First I would like to say thank you to my (expletive) uncle who remarked on my weight gain some 10 years ago. Would you have kept your rude comment to yourself, I never would have come to my own conclusion that I was 'fat'. NEVER.(sarcasm) I only have to look at my 5'1" self in the mirror daily. Birthing 2 children after all entitles me to carry some extra weight. For how long is up to me. No one is here to judge. Unless of course you're my (not so slim yourself,buddy) (expletive) uncle. He obviously is here to judge me. Obviously.
The mirror never lies, right? I saw my reflection. My petite frame looked plump at best. Nothing wrong with it really. Yet, his words 'You got fat'. Stung. Bad. My yearly doctors appointment had me at 161 pounds and slightly high bad cholestrol levels. Dr. made her usual plea to eat better and lose a few pounds. Okay Doc. Sure thang (wink wink). Did I believe my health was at risk from a few pounds and bad cholestrol? Not really. So, every year I made no changes to my lifestyle.
Then that comment. Not under his breath. Not to someone else. To my face. I fumed, cursed and laughed. Again, laughing cures everything. Then, just like lots of people I bought workout dvd's, home gym equipment and the like. Even attempted to eat healthier. I watched the videos, even got a few miles on the dreadmill and when I didn't see quick results, I quit. I quit before I gave it a chance. But more importantly, I didn't give ME a chance. It was a mental battle. One I wasn't ready to fight. Yet.
Now with an impending move across the U.S. for my husband's job, I definitely had no time to focus on anything but moving. Can you relate to the ridiculousness of moving?! I mean packing every single thing. Not just my things, but everyone's things. There should be a rule. Leave your crap and just buy ALL new things where you're moving. If only.
We moved from our home in the Great Southwest (and our families) to the East Coast. New Jersey. South Jersey. Exit 45.(Jersey joke). Laugh. It's funny. OK. Not really.
But you know what IS funny? Moving across the country and having everything go wrong. Now that's funny. Funny in a 'what the hell are we thinking ?! ' sorta way. If the universe had been holding up a sign that said 'Get the eff out of this place' we missed it. Not like she didn't try and warn us. Housing market was inflated, hubby's job sucked and the humidity did nothing for my curls. (Ok that's not a sign really, but still) The first couple of months of hotel living wasn't so bad. We all felt like rock stars. Rockstars on the road. But without the groupies. And without fame. And money. So, yeah, nothing like a rock star. And. I'm. Rambling. Okkkkayyy.
In the end, we had two bad realtors with home deals gone bad. And the third one was a charm. Figuratively and literally. Thank goodness for him because I was on my way to crazy town. After months of living in a hotel, any home would have been thee perfect home. The day of closing was like a dream. Except for one last HUGE sign from the universe. What is that you ask? I know you didn't ask. But I know you want to know. This crazy dumb bitch (not a female dog) ran through a red light and plowed into our car. Are you laughing yet?! No. I know you're not. But WE were. Well not literally laughing, but I SO wanted to evil laugh right there in the middle of the road. In the rain. Did I mention it was raining? Well played Mother Nature. Kudos universe. I hear ya.
We bummed a ride from our only friend the realtor who said 'hey guys if you don't want to go through with this (closing) I completely understand'. What a guy. He had been so patient with us after two bad realtors and he was willing to let us walk away. We should have ran. Fast. But instead, we stayed. For now.
What do you think all that stress did to me? If you said, 'make you an alcoholic' You would be half correct. I'm not really a drinker. But when the dust settled, I had a few bottles of wine. In one night. For a week. Or two. KIDDING! Only about the 2 bottle part. No, really. Stress does a lot to your health. Some people lose weight when stressed. Me? I gain. Because I eat. A lot. At least I used to.
After ALL that, I was in a fighting mood. If my uncle had been there, I would have for sure punched him. Or maybe just stepped on his foot. A few hundred times.
The fighter in me had come out in full ninja mode. I was finally ready to tackle my weight. Not for my uncle. Not for my doctor. For ME. The RIGHT reason. Not because someone said I was I was fat. Not because I thought I was fat. Although it did bother me at first. It hurt my feelings. And it was rude. But you know what? I was over it. Sorta
Continued on next blog. :)
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