Well, here we are again!
So far, in the last week, I have GAINED 11 pounds. FML.
Weight Watchers my ass. What am I doing? Watching my weight go up? And then I get on the Wii Fit and I had set a weight loss goal, right? I gained 3 pounds and it was like "Whoa! What did you DO?!" It had several options to choose from, such as "I ate too much" or "Late night snacking." I chose the "I don't know" option.
FB was judging me with their lap band and cosmetics ads.
Next thing you know I'll be featured on POWM wearing a MuuMuu and a pair of hot pink Keds with my butt overlapping the sides of my all-terrain scooter. To your Rascalls!
I finally bought my first pair of shorts in I don't know how long. I can't wear them because I get the dreaded "triangle effect." You know, when you're walking and your shorts ride up your butt from your thighs rubbing together.
"Let me by, I'll let you by" they say, slapping together in the breeze.
I felt like I looked somewhat decent in them at first. Then I noticed you could see the loose skin hanging down to my already nasty looking thighs. Wtf am I supposed to do with that? I tried tucking and folding it in but there's really nowhere for it to go, unless maybe I use some duct tape (fixes everything!). I was excited because they go down to my knees, past the Bermuda Triangle, and I mean, come on! They're shorts! I don't have to wear jeans in the hot Texas sun anymore!
Yeah, forget that, because I look nasty as hell. I don't know what I'm going to do. I got a hair cut thinking I would feel better about myself if I did. Wrong! I still feel like poo.
And now, the part of the blog where my son says randomly funny things!
Him: Mom! Look, it's a big truck! What's it carrying?
Me: That's a beer truck. It carries nasty, nasty beer.
Him: Beard? Santa has a beard.
"My TV is magic because it never ever turns off. "
"It's an emergency! Call 911! We're missing America's Funniest Home Videos!"
And between my two sons:
Son #2: Get outta this car! Get your butt in that house right now!
Son #1: NO.
Son #2: Get out of that car! RIGHT NOW!
Son #1: Well. I will just call 911 and the police will come and get you. But they only come on Mondays.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
April 16, 2010
Today, my friends, was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
Today, after 6 months of grueling stomach aches and vomiting I decided to go see the doctor mentioned in my very first post. He of the morbid obesity and alcohol, that is.
I guess I should've expected what was coming to me, especially after stepping on the scale. I figured I had gained about 15 pounds.
Tell her what she's won!
16 pounds of ass-jiggling flab, that's what! Congratulations! Would you like fries with that?
FML.
So anyway, I was hoping that since my hair is falling out, I'm gaining weight for no reason (No, sorry, no Cheetos for me anymore), I feel like poo and I am violently ill several times a week that I could find a solution.
Apparently if I would just lose weight and quit being the big fat turd in the punch bowl I would never have health issues again. I don't even know what to say, really. I'm hurt, sad, frustrated.
Whoever said breastfeeding makes you lose weight is a LIAR!
On the other hand, at least a handful of people are on my side. Here's what my son has to say about the whole ordeal.
"Hello, Police? Mommy's doctor called her fat. You'd better come get him and take him to jail. He can only have bread and water."
"Hey, Mom? Maybe I can pretend I'm sick and you can take me to the doctor so I can tell him not to call you fat."
Forever Fat,
The Fat Mom
Today, after 6 months of grueling stomach aches and vomiting I decided to go see the doctor mentioned in my very first post. He of the morbid obesity and alcohol, that is.
I guess I should've expected what was coming to me, especially after stepping on the scale. I figured I had gained about 15 pounds.
Tell her what she's won!
16 pounds of ass-jiggling flab, that's what! Congratulations! Would you like fries with that?
FML.
So anyway, I was hoping that since my hair is falling out, I'm gaining weight for no reason (No, sorry, no Cheetos for me anymore), I feel like poo and I am violently ill several times a week that I could find a solution.
Apparently if I would just lose weight and quit being the big fat turd in the punch bowl I would never have health issues again. I don't even know what to say, really. I'm hurt, sad, frustrated.
Whoever said breastfeeding makes you lose weight is a LIAR!
On the other hand, at least a handful of people are on my side. Here's what my son has to say about the whole ordeal.
"Hello, Police? Mommy's doctor called her fat. You'd better come get him and take him to jail. He can only have bread and water."
"Hey, Mom? Maybe I can pretend I'm sick and you can take me to the doctor so I can tell him not to call you fat."
Forever Fat,
The Fat Mom
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Yesterday was egg hunting time at school. I had a vision of my boys running through the yard, picking up every egg in sight. Then we would have someone take a picture of our smiling faces and go through our haul once we got home. Then I would steal the skittles and hide them in my purse.
Or not.
The boys, upon hearing "go," immediately froze. Every egg I would show them another child would run by and swoop up. Every kid in the class had a bucket overflowing with candy, all except mine. They managed to pick up 3 of those nasty, gritty candy eggs that no one eats. All hell broke loose when my older son saw the Easter bunny. He screamed. He was in hysterics.
For one thing, I was afraid this would happen as he is already terrified of men with mustaches (see previous post). He took off running. Somehow in the mix his pants got unbuttoned, so as he was running his boxer briefs became exposed and he would NOT stop so I could fix them.
Pants on the ground, pants on the ground. Lookin' like a fool with your pants on the ground.
My younger son followed suit and started screaming as well.
I did manage to have a picture taken, me squatted down (which was no small feat), baby girl in the BabyHawk, boys on either side of me screaming and trying to run in the opposite direction.
Luckily it gave me a chance to wear my new Sperrys (Thanks, Mom!).
This morning I'm wearing a Dallas Cowboys t-shirt, cropped sweats and the aforementioned new shoes. We're supposed to go to the country club this morning and watch my kid sing, but I'm just not sure whether the old gal can hang this morning.
Anyway, doody calls!
Or not.
The boys, upon hearing "go," immediately froze. Every egg I would show them another child would run by and swoop up. Every kid in the class had a bucket overflowing with candy, all except mine. They managed to pick up 3 of those nasty, gritty candy eggs that no one eats. All hell broke loose when my older son saw the Easter bunny. He screamed. He was in hysterics.
For one thing, I was afraid this would happen as he is already terrified of men with mustaches (see previous post). He took off running. Somehow in the mix his pants got unbuttoned, so as he was running his boxer briefs became exposed and he would NOT stop so I could fix them.
Pants on the ground, pants on the ground. Lookin' like a fool with your pants on the ground.
My younger son followed suit and started screaming as well.
I did manage to have a picture taken, me squatted down (which was no small feat), baby girl in the BabyHawk, boys on either side of me screaming and trying to run in the opposite direction.
Luckily it gave me a chance to wear my new Sperrys (Thanks, Mom!).
This morning I'm wearing a Dallas Cowboys t-shirt, cropped sweats and the aforementioned new shoes. We're supposed to go to the country club this morning and watch my kid sing, but I'm just not sure whether the old gal can hang this morning.
Anyway, doody calls!
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