Need Me Some Movtivation

I've had a few conversations lately about motivation.  Where to get, how to keep it and what to do with it once you have it.  The truth is....it's different for everyone.  We all have a different point that we feel like is 'rock bottom'.

Some girls hold on to the body they had when they were 16 and could eat whatever they wanted with no consequences.  They spend the rest of their lives crying over the body they once had DECADES ago and will most likely never have again.  That's life.  I am NOT one of those girls.  I was over 200 pounds when I was 16 so that is NOT the girl I strive to be.  That girl was fat.  That girl's milkshake didn't bring a damn thing to the yard....other than more milkshakes and milkshakes give me the 'rhea.

Some girls put about ten pounds on their 120 pound frame and bytch nonstop about how fat they are.  If you are one of THESE girls, please don't ever complain to me about being 130.  I will roll you up in a tortilla, deep fry you, eat you as a snack, then break off one of your legs and use it as a toothpick.  (serial killer much)

Other girls (me) have struggled with weight their whole life.  I'm pretty sure I weighed abuckfifty when I was 7 and it went downhill from there.  I've always been fairly lazy..I mean...last week I got a rash from energy..ENERGY!  Anyways, 'the fat girl' is constantly in the back of my head, reminding me of what I used to be.  That fat bytch will most likely never go away but over time, I hope I can get her annoying, high-pitched, fat voice to simmah down nah.......someday.

After having Fluffette, I was HUGE....like Michelin Man huge.  My hormones were just as out of control as my waistline so that didn't help the issue.  My 'rock bottom' wasn't just one moment but rather a series of moments.  I would sit on the floor in my closet and cry because none of my clothes fit.  I wondered why my husband loved me when I looked that way.  I doubted my self worth.  I felt like a marshmallow in a world filled with carrot sticks.  What does that even mean??  It means that I was effing fat and all my friends were super skinny.

I had two options:  lose weight.....or get new, fluffier friends.  So I started my search for fluffier friends....

I kid, I kid.

In the beginning, it was hard...like all day, every day...HARD.  (twss)  I skipped out on cake.  I took my own turkey burger to cookouts to throw on the grill, then just ate the patty with veggies, no bun.  I didn't buy crappy food to tempt myself.  I measured ev.er.y.thing.  I also started Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred.  The workouts are only 20 minutes long so I could do it while Fluffette napped.  When I cheated, and I definitely cheated, I just took a deep breath and moved on.  I tried not to dwell on the downfall but rather celebrate my victories.

One of my first victories was fitting in to my very first pair of pre-pregnancy jeans.

This was about 5 months after birthing a baby through my lady hole.  Those jeans were a size 12 but fit like a 14.  It took me about an hour of denim dips to get those bytches up my sausage legs then I sucked in like I've never sucked in before to get them buttoned.  BUT I DID.  Then I wore those ho's in public...proudly.  Nevermind the fact that I had to use tweezers to retrieve the button from my fat rolls at the end of the day...or that I still have an indention on my stomach in the outline of the waistband.  I'd achieved my first goal.

That first victory made it easier to make better choices.  Those better choices led to better victories and so on and so on.

Over the past 16 months, I've shed a lot of tears (tears of joy and tears of frustration).  I've had MANY ups and downs.....but I always stood back up, put one foot in front of the other and just TRIED each day to be better than I was the day before.

I sit here typing this weighing in 82 pounds lighter than the day I gave birth.  And yes, I abso-fluffing-lutely count that as my starting point.  If you don't think that childbirth counts as losing weight, then you're just stupid most likely a man.

I have 4 pounds to go to reach my goal weight of 150.  My size 8 pants are loose on me.  Not loose enough for me to fit in to a size 6 but I'm soooooooo close.  I've trained myself over the past year to know when to stop eating, how to make the right choices and when I can slack a little here and there.  If I want queso, I eat it.  But I COULDN'T do that in the beginning.  It takes time.  I continue to be a work in progress but I know that my smaller waist makes ME a better wife, a better mother and a better person.  I'm happier when I'm thinner.  End of story.  #doesthatmakemeshallow

A few things about this photo:
1.  I need to get my hurr did...stat.  These roots are out of control.
2.  82 pounds later and I STILL have sausage legs
3.  I am IN LOVE with  my new Turquoise Brooch necklace from Kristi's Kloset.  Go check her out!  She's a fellow stay at home mom trying to build a business and she's getting ready to add a bunch of fun shizzle for fall.