Things to ponder....an email I recieved

Only in   America .......do drugstores make the sick walk all the way to the back of the store to get their prescriptions while healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front.   Only in America .....do people order double cheeseburgers, large fries, and a diet coke. Only in America .....do banks leave vault doors open and then chain the pens to the counters. Only in America .....do we leave cars worth thousands of dollars in the driveway and put our useless junk in the garage. Only in America .....do they have drive-up ATM machines with Braille lettering. EVER WONDER ..... Why the sun lightens our hair, but darkens our skin?  Why can't women put on mascara with their mouth closed? Why don't you ever see the headline 'Psychic Wins Lottery'? Why is 'abbreviated' such a long word? Why is it that doctors call what they do 'practice'? Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavor, and dishwashing liquid made with real lemons? Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker? Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called rush hour? Why isn't there mouse-flavored cat food? Why didn't Noah swat those two mosquitoes? Why do they sterilize the needle for lethal injections? You know that indestructible black box that is used on airplanes? Why don't they make the whole plane out of that stuff?! Why don't sheep shrink when it rains? Why are they called apartments when they are all stuck together? if con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of progress? If flying is so safe, why do they call the airport the terminal?

"mommy...what lady has broken car?"

I was on the phone with my mom.  Pickle was listening with big ears.
My Mom was telling me about her car breaking down.  I hung up the phone.

Pickle said "mama, what lady has broken car?"

I told her "big mama's car broke."

A few minutes pass...

"Daddy fix big mama's car!"

I tell her "daddy can't fix it, she lives far away."

"MOMMY, doda (my uncle) fix it."

"okay Pickle"

TWO WEEKS PASS...we are driving through an old mountain town.  A train comes.  We wait at the tracks.  The train leaves and we see that on the other side of the tracks a car of teenage girls are standing next to their car.  Car broken down!  I yell out the window, "you guys okay?"  The girls says "uh, not really."

Big D jumps out of the car to help the girls move their car.

Pickle yells "DADDY NO!  DADDY NO!  YOU FIX BIG MAMA'S CAR FIRST."

Your assignment.....

Here's the assignment.  Write down what you love about yourself.  On Oprah the other day.  Oprah said that women are brought up to not admit great things about themselves.  For some reason it's hard for women to say positive comments about themselves without feeling conceded.  Oprah also said that the more positive you feel about yourself the more you have to give to others.  She said it's good for people to see your confidence.  Confidence fills others up.

When I was pregnant with Pickle I felt like I was on top of the world.  I never felt more beautiful.  Then I don't know what happened.  Becoming a mom has made me feel so frumpy, unstylish and ugly.  I know that sounds so stupid, but thats how I have felt for the last 3 years.  I used to be confident and now, I avoid mirrors.  But I'm working on changing that.

So here goes...the things I love about me:

I'm...

honest

trustworthy

passionate

accepting...100%!

forgiving

understanding

funny

positive about life 

athletic

strong

and

I think my eyes show my old soul

I also like my smile

This is the last picture I remembered liking of myself...September 2007

Finally, a new picture to like of myself...July 2010

Groupon...

Ya know it?  It's great!  Endorsed by Fox, CNN, ABC, NBC.  Each day they email you the daily deal.  It can be anything from a 20 haircut/color to a local Crepe deal.  You buy it, they email you your voucher and you just saved normally at least 75%.  It shows you new places and things.  Check it out!

"Mommy...where is God?"

"Well Pickle, God is everywhere!"

"Mama, under my butt?"  "God under my butt?"

If your gonna....

play a sport, do it with some style!  Yes, those are moon boots.

Nas-ticks...

I'm off to take Pickle to gymnastics.  She's a little brick house!  She loves it!

Moderation?

Huh?  What is moderation?  Moderation didn't get me fat!  Let me rephrase, moderation didn't add extra weight to my beautiful round body (me treating myself with kind words).  I'm an all or nothing kinda gal.  I don't know what the word moderation means.  I envy the girls that just have one bite of chocolate cake and don't feel the impulse to eat the entire cake (my sister).  As stated in the wonderful book Women Food and God.  I basically don't trust myself.  That's kinda sad.  Let me say it again...I DON'T TRUST MYSELF.  What does that mean?  I don't trust myself with a pan of brownies, I don't trust myself with a batch of chocolate chip cookies, I don't trust myself with any form of sweetness in my house.  I'm not strong enough to say NO.  I have the strength to recover from an emergency c-section (2 of them), sliced open like a pig, organs pulled out laid on a little silver cart, husband there to see all of your business...ALL OF YOUR BUSINESS, the pulling sensation (not sure what they were pulling but I had to be strapped down on a tiny little table) pulling like they were pulling intestines, mental strength to not be able to hold the little baby that I had been waiting to hold for 42 weeks, the sound of them counting instruments to make sure they don't leave a pair of pliers in your gut, god only knows I don't need anything else left in my gut, rolled into recovery where it was cold...sterile...lonely, then the recovery of loosing my entire core strength, everything abdominally lost, left with what looks like a fanny pack of skin.  I have the strength to bring two innocent little human beings into this world to raise.  I have the strength to be hospice for my father.  I have the strength to watch my father do drugs for my entire life.  I have the strength to survive a divorce.  I have the strength to survive after my high school boyfriend was killed.  I have the strength to admit when I have made a mistake.  I have the strength to admit that I have a jacked up relationship with food.  BUT I don't have the strength to say NO to the food in front of me.

Where is this coming from?  Well, I have been doing great.  I have lost 17 pounds and I have worked hard for that 17 pounds.  I'm 7 pounds away from being where I was when I got pregnant with Pickle.  And that was after loosing weight to get pregnant.  I would say that I will be happy after I loose 7 more pounds but I'm never happy with my body.    That's another sad statement.

The moral of my story:

I have been spinning out of control (OOC) for the last week.  The concert started my escapade.  When I feel like crap, I eat like crap.  I let loose the day of the concert and it has spun me OOC.  And because I don't know what moderation means I didn't get my bearings back (is that the right term?) the next day.  I let one day...lead to 2 days...now to an entire week.  When I got on the scale this am I was 3...yes I said THREE pounds heavier.  I have been eating my way through the house.  

This is what I'm left with.....

What was it about the concert/girl day that made me loose control?  Was it the fact that I went with 3 skinny girls (that work hard to be skinny) and I get tired of being the one with the weight problem?  Was it that there is something missing in my life and the girl's day reminded me of that?  Did I see my "old self" and miss her?  

As I write...I ask myself what was I trying to "fill" the last week?  I must have felt empty because I was trying to fill my trap like it was the last supper.  I couldn't say no.  Didn't have the strength to say no.  Now this morning the scale is saying "STOP."  It would be different if I said the sun made me extra hungry all week long.  But that isn't the case.  I was OOC!  

As in the book Women, Food and God this week I'm going to dedicate this week to eating when I'm hungry and stopping when I'm full.  Hmmm, that's a concept.  I can't eat when I'm sad, lonely, happy, stressed or worried only when I'm actually feeling pains of hunger.  To you skinny folks your thinking "well yea, isn't that when you eat?"  But to us fat souls, we eat to fill a void.  What is my void?