Alright. For a while now I've been debating posting this kind of entry on my blog. It's an entry about my body. I know a lot of people don't want to read this kind of thing. But? It's my blog and I'll post whatever the crap I feel like posting. So there.
Ok. At the root of this post is my unhappiness with myself physically right now. Over the last six months or so I've gained and lost weight depending on the chaos of my life and how I was dealing with it. I know this is somewhat "normal." But guess what? I don't care if it's "normal." You know why? Because I did too much work to get back in shape after Sean was born to be such a lump now. Let's go back in time for a bit, shall we?
When I was pregnant with Liam? I gained seventy pounds. That's right. Se-ven-ty. Seven Oh. Before that? I wasn't "skinny". But I was in pretty decent shape. I was a happy size 8. I had Liam (who was totally worth the seventy pounds, by the way) and for some strange reason thought that all that pregnancy weight would magically disappear. Stupid, I know. Anyway, I was all kinds of depressed because of my weight and probably a touch postpartum as well. I didn't do much to take care of myself. I was, essentially, a big unhappy lump. One of my biggest failures as far as I was concerned was that up until I got fat? I didn't think my looks mattered to me all that much. I thought I was "deeper" than that. And I felt like I was now a hypocrite by feeling as depressed as I did. I knew being a size 16/18 wasn't the end of the world. But it still felt like it deep down inside.
When I became pregnant with Sean? I was terrified of getting even fatter and only gained eleven pounds with his pregnancy. Which sounds all great and such until you remember that I had already gained more than half of my previous body weight with Liam's pregnancy. Oy vey. Anyway, Sean was born. I wasn't quiet so depressed this time though in hindsight I think it was because I knew Rusty and I weren't planning on having any more children so my body was mine again. All of a sudden? I was all kinds of motivated.
After Sean stopped nursing at six months old, I joined Weight Watchers. I started walking and then eventually running. Over the course of the spring and summer following Sean's birth I lost almost sixty pounds. I wasn't out to get "skinny". I was out to find some part of myself that I felt I'd lost under all that weight. I was back in a size 10 and even an 8 in some things. I felt like myself again. Then? We moved.
The first couple of months in Maryland weren't all bad. I stayed the same size and ran a bit. But then the contract on our house in Ohio got held up. Our few months living with Rusty's mom turned into almost a year. Rusty's mom? God lover her, she doesn't really cook. We ate out a lot. A LOT. It took its toll and I was back into a size 12 then a 14. And I've been battling it all this past year. We're in our own place again and you'd think that would help. But with the kitchen renovation, and the house upheaval overall? Plus the stress over the summer with Liam's testing? I'm now a very unhappy size 16. So what will I do about it?
Well, for one thing? I'm not a big fan of making New Year's Resolutions. Because? I break New Year's Resolutions. And then I feel all bad about breaking the stupid resolutions. So I chose to ignore the whole thing. But last week I snapped. I hated looking at myself in the mirror. I hated not buying clothes because I refuse to buy size 16. It's not a vanity thing, either. I'm 5' 4" (and that depends on my shoes). My frame is not happy lugging all this extra poundage around. So at the urging of Liam's teacher - who is really great and has lost 45 pounds herself since school started - I started going to Jazzercise right up the street from my house. Oh heaven help me.
I don't know what I expected. I mean, I guess I thought it would be all "dance-y" and whatnot. Oh noooooooo. It kicked my butt. Which irritated me so I went back. And then went back again. I went four times last week and tonight will be my second time this week (the whole pink eye doctor's appointment thing kept me home Monday and Tuesday). I actually got out of bed and hauled booty up the street at 7:45 last Saturday morning just to jump around like a fool for an hour. And to laugh at myself with Maria (Liam's teacher, who is fast becoming one of my new favorite people).
So. What does all of this mean? I am not a size 16 if I can help it. If I exercise and try to at least be somewhat conscious of what I'm eating and then I'm still a size 16? Then fine. But I'm doubting that's the case. So I'm putting here in writing. I'm not going to obsess about some number on a scale. I'll rate it by sizes. I won't freak out and only write about my diet or exercise or whatever from now on. In fact you may not hear it from me again. But if you do? Please be patient and tolerant of me. If you're a size 16? Don't take my unhappiness with it personally. It's not the size. It's me.
Ok. That's all I have to say. Move along.
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5 comments:
Oh crap. Now that you've gone public with your unhappiness and need to be healthier, I'm feeling like I need to face my unhappiness with my size and post pregnancy-stress weight gain. Darn. Now I really have to do something. Crap. That's what I get from reading your blog. No cute kid photos. No brainless pointless posts. Yea, see if I ever come over again.
Sheesh!
This is not your husband.. this is a totally anonymouns stranger.
You are the cutest, Sexiest, sweetest woman in the world! Your Husband is Sooooo lucky.
ps. whats for dinner tonight? I'll be home around 5:30
Um you got strangers calling you sexy on you blog...talk about spam, and now they are hunting down your address and coming for dinner.....yikes.....I've given up fighting the fat gene. I'm just going to vow not to get any fatter, and to lose 10 lbs a year, which means it's way doable, and by the time I'm old I'll be nice and slim. Seeing photo's of my grandma, and then my great grandma...I'm cursed.
".. If I exercise and try to at least be somewhat conscious of what I'm eating and then I'm still a size 16? Then fine."
See, this is my fear. I've never really dieted (except for one 6-month stint with Weigth Watchers after college, which was very effective; it took several years to gain the 60 lbs back.) Of course I put a lot of emphasis on self-acceptance etc, but I also have this, running in the background: 'what if I decide that I DO care and I DO change my eating habits and I really work hard at it and do my best and I still end up a size 24?' For me, that has seemed worse - sadder - than just being a 24 who has never dieted.
But it's possible that I am coming around to your 'then fine' position...Pregnancy was actually good in that way, since I worked very hard on dietary and excercise stuff that could not POSSIBLY have ended up with me having a smaller waist. (And I actually miss walking , which I would never have expected. I'm anxious to get back at it without "overdoing" (my constant problem.)
You know what, Bets? That's what I've really been fighting up until now. That "what if this is how it is?" feeling. But I'm tired of wondering, I guess.
The woman teaching my favorite Jazzercise class so far? Can talk all the way through every single stinkin routine, jumping around like a maniac... and is easily a size 18. A very firm, very confident size 18.
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