Of Biblical Proportions

As you all may know, I named my pouch/new stomach/sleeve “Baby Jane” for its lovely way of swinging from moods and foods like a crazed, nearly forgotten child star.
So it seems fitting that I’d also name my belly button.
It’s a train of thought (albeit not a great one) but stick with me here.
I’ve pretty much always been a chub. Still am. And around the 6th grade I lost contact with my belly button. One day he was there, looking surprised as ever, and then one Pizza Hut Book It Personal Pan later he was gone. Swallowed up by his neighbors and forced into a gold of darkness for years to come.
However, with my new eating ideals and occasional gym outing there’s a very good chance he may reappear. It’s an exciting feeling.
Rapturing even.
So what’s the perfect name for this elusive part of my body preparing to show itself once more?

Jesus.

I’ve named my belly button, Jesus.

Because of his Second Coming.

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

I’m Glistening!

This week had been my town’s festival. Thursday night was the parade and I walked the whole thing.
THE. WHOLE. THING.
Now, losing weight has not made me any more of an athlete. I still dread exercise more than most people fear the dentist. Or tax season. Or clowns.
But I did notice that dragging 200 pounds was a lot easier than heaving my 300 pound frame through the streets of my childhood town. Before I couldn’t have walked a block, much less a mile. And, yes, I collapsed/stripped as soon as I got to a semi-public place.
But I made it.

I made it!!!

🙂

Just Eat It

Remember when I wrote about spending a LOT of time watching others eat while you try desperately to look busy or enthralled with your napkin?
Well, it’s so true.
But tonight, instead of relying on stimulating conversation, I made my own fun.
And Mashed Potato Snowman.
With a Brussels Sprout cap.

Whomever said “Don’t play with your food” has obviously not had weight loss surgery. We can’t eat it all so – ART! 🙂

199.

GOOOOOAL!!!

I had to hop on and off the scale twice today to make sure I wasn’t delirious after a night of kid-puking frenzy- but it was still there!
199!
199!!!
It’s like sighting a rare, thought-to-be-extinct species out in the wild.
Like a t-Rex.
Or an albino puma.
Or—- a unicorn.
Yessssss!
Someone hand me a horn cuz I’m a mother-freakin’ unicorn now!
🙂

“I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR!”

Since I began my weight loss journey/epic trek/insanity hike I have struggled with clothes. Sizes, fits, and mental breakdowns over too many choices leave me shaking in the aisles while my husband flashes varies shirts in front of me like a cotton kaleidoscope.
So he bought me a shirt.
That fits.
And boasts: “I have nothing to wear.”
I. LOVE. IT!

Remember Me?

While attending my son’s preschool Open House I warmly greeted my old chums and was met most every time with a blank stare. Then their eyes would travel to the blonde little boy clutching my hindquarters and they’d shout “OH MY GOD! I DIDN’T RECOGNIZE YOU!”
Now, true, I’ve lost a bit of weight but did I really look so different? Physically, yes, I know I felt better without an extra 80 lbs hugging my mid-section but mentally?
I still feel like a size 24/26.
I still look at my new pants with skepticism and doubt that their smaller circumference is any match for my bottom circumference. I panic when I go into stores that have mirrors because I’m afraid I’ll catch a glimpse of a fat roll (or four) and have actually apologized to my reflection when I thought I was in her way in an aisle.
I worry, too, that the other size 12/14’ers are silently judging me at “their” rack. They nudge me, mentally, toward the single plus-sized rack until I finally admit defeat and instead browse the safer one-size-fits-all accessory rack. You can hide a lot under an artfully arranged scarf and handbag.

The Gastric Sleeve (or any weight loss surgery) will give you smaller sizes but it doesn’t fix those who have been “Big” for so long from seeing themselves as something to apologize for existing.

Which brings me to my next point: I was a happy fat. I had a husband who loved me, a kid who thought I hung the moon (or at least named it), and a social network of friends that has been in place since damn near Kindergarten. But I always felt controlled by food and I didn’t want to see the pattern repeated in my son.
So I made a decision.
And even though I still see myself as a Big Girl who would sooner sell her soul than step on a scale, I’m learning to like her, too.
Even if she scares me sometimes.

Carry On, Carry On

Our local indoor/outdoor Flea Market is filled with treasures beyond measure – and some very measurable at about a buck or so. As my husband loaded up our child’s stroller with Hot Wheels and vintage toys to trade for — other Hot Wheels and vintage toys I happily grabbed my four-year-old’s hand and headed for the glass entrance doors.
About three steps over the threshold, the fruit of my loins suddenly melted and demanded to be carried.
Being his mother and seeing no other alternative (his stroller as toppling!) I picked up his 42 pound butt and wrapped him around my waist.
By the time we reached our destination I was a sweaty mess and aching in places I had forgotten existed.

Which brings me to this post’s point: I had to lug around over forty extra pounds today for about ten minutes and I ABOUT DIED.

How did I even walk anywhere with 80 extra pounds before?

And, that being said, shouldn’t I be able to EASILY benchpress two small kids based on my previous weight?

Humph.

Stupid physics.

🙂

The List

A list needs to be made of all the foods which, upon regurgitation, don’t taste all that bad. It would be incredibly handy for pregnant women, Gastric Sleeve patients, people with delicate gag reflexes, and many others. I have found, recently, that anything containing garlic is not a good thing to revisit in reverse. Fruit and veggies are pretty darn forgiving while meat in any form is like hell-fire with a side of bile.

Yes. Someone (not me) needs to buy a website, name it “Regurgitation Regulations” or “Pukemiester” or something a lot more clever and update it regularly.

On an added note – I wore a semi-see-through shirt today:

Me, Four Months Later

I’ve been hesitant to post actual photos of me on here but I think it’s important to show that I’m real, that I struggled with real Food Demons, and that I’m still here.
So this picture shows how different my face looks after four months of Gastric Sleeve dieting.
I couldn’t really see a difference in the mirror but this picture definitely shows a change.
Especially in cheek girth. :)~

Going DOWN…

Oh. YEAH.