A Week Later

Not a whole lot to say, except I got my birthday wish! A week later, I finally made it to 193. Well, 193.2, but I'll take it.

I still hate these lousy pants, but I'm going to hang in there a little longer.

Other than that, life is good. =)

Yesterday was breakfast for dinner. We thought we might have company, so we went all out. The company thing didn't happen, but my kids were in love with their dinner. I have never heard my 8 year old, in all his life, say something like this at the dinner table: I've died and gone to heaven. We (that is to say, they) had scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, hash browns, and apple pecan Belgian waffles with homemade buttermilk caramel syrup. I did make them start out with a fruit and vegetable smoothie, though, so it's not as bad as it could be I guess.

It smelled really good. It was hard to pass it up, but luckily for me I'm in a good place for passing things up right now.

And the scale rewarded me for it.

Death Of A Scale

Well, my friends, today is my birthday.

The first goal was to be 175 by today. Then I spent a couple of months of craziness, gaining and losing--but mostly gaining.

Then the goal was to just get myself back under 200 by today. Then I started doing really awesome and the weight started coming off really fast. So I got a little ahead of myself,

So then the goal was to get to 193--or at least 195.

Well...I can almost guarantee you that didn't happen. Yesterday I had a half pound gain, putting me at 198.3. When I weighed myself before bed, it gave me no hope that I would have a loss this morning.

Still, you never know, right?

Unfortunately, this morning all the scale said was "Err". Several times. I think it's finally done. I tried new batteries, too. So no weigh in for me this morning! Happy Birthday, right?

On the bright side, I'm okay with 198, even though there was a gain yesterday, because I can say 100% that it was out of my control. I was 100% perfectly on plan and I did my part. So the gain is just one of those things. Had I gained because I strayed a little, I would have felt terrible. AND, I have to be grateful that I did at least make it under 200 for the birthday.

So, onward and upward. Time to text the husband so that he can pick up a new scale on his way home from work.

Just Can't Catch A Break

So my pants, my 14 pants, that have loved me and hated me over the past few months--they're dead.

Yes, I admit it. I have only had one pair of pants for several months now. It just worked out that way--and I have refused to buy any more until I could buy a size down.

These pants of mine got a tiny hole by the zipper a week or so ago. Tiny. No big deal. I knew they were on the way out, but no worries, because I've been on my way down. So I wouldn't need them too much longer anyway.

Well, today the little tiny hole caught on something, and RIP went the pants. Big, huge hole.

So I dug out the other pair of 14s. Now, because these are both yard sale pants (you know, because I was going to breeze right through them onto size 12) I'm not sure, but I am guessing that the ones that ripped today were 14 woman, and the other ones are regular 14s.

These other 14s are a bit tighter. They are also a different style, so the legs taper on the way down. They are tight all the way down, and I hate that. That is why these other 14s sat in the bottom of my drawer, ignored, for months and months. I hate them because they're tight.

And now they're all I have.

So I got to the point where my pants felt good again, and were actually loose, and now I'm back into tight pants. I have a muffin top again. Just a little bit of one, thank goodness, but it's still there.

I look at that as a blessing. Now these pants are my only option. I will not have a moment's peace in these pants until they're loose. And I'm on my way! I will have a constant reminder, all day long, that I am definitely NOT done with this journey. I hate these pants. But I'm already loving them because they'll keep me working.

Muffin Top

I saw this one on pinterest and I thought it was so funny. 

Funny but not. I've been a muffin top a lot the past 3 months. And I have hated it. 

It's been such a hard 3 months for me. Up and down and up and down. And up and up and up. And down. 

The best thing that you can ever do for your weight loss is to get rid of your clothes as soon as you fit into smaller ones. If I had hung on to a bigger size pants I would have started wearing them. And I would not have had to experience all the discomfort of stuffing my poor little muffin top into them. My shirts stopped looking good. They stopped looking even decent. I haven't worn them for probably two months. I've been wearing my husband's t-shirts. There were a few days where I just had to wear my pajama pants or workout pants during the day. And if I had to go to the store, I had to stuff myself into my jeans, and then I couldn't even walk without feeling every bulge. So gross. I was not a happy person. Every day I proved my theory that "fat and happy" is a lie. 

Everything else in my life was great. Right on target. Absolutely no complaints. We found a fabulous house, the kids love their school and are doing awesome. They have lots of friends in the neighborhood. Church is awesome here. My sister and her family came to see us. I HAVE MY HUSBAND BACK. I mean, who could complain? I have no complaints whatsoever. But it's funny how out-of-control-eating can taint everything. It makes all those happy things less happy. I felt like crud so much. 

The thing that really kicked my butt back into action was my clothes. I mean, I can't exactly wear my husband's t-shirts to church. And I can't just wear workout pants everywhere I go. And I refuse to EVER buy a size bigger. So there was only one choice--fight.

So I've been fighting. I'm still in the red--in debt to the scale. Luckily, though, the debt is almost paid. Today I weighed in at 198.9. I have mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, I hate that 198.9 feels so great. Because a few months ago, 198.9 would have made me cry. But on the other hand, I feel great that it's back out of the 200s. It is what it is. It's not a fairytale.

Another blogger posted today about ending weight loss part one, and beginning weight loss part two. So you set a big weight loss goal that takes several months, or a year, to accomplish. And after all that time, you accomplish it. And then you just need a break. You're not quitting, but you just plain need a break from focusing so much energy on all the effort weight loss really takes. And then you start part two. So for me, the goal was to lose 100 pounds while my husband was in Iraq. And I did it. I started losing a little bit before he left. My real start weight was 303. When he left, I was 293. So losing 100 meant getting to 193. And I did that, plus a little. Part one.

Then life went completely haywire. I would have liked the break to have only been a week or two--and it  might have been, if I hadn't been in the middle of a whole life-upheaval. But it is what it is. At any rate, I have fought and I have worked really hard to get back into a good place with the weight control. And I have started part two. There should be no more upheavals for a while, so that's good. Part two is to get to 174. For me, the dividing line between overweight and obese is 175. I don't really have a date set for 174. I'll hit it and then I'll go from there. 

My goal is to hit pre-move weight for my birthday. That's Monday. Four days to get 193. I think it will happen. But even if I only hit 195, I'll be thrilled. All I want for my birthday is to start wearing my own clothes. I am wearing my jeans and they are fine--a little loose again. But the shirts--I'm almost scared to try! I'll try again once I hit 195. 

I'm on super hard-core plan until the end of May. Hoping to get under 180 by then. 

I'm back.