked behind the counter turned bright red and pointed to the bag he was supposed to place the cup in and the "private" bin he should have placed it in. The funny part? My husband got a little bit on the outside of the cup. The lab tech really should have been wearing gloves.

Three days later my doctor calls giggling. I assume he has heard things from the lab tech but apparently my husband not only has a VERY high sperm count but an amazing amount of good ones. No double tails, no heads on backwards, no ass faces. My husband as you can imagine is releaved. I was too but in a way it sucked because it ment it was my fault. I don't hate having pcos or being infertile. I have a problem with patience but besides that it has actaully been a great thing for me. Why? Well I take better care of myself. I got off my fat asses and made some changes. Also it opened up a lot of conversations between my husband and I about what we really wanted. Those moments can get rare after you've seen this person scratch their balls for years.

Ass pain

Yesterday we took our first trip up to the mountain this year. The lifts weren't open but we played in the snow park like there was no tomorrow anyway. In some areas the snow went up to my so called waist. When we realised we forgot our sled my son and I took hubby's snowboard and made do. We played for hours. Oh, it was grand. The cold nose and cheeks, ice forming on my hair, the wind whipping my face. And the ass pain, OH the ass PAiN. Climbing up a snow covered hill of death will make you feel pain that is suprising and well, painful. We did have a great time and now I am looking forward to Christmas and the shortly to follow frostbite.

Today I want to be somewhere else. Not anywhere in paticular, just not here. I've eaten all my cookies and I'm still waiting for my stupid period. Spot, spot, spot. I hate it. Is there anyway I could just bleed like a normal woman and get it the fuck over with??????????????? Do I need to push pins into some stupid doll? Dance around a firepit in my yard naked? Take pubic hair samples of me and my husband and send them out to see? WHAT DOES IT TAKE. Sorry about the frustration but this is getting rediculous. My temps are falling so according to good old fashioned charting knowledge I should start tomorrow. I am not counting on it though. I don't like to whine and bitch but you'll have to bear with me today because waiting years for something eats ass.

Every day I take metformin, calcium, b12, and prenatals. I've been taking prenatals for 5 years so that when I got pregnant I wouldn't have a two headed baby or something. I have taken fertility drugs and wished on so many things its crazy. I thought our discussion about adoption helped but apparently it was just my hormones playing games with me. Or maybe it was all the cute babies at the store today. I long to be drooled and spit up on. You know its bad when you look forward to changing crappy diapers again. I am a sick woman.

The very first blog I read was a little pregnant. I'm sure most of you have read it, but the day I found it I spent HOURS glued to my screen until I had read almost all of it. I wonder how many blogs in this great blogsphere have been inspired by her journey. Even though its just words on a page it makes me feel better.

Boy I am just rambling today. Probably because I don't really have anything to say.

Skin

Well as I am teetering close to being 60lbs lighter than I was months ago I am discovering many joys. Going to the park and playing, walking around without being winded, being able to fit my ass thru small spaces, and being able to actually feel desirable. There are a few drawbacks. I know, I'm at a lesser chance for diabetes and dropping dead of a heart attack. I know this. But for your consideration on some drawbacks I present you with todays lunch subject.

The scene: Pho Vietnam-lunch time

My husband, son, and I stopped in for some lunchtime pho. Which is really delicious there, I mean pour out the bowl to get the last drop delicious. We were face down in our noodle bowl just chowing away when I dropped a meatball. Now usually these renegade meatballs find a lovely spot on my chest to sit on but today, well it fell straight into my lap. Alarmed I asked my hubby if he had noticed my tits were deflating. "mhm, I had." slurp slurp. Getting a little frantic I then asked when it started. He said about 15 pounds ago. My entire life I have had a lovely rack. Now well, now they are starting to look normal sized. Like everyone elses. After consulting my bra collection at home had to throw out all but two. I see the brightside to this. I may one day be able to run without having to throw them over my back first.

Now on the the second drawback. When you lose a large amount you tend to have a little bit of excess skin. I have about 20 more lbs to go so I imagine there will be more flapping in the wind before I'm done. I've heard that it will draw up some over time, and I have indeed felt it firming lately, but how much? I don't know if I will ever be able to have a tighter tummy and it is a little well frustrating. I don't have that problem anywhere else either so maybe it is just a temporary worry. I'm sure it has uses such as slapping rude waiters, being able to slide around on it during an ice storm, or perhaps using it to shelter people under the rain. I don't know if most people live with this or get tummy tucks, but considering that anytime my doctor comes close to me with anything sharp I almost crap myself I'm saying I'll just live with it. Roll it up and tuck it somewhere I guess.

BUT today I went shopping for winter coats before I lost a nipple from the cold winds, and to my suprise I either wear a medium (in most) or large. I have never been a medium or large. As a matter a fact I am 7 lbs away from the weight I was in 6th grade.

Off of fat.

Today I am waiting for my uh monthly process to start. So that means its cookie baking time!
I prefer chocolate chip when its time for my bloody so thats how my husband knows that doom is on its way. So today after two hours in the kitchen I have about 48 cookies to show for my effort. Not to sound vain, but I've been told I make the best cookies ever. People seem to go nuts for the raspberry dark chocolate crinkles, and the cinamon cheesecake rounds. I considered very breifly going into business at one point but decided I really don't like people well enough to go into a retail business. I know a bakery is food, but whenever you own your own business you are essentially in retail. It says right on the bottom of my resume that I don't play well with others so I think thats a bad idea. I do however make money in the summer by making kabobs and treats and selling them at my husbands soccer games. Theres usually mobs of people and kids so its a good revenue for a few sweet months.

Why am I so happy today you might ask? Well, my mother is gone. She left this morning. Yes, oh yes, woohooo. She decided to go back to her apartment two towns away. I consider this her greatest gift to me ever. We tried to be civil but it just doesn't work out well. She is morbidly obese and still can't figure out why we couldn't go out to a buffet. First of all, ew. Second of all she probably would have died halfway thru. She does not understand how my son can be six and not know what a twinkie is. But I don't get mad. She simply doesn't know any better. She is afterall, the woman who put pepsi in my bottles instead of milk.

I decided to start charting my cycles so we can pin down the exact day of ovulation. This involves waking at the same time each day and taking your temperature to keep track of on a chart. Bbt is fun. But unlike some people I have decided to go oral with my temp taking. I think that at 6 am it would be way to easy to put it in the wrong hole trying to stick a themometer in my whoo haa. That is not something I want to happen. Ever. I have a feeling it will pay off before summer. I don't know why but I'm just not worried that much anymore. Maybe it was our discussion about adoption the other day. Who knows.

I still, for those who are wondering, do NOT have a dryer. Oh yes, every week I have been washing at home and then lugging the wet clothes to the laundromat of snot covered kids to dry. We have enough saved for one, but my hubby feels the need to disect our old one first. So tomorrow I will make him go to the laundromat and deal with it. Maybe we'll go to home depot before the day is over.

I'm off to eat my cookies. Happy saturday everyone

Hangover

I have finally come out of my chocolate induced stupor. Everyone remain calm there is still a few left in the bucket.

My mother is staying with us for a bit. There are 18 days and 12 hours to go. Not that I am keeping track mind you. For us it is an interesting relationship. The only things she ever taught me was how to lie and steal. Oh, and how to roll a cigarette. I think those are qualities every 13 year old should know. I have put aside the long list of wrongs she has done and decided to be an adult. We won't talk about how she stole my most prized posession and pawned it, or how she stole my wallet for $20, how she left me in a room after I took a medicine I really shouldn't have due to a mix up throwing up and blacking out refusing to call an ambulance when I asked her, or how up until a few years ago her favorite name for me was whore. I can let go of all of that. But DO NOT WEAR SHOES IN MY HOUSE. I can take the laziness and the lying and the mooching but really, quit tracking mud in my house before I lock you out.

I'll post tomorrow when I'm not so tired.