One of my very first posts was something about "it's better to be pleasantly surprised than to be horribly disappointed" Amen! I'm not sure why I lost sight of that with my whole "Lose 2lbs a week" declaration.
I've skipped updating ya'll on the last few weigh-ins. This is mainly because I'm embarrassed.
Week returning from Denver: Up 2.4lbs
Since we spent a lot of time at breweries or brewpubs, I didn't ingest my extra 8,000+ calories in spirits. It was all in really awesome choices like carrot cake, or frozen pizza rolls & taquitos. (Thanks, A. Jill)
Week returning from NYC: Up 2.5lbs
An all you can eat Indian Buffet is just about the worst thing I could probably be part of. Sadly, I went and it conquered. The good news, I really really enjoyed every last bite of it. The bad news, it'll probably take me weeks to undo the damage I did.
Awesome. Clearly I suck at traveling...
Soooooo. Here's my new plan:
Step #1: Set more realistic goals
Step #2: Refocus
Step #3: Quit hating on myself (it only leads me to want to eat my body weight in cupcakes)
Fingers crossed until the next weigh in...
4.26.2011
4.14.2011
Pulling the Goalie*
* This post is going to be what we'd label an "overshare". Consider yourself warned...
I'm 32 years old. I've been married for just about 5 years. We've got a solid marriage, we've got a home, we're both gainfully employed, AND....we're childless. WTF, right?
I've been blessed with parents who (whether from repeated conditioning or the kindness of their hearts) have never put pressure on me to procreate. However, society as a whole sets expectations upon women. When you're little girls, they ask you what you wanna be when you grow up. When you're in high school, the questions are around what college you're going to or what you're going to major in. Then in college, it's all about if you're dating anyone, or found a job, or are going to grad school, etc. Then, you can't even be happy with dating. It's more about whether or not it's serious. Let's say you then get engaged. One might think you can just enjoy that for a while, right? Uh uh. Not so. When is the date? What are the colors? Who is in the bridal party? What's the Venue? Where's the honeymoon??? It's exhausting, really. So, finally...all that nonsense is over. Then it starts...
"When are you guys having kids?"
Okay, first of all...why is that an assumption?
Second of all, why is it your business?
Third of all, aren't you going to feel like an ass if I can't have kids and it's a sore subject for me?
I could probably go on. You might be able to sense that I'm a little sore on the subject. That's probably due, in part, to the fact that I've been told on numerous occasions by numerous gynecological experts that having children is going to be difficult for me. I even went on that scary starvation diet for a while in order to get my hormonal and ovarian issues in check so that it would be a possibility.
Mission accomplished.
So why, then, have I been stalling?
Allow me to elaborate:
so...instead of saying that we're "trying" to have a baby, we're just going to say that we're not trying to prevent it. Pulling the goalie, if you will. What will be, will be.
Wish us luck...
I'm 32 years old. I've been married for just about 5 years. We've got a solid marriage, we've got a home, we're both gainfully employed, AND....we're childless. WTF, right?
I've been blessed with parents who (whether from repeated conditioning or the kindness of their hearts) have never put pressure on me to procreate. However, society as a whole sets expectations upon women. When you're little girls, they ask you what you wanna be when you grow up. When you're in high school, the questions are around what college you're going to or what you're going to major in. Then in college, it's all about if you're dating anyone, or found a job, or are going to grad school, etc. Then, you can't even be happy with dating. It's more about whether or not it's serious. Let's say you then get engaged. One might think you can just enjoy that for a while, right? Uh uh. Not so. When is the date? What are the colors? Who is in the bridal party? What's the Venue? Where's the honeymoon??? It's exhausting, really. So, finally...all that nonsense is over. Then it starts...
"When are you guys having kids?"
Okay, first of all...why is that an assumption?
Second of all, why is it your business?
Third of all, aren't you going to feel like an ass if I can't have kids and it's a sore subject for me?
I could probably go on. You might be able to sense that I'm a little sore on the subject. That's probably due, in part, to the fact that I've been told on numerous occasions by numerous gynecological experts that having children is going to be difficult for me. I even went on that scary starvation diet for a while in order to get my hormonal and ovarian issues in check so that it would be a possibility.
Mission accomplished.
So why, then, have I been stalling?
Allow me to elaborate:
- Lack of maternal instinct: I told Sudhir when we were dating that I didn't want to have kids. This is because I just never cooed at babies or had some picture or goal in my head of having one. He claims that he thought I was joking.
- I think I'm really selfish: I once said that the reason I'm scared to have kids is because my parents are a tough act to follow. They would literally do ANYTHING for my brother and I. They put our needs ahead of their own at every possible turn. I like my things. I was worried that if it came down to Junior getting braces or me having a nice car, my kid was going to have a snaggle tooth.
- I had a really sheltered existence: Seriously, I did not do anything bad growing up. The only things I lied about to my parents were the things that I felt I would be able to do if my parents weren't foreign (i.e. going to school dances, staying out past 8pm, etc) I didn't know that people drank, did drugs, had sex, or went to parties in high school. I had a good group of friends, and we played sports, went to the mall, or to Denny's. Cool? No. Safe? Yes! Seriously, have you seen MTV Skins? I'm truly horrified that this show depicts people who are 15-16 years old. When I was 15 or 16, I didn't know what "69" meant. Christ. These kids are having Orgies and shit.
- I'm not stoked to pass on my genetic material: I have had a myriad of losses as far as the genetic lottery goes. I'm chubby, am insulin resistant, and have either had surgery or problems with all my major reproductive organs. Oh, and the hubs has issues of his own too (diabetes, asthma, etc.) Obviously, if we have a child, we will love it unconditionally. However, it's kind of terrifying to think of having a child that you have to watch go through some of the things they might have to go through. I've seen my cat (Chai) get sick repeatedly, and I can barely stand that. And obviously, I didn't even give birth to Chai and he's not a person. Just sayin'.
- I want to travel with my husband: Truth be told, Sudhir hasn't done a whole lot of oversea traveling. None, if you don't count the obligatory trips to India. Let's face it, even those were over 10 years ago at this point. However, as you may know, I love to travel in theory.
- I love Sudhir: I can't imagine denying anyone that I love so much of anything that they truly want. I also think he will be an AMAZING dad. To not facilitate that kind of awesomeness would be a real tragedy.
- The cute factor: I really think that if Sudhir and I had a kid, it would be unreasonably cute. Sudhir says that our child will be 80% eyeball at birth because we both have really big eyes (he, more so than I)
- My parents: My parents deserve to have a grandchild, dammit. They are awesome people and even though they don't pressure me, I can see that desire in their eyes. Also, if I am to have a kid, I want my parents to be a vital and active part of their life.
- Me: Finally, I've given a lot of thought to this. I'm still totally scared that I'm not going to sprout maternal instincts overnight. However, as my friends & family start to have kids, I've noticed that I do coo at babies, and I miss them when I don't see them. So, maybe I'm just like Miranda from SATC... Maybe I don't like all babies. Maybe I just love the ones that I love. And maybe, that's okay.
so...instead of saying that we're "trying" to have a baby, we're just going to say that we're not trying to prevent it. Pulling the goalie, if you will. What will be, will be.
Wish us luck...
4.10.2011
In all fairness, I told her I'd blog about this...
A lot of people who blog are cautious about mentioning friends or family. Heaven forbid that you say something that they get upset about you sharing. I try to be as respectful of my friends and family's privacy as possible*
As you can probably tell by the title of this post, today's blog is more a story about a friend. We'll call this friend "S" for the sake of her privacy. S is a perfectly delightful human being. We've been friends for the better part of a decade now. In the last 8 years we've been friends, our friendship has yielded some pretty fantastic and fun memories. Not to mention, I give her credit for bringing some of my favorite people into my life (you know who you are :)
The story I'm about to tell you is not one that is fun or fantastic. It was downright scary.
S is a perfectly delightful human being, as I mentioned before. However, she should come with a warning label (not unlike the one that came with Gizmo of the movie "Gremlins" fame) Instead of not feeding her after midnight, we need to remember to not let her get hungry. When she gets hungry, she get's angry. I'm going to call this phenomenon "Hangry".
So let me back up a bit. S was planning a baby shower for our friend who's due at the beginning of May. As many of you know, I have a reputation for being crafty. Since I'm at the age where most of my friends/family are having babies, I've gotten a reputation for making diaper cakes. For those who are unfamiliar, it's just a bunch of diapers rolled up and put in the shape of a wedding cake. You then decorate it with ribbons, toys, onesies, or whatever else you think will make it cute. If you go online and try to buy one, you'll find that they're kind of unexpectedly expensive. You wouldn't think you'd have to pay $150-$200 bucks for a really simple one. I enjoy this kind of stuff so I decided I'd try to make them myself.
S knew that I was planning on making one for the baby shower she was planning for our friend, so she called me up and asked if she could get in the action. I assumed she meant she wanted to pay for half of the goods. S doesn't exactly have a reputation for enjoying things that require patience. I was pleasantly surprised when she said she actually wanted to shop for the goods together and then help create it.
She arrived at our house before I even got home from work. When I got home, I was starving because I hadn't eaten a ton during the day. I changed, and immediately went to the fridge. This was not my first rodeo. I knew that we'd need to make a couple stops and we'd be out for at least an hour and a half or two. I asked her if she wanted a snack. She said she was fine. I downed some pineapple and we were on our way.
It all started out just fine. I did get the distinct sense that she was hungry when we walked into Target, she saw some sugar cookies at the register and screamed "O.M.G!!!! I LOVE THOSE SUGAR COOKIES!!! THEY'RE SOOOOOOOOOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!" I mean, I haven't seen her get that excited about much of anything lately. In fact, I'm trying to remember the last time I've heard her so excited. It escapes me.
Anyway, we head immediately over the baby stuff. It was clear that we didn't have the same artistic or creative ideas. Our friend is having a girl and I wanted this thing to be girly (think: pink...very pink.) She starts picking out lots of weird stuff (i.e. breast pump equipment) and I proceed to explain to her that all we need are diapers and some cute toys and ribbons to decorate it with. In other words, breast pumps are not cute. She then asks about shampoos and lotions and what not. While you can hide some of that stuff inside the center of the diaper cake, again, it's not so cute to decorate with. I was hopeful when she headed over to the bows and headbands... but she was immediately drawn to the Gothic baby colors (red, black, gray). I think this is when she started to become "Hangry".
It seemed like she was racing up and down the aisles like a crazy person just trying to find stuff so we could be done and she could leave and eat. The major source of disagreement was the stuffed animals. She wanted to get a lot of not pink stuff (a yellow giraffe, an easter chick, a really dark brown bodyless monkey security blanket) whereas, I was on the hunt for pink elephants or bunnies or puppies. I settled on the giraffe just to compromise.
We moved on. We were in the party aisle looking for ribbon and I couldn't find the right stuff. This meant that we would most certainly have to make another stop. I took a look in the cart and realized that I couldn't settle for the yellow giraffe and headed back towards the baby aisle. The Hangry One was on the phone and mindlessly followed me. Once off the phone, she realized that were back in baby aisle abyss and asked what were doing. I told her I didn't like the topper and she told me that I was being crazy. I tried to figure out how to soothe the savage beast. I even asked her if I fed her a sugar cookie would she stop being mean. Instead, I thought maybe narrowing the options would help. I gave her a few options that I thought were okay, she picked one, and then I got mean. I said "My gut instinct is to do exactly the opposite of what you say." I guess Hangry breeds Hangry. Afterall, you reap what you sow...
To cut to the chase, we got what we needed at Target and moved onto the party store, found some awesome ribbon, and the cake tray. S found some sour patch kids that got her blood sugar balanced and she became halfway rational. We went back to my house and the Hubs fed her. She rolled diapers like a champ, and to her credit, she did find a killer bib and some awesome stickers. She had to leave and left the rest of the assembly to me. In the end, the diaper cake turned out really well. S even thinks that we could go into business together & have a local diaper cake company. I told her I wouldn't go into business with her unless she's well fed. I think it would destroy our friendship, otherwise.
So there it is. On a side note, if you need a diaper cake, let me know. I have fun making them. Plus, S has volunteered to be my chief diaper roller if this business gets off the ground :)
*My dad recently said he was going to start being careful about what he says, because it might end up in my blog... I sure hope that isn't the case, dad. Comedic genius like yours would be a travesty not to share with the world. Seriously.
As you can probably tell by the title of this post, today's blog is more a story about a friend. We'll call this friend "S" for the sake of her privacy. S is a perfectly delightful human being. We've been friends for the better part of a decade now. In the last 8 years we've been friends, our friendship has yielded some pretty fantastic and fun memories. Not to mention, I give her credit for bringing some of my favorite people into my life (you know who you are :)
The story I'm about to tell you is not one that is fun or fantastic. It was downright scary.
S is a perfectly delightful human being, as I mentioned before. However, she should come with a warning label (not unlike the one that came with Gizmo of the movie "Gremlins" fame) Instead of not feeding her after midnight, we need to remember to not let her get hungry. When she gets hungry, she get's angry. I'm going to call this phenomenon "Hangry".
So let me back up a bit. S was planning a baby shower for our friend who's due at the beginning of May. As many of you know, I have a reputation for being crafty. Since I'm at the age where most of my friends/family are having babies, I've gotten a reputation for making diaper cakes. For those who are unfamiliar, it's just a bunch of diapers rolled up and put in the shape of a wedding cake. You then decorate it with ribbons, toys, onesies, or whatever else you think will make it cute. If you go online and try to buy one, you'll find that they're kind of unexpectedly expensive. You wouldn't think you'd have to pay $150-$200 bucks for a really simple one. I enjoy this kind of stuff so I decided I'd try to make them myself.
Here's an example of the one I made for another friend so she could give it to someone:
S knew that I was planning on making one for the baby shower she was planning for our friend, so she called me up and asked if she could get in the action. I assumed she meant she wanted to pay for half of the goods. S doesn't exactly have a reputation for enjoying things that require patience. I was pleasantly surprised when she said she actually wanted to shop for the goods together and then help create it.
She arrived at our house before I even got home from work. When I got home, I was starving because I hadn't eaten a ton during the day. I changed, and immediately went to the fridge. This was not my first rodeo. I knew that we'd need to make a couple stops and we'd be out for at least an hour and a half or two. I asked her if she wanted a snack. She said she was fine. I downed some pineapple and we were on our way.
It all started out just fine. I did get the distinct sense that she was hungry when we walked into Target, she saw some sugar cookies at the register and screamed "O.M.G!!!! I LOVE THOSE SUGAR COOKIES!!! THEY'RE SOOOOOOOOOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!" I mean, I haven't seen her get that excited about much of anything lately. In fact, I'm trying to remember the last time I've heard her so excited. It escapes me.
Anyway, we head immediately over the baby stuff. It was clear that we didn't have the same artistic or creative ideas. Our friend is having a girl and I wanted this thing to be girly (think: pink...very pink.) She starts picking out lots of weird stuff (i.e. breast pump equipment) and I proceed to explain to her that all we need are diapers and some cute toys and ribbons to decorate it with. In other words, breast pumps are not cute. She then asks about shampoos and lotions and what not. While you can hide some of that stuff inside the center of the diaper cake, again, it's not so cute to decorate with. I was hopeful when she headed over to the bows and headbands... but she was immediately drawn to the Gothic baby colors (red, black, gray). I think this is when she started to become "Hangry".
It seemed like she was racing up and down the aisles like a crazy person just trying to find stuff so we could be done and she could leave and eat. The major source of disagreement was the stuffed animals. She wanted to get a lot of not pink stuff (a yellow giraffe, an easter chick, a really dark brown bodyless monkey security blanket) whereas, I was on the hunt for pink elephants or bunnies or puppies. I settled on the giraffe just to compromise.
We moved on. We were in the party aisle looking for ribbon and I couldn't find the right stuff. This meant that we would most certainly have to make another stop. I took a look in the cart and realized that I couldn't settle for the yellow giraffe and headed back towards the baby aisle. The Hangry One was on the phone and mindlessly followed me. Once off the phone, she realized that were back in baby aisle abyss and asked what were doing. I told her I didn't like the topper and she told me that I was being crazy. I tried to figure out how to soothe the savage beast. I even asked her if I fed her a sugar cookie would she stop being mean. Instead, I thought maybe narrowing the options would help. I gave her a few options that I thought were okay, she picked one, and then I got mean. I said "My gut instinct is to do exactly the opposite of what you say." I guess Hangry breeds Hangry. Afterall, you reap what you sow...
To cut to the chase, we got what we needed at Target and moved onto the party store, found some awesome ribbon, and the cake tray. S found some sour patch kids that got her blood sugar balanced and she became halfway rational. We went back to my house and the Hubs fed her. She rolled diapers like a champ, and to her credit, she did find a killer bib and some awesome stickers. She had to leave and left the rest of the assembly to me. In the end, the diaper cake turned out really well. S even thinks that we could go into business together & have a local diaper cake company. I told her I wouldn't go into business with her unless she's well fed. I think it would destroy our friendship, otherwise.
At the end of the day, here's the end result:
*My dad recently said he was going to start being careful about what he says, because it might end up in my blog... I sure hope that isn't the case, dad. Comedic genius like yours would be a travesty not to share with the world. Seriously.
WW: Week 1
So in the spirit of starting with a clean slate, the update from this week's weigh in is that I'm down 1.4 pounds. I really wanted to be happy about it, because let's face it, it's a loss! However, I was really hoping to stick to 2 lbs a week. Oh well, better luck next week. (Which P.S. will be hard because this coming weekend is Girls' weekend in Denver. I have a bad feeling that eating well will not be high up on my list)
Wish me luck...
Wish me luck...
4.04.2011
It's time to come clean...
I really didn't want to have to post about this, because let's face it...for the better part of a 4 months, the majority of my blog posts were about my ridiculous battle with weight. However, it has come to my attention that I have a serious problem here. I tortured myself to lose weight from April to September of 2010, and managed to lose a little less than 50 pounds while essentially starving. Sounds absolutely crazy, but hell...it worked!
I got my insulin resistance under control, broke up with my bariatric doctor, and figured that I could go it alone on Weight Watchers. I figured that if I could have enough restraint to not eat for 4 months, I could probably handle eating reasonably within a set daily points value. Here I am, a little more than 8 months after rejoining the normal human beings who eat, and I've gained 20 of those almost 50 pounds back.
I wanted to blog about this for a number of reasons:
So here's what you've missed since I started the WW journey again:
Week 1: down 2.7
Week 2: down 2
Week 3: up 7.6 (thanks a lot, VEGAS!...)
Week 4: down 4.6 (thanks mom, for making me eat nothing but veggies for a week :)
Week 5: down 2
Week 6: up 4.6 (Thanks a lot L.A.)
For those of you keeping track, that means in 6 weeks, I'm roughly nowhere. Might as well start with a clean slate.
I'm about to kick it into high gear. Wish me some luck!
I got my insulin resistance under control, broke up with my bariatric doctor, and figured that I could go it alone on Weight Watchers. I figured that if I could have enough restraint to not eat for 4 months, I could probably handle eating reasonably within a set daily points value. Here I am, a little more than 8 months after rejoining the normal human beings who eat, and I've gained 20 of those almost 50 pounds back.
I wanted to blog about this for a number of reasons:
- Putting it in writing makes it real. I think that I kept shrugging off the pound here or there thinking "Oh, it's okay. Of course I'm going to gain a little weight! I went from not eating to eating...it's totally natural!" I don't think 20 pounds over 8 months is normal or natural. I am not, afterall, with child.
- Putting it in writing makes me take responsibility for my actions. At first, I thought that I deserved to give myself some time off from dieting. I deserved a slice of cheesecake, didn't I? I mean, I worked SO hard! I think that the problem was that I told myself that I would indulge on special occasons. Well, let's just say I interpreted the meaning of "special occasion" extremely loosely. I'm fairly certain that no one else would consider the last day of aunt flo's visit a "special occasion."
- I need some serious accountability here. I thought that doing Weight Watchers would be enough. I didn't think I needed to go to the meetings. Again...WRONG! Apparently, my crazy mind works such that I require the accountability of standing on the scale and having someone judge me if I gain or don't lose. Thus, I have started going to meetings.
- I have every bit of support that I need, so what's the freaking problem??? Not only do I have several friends who are doing Weight Watchers, I even duped my fantastic husband into doing it. Not only is he doing it, he's coming to meetings with me, and he's kind of a point counting nazi. I've almost created a monster.
- I think that saying all of this publicly (even if only 4 people read my blog) will hopefully help me recommit to this. I firmly believe that I can do this. If I could survive 4 months of starvation, I should be able to do this with my eyes closed! I should be able to do ANYTHING!
So here's what you've missed since I started the WW journey again:
Week 1: down 2.7
Week 2: down 2
Week 3: up 7.6 (thanks a lot, VEGAS!...)
Week 4: down 4.6 (thanks mom, for making me eat nothing but veggies for a week :)
Week 5: down 2
Week 6: up 4.6 (Thanks a lot L.A.)
For those of you keeping track, that means in 6 weeks, I'm roughly nowhere. Might as well start with a clean slate.
I'm about to kick it into high gear. Wish me some luck!
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