Heave, Ho

This isn't a post about ousting my sister (sorry, Big Sis, I couldn't resist). This is a post about my big butt. It is getting bigger and bigger. I should say wider and wider because it's doing that as well. I used to say that I didn't have anything to fill up the back of my pants, but I really can't say that anymore. Even though I carry most of my weight in the front, the back is trying desperately to catch up.

I have never been super skinny. Who am I kidding? I've never been skinny. I've been skinnyish, but that's as good as it gets. I've always said I was built like a corvette: curvy, low to the ground, and red and black are my best colors. Not only that, but if you're going to take me on, it will cost you lots and lots of money. I am very high maintenance. At one point, I was down to about 125 pounds. However, as men were having conversations with my boobs instead of me, I realized that wasn't the way for me. I like being on the curvier side. Just not this far on the curvy side.

I had lost some weight last year and thought I looked pretty good. "Don't you feel better?" was the question that several people asked me. I hate that fucking question. I didn't feel bad to begin with, you ass. It wasn't about feeling better, it was about having a larger selection of clothes when I went shopping. When you are short and extra large, the selection is either mu'u mu'u or mu'u mu'u. Omar the tent maker, here I come. I wanted to feel good about myself when I put my clothes on. I already felt bad enough when I saw myself naked. I swore to myself that I would not go back to where I was. Guess where I am?

I am an emotional eater. I eat no matter what the emotion is. Lately, I have been stressed and going, going, going, to stressed and sitting on my couch. Either way, the stress is what's been getting me. It all goes back to that stupid job in Texas. It has just gone on and on and on. There has not been a resolution yet. No phone call, no email. Hubby and I have decided that it probably won't happen. My thought is, as bad as I would love to go home, I don't know if I want hubby to work for someone like this supervisor. If there is a hang up in the position, or someone else got the job, communicate that please. We don't want to schedule too much and then realize that we're moving. And then the question. "Have you heard anything?" Sometimes I just want to cry. No, not one damn word. I would just like closure one way or the other.

I gave up chocolate, sodas, and dessert for Lent. You would think that eliminating those things would help. It did. Except that I replaced them with other things like cookies, and chips, and whatever I could get my hands on. Hubby and I were walking and then the weather got cold and rainy. There went that outlet. We used to snack on apples at night. That would be our before bed snack. Now it's chips and dip, cookies, whatever. No wonder I can't lose any weight. All of the healthy, organic produce I eat should be doing something. It's not, except settling on my belly, thighs, and hips.

I want to look half way decent in a bathing suit when we go to Hawaii. It's a year away. I need to start now. I've been giving it the half assed treatment. I do yoga when I want, we walk if one of us doesn't give some lame excuse. I even blew up the exercise ball. I love the exercise ball. I've used it once. It's almost like my mind and my body are fighting for control. My mind says to get up and move, put the food down. My body says screw you, I'll do what I want. Wouldn't it be nice if they could get along? It's like listening to my kids fight. You would think I would get smart and tell them both to shut up.

All any of this means is that I am miserable. When I wash my jeans, I CANNOT put them in the dryer. I have to hang them to dry or I can't button them. I can't fit into any of my nice church clothes. I had to go buy a pair of pants in my old size so I could wear something other than jeans to church. Hardly any of my other clothes fit, either. I have 2 pairs of shorts I can wear. Ugh!

I have always been one to feel comfortable whatever I looked like. While I have always been the heaviest of all my friends, it never stopped me from drawing a crowd in the clubs. Just last year, I had a couple of college guys hoot at me while I was rushing through the grocery store. Yeah, as a mature mom of three, I was so digging that. This latest weight gain is hurting my confidence, my self esteem. It's not about what I look like. It's about the effect it has on my mental state. It's not good right now.

I'm hoping that since I've put it out there, it will make me more accountable. I am hoping it will be the kick in the pants I need to help myself. I'm not asking for you to run up and bitch slap the hamburger out of my hand. I just need a little wink, a little nudge, when I make the right choice. If you focus on the bad choices, I will eat two hamburgers while calling you names in my mind, and sometimes out loud. Yeah, that's my bad attitude. Better choices, better body, feeling better. We'll see anyway.