Sunday, July 17, 2016

Bingo wings

You know what I'm really tired of reading about?

How horrible loose skin is.

I'm guilty of writing about this myself. I have lamented a few times about how different my body is and how I've caught my own skin in things like seatbelts and the back of chairs. It sucks. I'm not going to lie.

You know what sucks more?

Not being able to run.

I can't run fast, but I can run now. I wasn't able to run before.

You know what else sucks more than loose skin?

Being told you are pre-diabetic and need to make some changes or you are going to be full-blown diabetic.

You know what I'm willing to have loose skin for?

Being told by my doctor that I'm not pre-diabetic anymore. That I was completely healthy. That I didn't need to worry about anything but being a little low on Vitamin D.

I got to have that day.
That was a really freaking awesome day.

I will never be able to afford to have my loose skin removed. That's okay. It's not pretty and I don't like it and no, I'll never look like a supermodel and honestly? Some time I feel a little bit miffed that I worked so damn hard to still have "problems" with my body.

That being said? Honestly, it's really not that big of a deal though. I promise.

Three different people in the last month told me they were super concerned about losing weight because of the loose skin. All of these people have a lot to lose, like I did. All of them probably wanted some sort of reassurance from me. The type of reassurance that I cannot give.

Yes, your body will change. I don't think there is any way around that. It will suck. There isn't a way around that either. It's hard. It's very mentally taxing. It's very emotionally jarring. You look in the mirror and your body isn't your body anymore. You learn to dress yourself in certain ways. You're proud but at the same time, it's weird. It's just...weird.

I would rather feel weird about my skin that have that extra 210 pounds on my body. I would rather be able to run. I would rather be able to jump. I would rather be able to lay my head down at night and not worry about my health.

I promise. I swear.

Loose skin is not the end of the world.  It really isn't. I'll still wear sleeveless dresses and two-piece bathing suits.

I'm forty. I do what I want.

I earned these mammaw arms.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Lucky 13

Recently I was talking to my therapist about Jason. I can't remember exactly what I said but it was something like, "And he seems to be crazy about me".

She pointed out that when I talk about Jason I always seem slightly in awe of the fact that he loves me.

And you know? I guess I am.

Today is our 13th anniversary.

Some of those thirteen years have been really, really long.

But most of them? More good than bad. 

So good, I married him twice. Well, renewed my vows with him anyway.

 It's been a lot of years. It's been a whole lot of fun.

There have been hard years too, but I'm not thinking about those today. Today, I'm thinking about how good it's been and how thankful I am.

Because, you will never meet a more genuine, kind-hearted man than my husband. He's hysterically funny (sometimes intentionally and sometimes not). He's forgiving. He's loving. He's a big teddy bear. Never met a stranger. He loves the Lord and his family above all else in the world, and has never gone a day without telling me how much I mean to him.

He always thought I was beautiful, even when I didn't. He has forgiven some ugly behavior on my part. He's overlooked every flaw and failing I've shown and has said, "She's the right one, even when she's not acting like it."

He tells me every single day how much he appreciates me. Even the tiny things I do, like making sure there are paper towels. He thanks me for making dinner on the nights that I make it...the other nights he makes it. There is no "woman chores" or "man chores" in our house. He does far more laundry than I ever have and makes sure the bed is made every morning. He's a better cook than I am, but you'd never know because he acts like everything I make is his favorite.

I was twenty-three when I met him. He was twenty-two. We were babies.

Now are family.

I never thought my life would turn out to be this. I really never did. 

I'm so thankful every day that it did.

Thirteen down. Forever to go.

Sunday, July 3, 2016

Time marches on.

My niece had a baby last night. I'm a great-aunt again. My great-nephew is almost a year old now.

My brother is someone's grandpa.

My sister is someone's grandma.

My children graduated from high school and are officially enrolled in college. They have been annoying me enough lately that I've finally had that moment of, "OH! So this is why people are glad to see their children go off to college!"

My husband and I are getting ready to celebrate 13 years of marriage next week. At Christmas he said, "We've been together 16 years now!". Sixteen years.

Six. Teen. Years.

My dad will be 67 this year.  I will be 41.

I don't feel like what I thought I would feel like at 41. I thought I would feel more mature. I thought I would be wiser. I thought I would somehow be different or better.

I'm not. I'm still learning.

Just this past weekend I learned (or perhaps was just reminded) that even if you personally try your best and hardest and help everyone you can there is just no guarantee that anyone is going to do the same for you. Even if you say, "We're all in this together" that's not always the case. Sometimes people are just out for themselves and actually don't care much about you.

You'd think I would have learned that by now.

My heart still gets me in trouble sometimes. I just don't know if that will ever change. I'm still praying for my children's future spouses; a nice orphan, scrappy girl for my son who will love and appreciate having me as the mother she never had and a nice, responsible, hard-working, peace-corps-change-the-world, big-hearted, funny guy for my daughter. Who loves lasagna and family dinners and sitting around the dining room table laughing. Who will both say at my funeral, "I could not have asked for a better mother-in-law".

Selfish requests? Yes. Probably. I want my children to be happy and find exactly the right people for them. I can't help but want them to be part of us too though, all of us. I don't really have desire for a baby anymore but I do desire more family. More people to love and hold on to.

It's part of why I try so hard. I know not everyone appreciates my heart, but some people do and some people are enough.

Either way, I'm not going to change. I'm just not. I'm at peace about that too.

Time keeps going, and I keep going too. Working and learning and trying. Every single day.

Thursday, June 30, 2016


Sometimes I think I'm too busy.

Other times, I know I am.

I think it's okay. Or maybe it's just the way I'm coping. I don't know. All I know is, when I am busy I don't have time for a lot of things.


I don't have time to read everyone's political rants on Facebook.

That's been pretty nice.

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Keep it up.

The other day (maybe yesterday? I don't know. I have too many jobs and I'm tired) I posted a picture on Instagram. It was me in my bathing suit.

Scandalous, right? I know.

Except not really. It was just a picture. I almost didn't post it because I don't like how saggy my legs are and I don't like my Mammaw flaps (you know the old joke...when your Mammaw waves her arms just keep on going. Ha ha. Whatever). I decided to post it anyway. I like the picture. I've lost 210lbs. I should be allowed to be proud of that, no matter how many times I've tried to talk myself out of it.

I got a lot of nice comments. They made me happy. I know a lot of really nice people and for that I am very thankful.

One person I don't know commented "Keep it up".

I'm sure they meant in a nice way. Well, they probably did. I can't see any reason why they wouldn't. But it just seems like...I don't know.

I've talked about this before. I'm sure people don't mean, "Keep going, you still look like s**t and you need lots more work!" Well, some do. I've been the recipient of some pretty mean comments over the years. Most of them don't really have anything to do with my weight. I've found that it doesn't really matter what a woman weighs, someone will find fault with it. The internet makes people really brave. They say things they probably wouldn't say in real life (however, I've been also been the recipient of some pretty evil commentary directly to my face).

But when people say "Keep it up" or "Keep going", I'm honest to God not sure what they mean.

Like, do you think I still need to lose more weight? Because I'm probably not going to.

No really. I think I'm done. I think maintaining is probably what I should be doing now. Could I lose more weight? I don't know. Maybe. Do I want to? I don't think I do. I think I'm okay.

Maybe they are looking at my legs and thinking, JESUS GOD WORK ON THAT. Hint: I think that too. Without surgery, I don't know how much more I can do. I can leg press over 200lbs. Which is crazy. An old man at the gym told me I was a badass and I actually believed him. That's a lot. That's heavy. I used to carry that around on my body. It makes me feel weird. I can't lift weights that heavy. Yet. I lift a lot of weight though. I work on my flabby arms. I try. The skin is there. It just hangs there. I don't think it will ever go away.

Maybe they say those things because they think they are positive and encouraging. I like to think that's the reason. I also like to think...what is my alternative? It's sort of like when people congratulated me for being a mom and carrying on and stuff when my first husband walked out on me when I was pregnant. It also made me uncomfortable because really? I mean...really? What else was I supposed to do? I had to go on. I had to keep going. I had to do better.

My therapist tells me that not everyone thinks the way I do. That lots and lots of people just don't try and just give up.

I don't know. I think we all just do the best we can do. That's probably the dirty hippie in me.

There really isn't a point to this post. I don't even know why I wrote it. I'm just trying to process things I guess.

It's easier to change your body than your mind. I'm finding this out.