thursday's brain vomit

That's a pretty gross title. maybe I should change it?

Warning people….I have a lot of browser windows open right now…I’m reading blogs, doing work, entering contests to win this GORGEOUS chunky gold chain bracelet from Taylor Morgan Design, that Elisabeth is giving away over at her blog La Vita e Bella...I'm leaving comments, procrastinating answering emails, brainstorming upcoming blog posts, weekend plans, dress ideas for wedding season,  toddler dinners….my brain feels ultra caffeinated, but in that strung out, crackhead way, not in the productive sort of kicking ass and taking names way. It’s exhausting.

So forgive if this is all over the map, k? cuz I think somebody slipped some pop rocks in my lean cuisine or something.

That doesn’t even make any sense.

Also? Lean Cuisines? Vom.

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Hey, if you guys follow me on the twitters? Sorry for the major flood of sandwich texts last night. I've mentioned my crush on Adam Richman, and he was live tweeting last night during the first episode of his new show, and I was feeling saucy and trying to get a little twit-enntion (just made that up. like?) to no avail, so yeah….sorry. I am obviously a loser. That’s ok. I was just using him for the food porn anyway.

(just kidding Adam. You know I still want to share spaghetti with you like Lady & The Tramp. I'm just trying to look cool and aloof on my blog.)

I have to talk to you guys about my hair dryer drama. Is anybody even interested? Because it is pretty aggravating, and I am trying to stay away from the bitching on this here blog, but man oh man….so stay tuned for that. I know. You are panting with anticipation.

Escuchame! I also need to break down the latest with my Weight Watchers adventure.

Sigh.

It’s not the prettiest. I need to get my ass back on that elusive wagon. I am quitting my old gym this weekend, joining a closer gym and working hard on my list of excuses motivation. But I’ll save the gory details for another day….right now? I think I need to just have a cup of tea and do some deep breathing or something.

Peace out, sprouts.

Alka seltzer & regret (a Weight Watchers Update)

Go big or go home? I went big all right….balls to the wall, and not in a good way.

Here’s how the story went down….Weight Watchers was closed yesterday, which is the day I usually go for my weigh in and weekly meeting, so I had to weigh in on Saturday instead (here’s where the blaming starts)…of course, I couldn’t get my act together on Saturday morning and didn’t get out of the house until almost noon, so of course I had already had a gallon of coffee and some breakfast…so a day early and after a full breakfast, the receptionist chirpily informed me that I had gained two tenths of a pound.

I always knew this day would come eventually, and I fully expected it would make me want to drink bleach, but I was suprisingly ok with it...the little voice inside my head was already rattling off excuses…

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Between my weigh in and the time we left for Passover dinner at Uncle Petey’s in Queens, something snapped and I was all f@#% THIS dumb program! I’ll show YOU two tenths of a pound! And um…..well, that’s where the downward spiral began….

Between Saturday afternoon and Sunday night, I managed to consume approximately ALL of the wine in Queens and Suffolk county (this is not a joke.) as well as an embarrassing amount of brisket, too many matzoh balls to count, chocolate drenched matzoh bark, at least 26 Reese’s miniature peanut butter cups, a ramekin of broken up, stale tortilla chips drenched in melted cheese and Frank’s Red Hot (my weakness. I never claimed to be classy), a sheet of matzoh covered in butter, a whole basket of chips with salsa and ranch (which they serve you in a soup cup, by the way) from chili’s and a grilled chicken sandwich with cheese, bacon and THREE (yes, three.) sides of honey mustard. Oh, and fries. A lot of fries.

Sometimes you have to go back and do the things you used to do to remind yourself why you stopped doing them in the first place.

I woke up this morning feeling like I got hit by an 18 wheeler. I threw down a cup of alka seltzer before I left the house and scratched and clawed my way back up the side of the wagon….the wagon that for the past few days got so far away from me, I almost couldn’t see it, but I tracked it down…..and I climbed back on and I’m here to say that the next time I try and fall off said wagon, cuz there will most certainly be a next time, I promise at least to hold on to the back bumper with one hand.

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Passover & Easter were both delightful, despite the gluttony and sloth that seemed to be my M.O….Ben had an awesome time hanging out with his cousins, the food was delicious (obviously) and the laughs were plentiful.

The Easter basket was a complete surprise and the look on Ben’s face when I walked in the room with it yesterday morning was absolutely priceless….He dug right in, went straight for the good stuff and was covered in a peanut butter & chocolate Reeseter Bunny in no time at all….yes, before breakfast. Sometimes, in the name of fun and celebration, you have to make questionable parenting decisions. That's where the good memories are made....

Hope your holidays were all happy and healthy!!!

Weight Watchers....an update

I know you’ve all been on the edge of your seats waiting to hear how the Weight Watchers journey is going…knowing me, as you do by now, you might expect me to be all “this blows, my life sucks, I’m gonna go eat a bucket of chocolate covered worms” and honestly, I kind of am feeling a little bit like that, as usual, but I’m holding back! Especially on the chocolate covered worms part….cuz, you know, they probably have too many points. :::eye roll:::

Ay-yi-yi….what has become of me? I resisted for so long. I used to be able to do this on my own and I am still not convinced that an organized, meetings based, point counting scenario is that much better than anything I ever did before during the times I was successful, but there are two things I AM sure of…

This time, for whatever reason, I needed accountability to be my motivation. Most things for me always have been (and still are, shamefully) a lot about appearance….what this journey should be about, is health, but I never claimed to be mature. That said, and not having anything in the future to “look forward to” (thanks for that outlook, Depression. Very helpful!), I couldn’t dig up any motivation to do this on my own. For what? Lowering my risk of diabetes, heart disease and cancer? Living a longer, healthier life to spend with my son? Being able to run that half marathon I keep daydreaming about? meh. Pass the Ruffles. But accountability? Actually having to face that number on the scale, and a room full of people, and a judgemental, caffeinated meeting leader, and oh yeah, MYSELF for the first time in forever? The very real threat of SHAME? I’m in.

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The other thing is that……wait for it….I don’t hate this as much as I thought I was going to!

I’ll give you a second to pick yourself up off the floor. I know. I know. it shocked the hell out of me too….but you know, getting up early on Sunday morning to face the music and then sit in a room with a bunch of other fatties who aren’t judging me (and I call us fatties in the most loving way) is comforting. All of the sudden, I don’t feel like I deserve to be run over with the Twinkie truck….instead, I feel like I deserve a hug….a hug, and maybe also one of those sample bags of Weight Watchers Popped BBQ Potato Crisps they hand out. Those aren’t half bad!

There are things I still need to work on. I have a mental block about letting myself eat all of my points. I don’t think I will ever let go of that. I’m not torturing myself. I always hit the daily minimum of 26, but most days I don’t go too far over that, and I am supposed to. I don’t use my weekly “extra” points. Ever….and you know, they say you should. They stay it’s a lifestyle, that this is for the long term, that you can’t stick to something if you feel deprived. I get that. but I also know myself and have been on this dieting wagon on and off for….oh….god…ALL MY LIFE. They don’t encourage alcoholics to sniff empty whiskey bottles 3 weeks into their 12 step program and nor should I be allowed to let the reigns slack just yet. I will, in time. Trust that I will….and you will see it all. Because it will be amazing and it’s name, I’d wager, will be LOBSTER ROLL. Be ready for that.

Anyway, I know what you came for, so I will give up the deets…

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The first week, I lost 7 lbs…I was all “wahoo!” and high on life.

The next week, I only lost 1.2 lbs and I was not so high on life anymore. I was still in the angry phase, and that, coupled with a pitiful loss, really kind of did a number on me, but I held strong…

Last week, I lost 1.8lbs., so I’m not winning any speed contests here, but at least the scale is moving in the right direction.

I’m not used to slow results. I am a crash diet, instant gratification person. We see how well that has worked for me in the past, right? I'm trying not to panic. I am trying to take one day at a time. forgive myself if, say, instead of dinner I accidentally drink 16 points worth of wine (oops.)

The important thing is that I have crossed over that mental hump. Do any of you know what I’m talking about? There is a clearly defined line in the sand for me which separates the first however many days or weeks where throwing in the towel is a red level threat alert vs. all the time after that until the goal is reached when throwing in the towel becomes no longer an option. I crossed it. That's huge.

Next up….we excercise. crap.

coming january 2013......

The real me!

Ok, NOT to go all rose colored glasses, hippy dippy, glass half full optimistic on you cuz clearly, with the way I’ve been lately, you’d think this blog had been hijacked, but I’ve been doing some thinking….

Last night, I rolled into my driveway and took out my gorgeous erin condren planner that I ordered for myself at the end of last year to celebrate a new beginning after I made my first appointment with the therapist . Still sitting in the car while Ben caught some extra z’s in the backseat, I went through the entire year, writing down every Sunday what my “goal” is, basing it on a 2lb./week average. I can hear you doing the math in your head. Stop. Just stop. It’s ugly. And it doesn’t matter, anyway because it’s over.

All my life….at least since that awkward age when I became aware of fashion and style and aware of how painfully I was lacking, aware of how I was always taller than the other girls, in the back row of class pictures and the drill team, aware that my best friend in high school who stole all the boys I liked from me was tiny and cute and weighed 100lbs and I….did not….ever since then, though I was never able to execute it, I knew there was a style that belonged to me. I knew it belonged to me, because my mom pulled it off so effortlessly and she? In case you didn’t know, was perfect.  She reminded everyone of Goldie Hawn, Kate Hudson…she had an effortless, ethereal, boho vibe before it was the thing to have. She had boxes and boxes of jewelry that I now own that sits in my closet because I don’t feel cool enough to wear it.

So, I’m working on a project. A project of utmost importance. A project to find the real me. She’s in there. And she's just like her mother. I can see her, barely, but she’s there, peeking out from underneath a pile of shitty clothes from kohl’s, a bag of Doritos and a venti caramel frappucino, extra whip. She's wearing a white gauze maxi skirt, sandals, some funky tie dye, racer back camisole, a couple of delicate necklaces of varied length. She's carrying a floppy hobo bag that doesn't quite match with a wrist full of string, leather and gold bracelets, hoop earrings, big sunglasses, a perfect tan and a smile on her face.

And she is scheduled to arrive sometime shortly after the holidays, which, admittedly seem very, very far away, but it’s just a year. just one, little year till I get to meet her and I haven’t been this excited since I was waiting to meet my son.

weight watchers: points "PLUS" they say....

They make it sound like WHOA!! YOU ARE GOING TO BE EATING YOUR FACE OFF ON THIS DIET.

I am here to tell you right now that the marketing ploy is genius, but it is a giant pile of crapola. First of all, make no mistake about it; I am not a small girl. It’s ok. I own it. What I do not want to own anymore is the baby weight and then some that I never took off due to depression/avoidance/denial/anxiety/apathy (should I go on? I could do this all day…).

Right before I got pregnant, I was the healthiest I had been in a long time…maybe ever. I was running…and excited about it! I was looking up races, setting goals, feeling inspired! The weekend after those 2 lines showed up, I was down in D.C. running a 5k with my girlfriends, looking good, feeling great, genuinely HAPPY. And then? I started spotting. And, due to my history of basically not being able to make babies stick, the doctor told me I shouldn’t run anymore. And so I didn’t. And looking back, I can pinpoint that as exactly when the depression started.

Long story short, I haven’t run since. Nor have I stopped eating. I have pretty much been chewing nonstop since May 2010. I am an embarrassment to myself and, once he realizes it, will also be to my little boy, who deserves to have a healthy, beautiful, strong mother that can run after him and pick him up and swing him around in her arms. He deserves, when I am gone, to be able to look back to his baby pictures and see photos of us together, not just photos of him and his dad because I would rather die than be photographed. Completely eliminating myself from my family's memories. Not awesome.

So, I joined weight watchers.

And so far? I hate it. (I am just being bitter and mean because I am hungry)

I hate that I have to do this. Right now, day 4, I am in the mentality of hating everything. Especially my body. I hate my thyroid for having Hashimoto’s and not working right, ever. I hate my metabolism for being a piece of shit. I hate my out of whack brain chemicals for making me depressed and anxious and unmotivated. I hate that I love food and that a glorious, steaming plate of eggs benedict makes me happier than almost anything. I hate myself for all the time I’ve lost and the (potential) happiness I sacrificed. I hate that there are other people who have it so easy. It’s not fair. There, I said it. and I know I sound like a big whiny cry baby, but I’m just hungry. And I’m going to stay hungry, until I am done with this battle, once and for all, because I am sick of thinking about it and sick of talking about it and sick of buying clothes in tiny sizes and daydreaming about how much better life will be when they fit. God, shutUP, you know?

So anyway, here I am. If you listen carefully, you can hear my stomach growling. I will, obviously, continue to bitch about update you on the process.

In other news, to make myself feel better, I bought myself a brand new duvet cover and shams for spring from The Company Store. I really love their prints, but I am not all that jazzed that most of their printed sheets have a scratchy 200TC….I’m a sheet snob, tis true. Regardless, I’m going to use this gorgeous thing with my wonderful 1000TC grey sheets I got for my birthday that I have yet to take out of their package and I could not be more excited. Do you love it?

We also got the print order from Ben’s first birthday shoot we did back in December and Oh! Muh! Gawd!!!!!! Are these photos ever amazing! I can’t wait to frame them and I really want to do up a photo wall in the house somewhere, I just need to figure out where… I THINK I am allowed to post the ones I purchased the rights to, but I am saving that for another day because they deserve their own spotlight. They are incredible.

In the meantime, join me in hanging in there? 2 ½ more days till a 3 day weekend, people!