Monday, April 1, 2013

Them Ripped Khakis, Though.

Nothing screams "fat old teacher" quite like having two twiggy preteen girls come up to you at lunch giggling as they sweetly whisper "Mrs. Atkins you have a hole in your pants."

... seriously? Yes.

True story. Sadly.

I learned a good lesson from it, though. You see normally I would have been depressed and cried about it and hated myself even more, but I was kind of sick of doing that. I've been doing it a lot lately.

I'm having a hard time with my weight. It is so. hard. to look at that scale and truly love myself and believe that I am doing everything in my power to maintain a normal life as well as lose weight. It's hard but I'm doing it and it's discouraging because it's just not working. The scale continues to creep toward a number I have sworn to myself I would never ever allow myself to see.

*Note- I have Poly Cystic Ovary Syndrome and hypothyroidism. I'm fighting a seriously uphill battle in regards to weight loss thanks to my whackadoodle hormones.*

What to do, what to do. Well, on that day I refused to have the meltdown to which I have grown accustomed. I refused the anxiety and embraced a Kohl's credit card (only because of the additional discount. It's paid off and not to be used unless it will then immediately paid off). The pants that tore I had been wearing since college. Anyone that has gotten married knows that after marriage things don't fit the way they used to- it just happens.

So I got a new pair of pants. That are really loose. And comfortable. And will not rip. Ever.

Life has been full of these moments lately. Unfortunately in each instance I haven't always had the grace to forgive myself and trudge on. My husband tells me every day I'm beautiful and how much he loves me. I am so blessed in that.

So that's where I am. I wish I could continue this post with some sort of epiphany or happy ending, but too many 'bloggers' only talk about the good stuff and it comes off pretty pretentious. This space for me is meant to be a place to share my feelings, my memories, and things that I want my children and grandchildren to be able to look back on and laugh at, enjoy, and shed a tear over.

Y'all I am so not perfect. My life is not perfect. My husband is amazing but we fuss and fight with the best of 'em. I have a pretty smile and pretty hair but my midsection leaves much to be desired and I'm willing to admit that to the world.

I'M NOT HAPPY WITH MY BELLY. It happens. I'm working on it, but it's really hard because I like food. I'd love to exercise but have neither funds nor time nor self esteem enough to drive to a gym. But I'm hell bent on losing weight and getting healthier so my plan is to dig deep and make some time to walk/exercise and continue working on finding foods I enjoy that don't pack such a carby, fatty punch.

What's life without the not-so-savory stuff to make those rich moments all the sweeter?

Besides, one day those sweet little twiggy girls will get married and become mamas and know the same woes.  I hope. ;)


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