Fat Jeans

As the temperatures of North Texas began to decline, so did the number on my scale.  I am down 3.8 pounds since last week and that gave me the confidence to do something that I haven’t done in a very long time.  Yup, I decided to try on my fat jeans.  I haven’t fit into my fat jeans since early 2011.  Shortly after purchasing said fat jeans, I went on a diet and managed to lose about 13 pounds.  Then Mr. Fluff got me pregnant so I, very quickly, gained back that 13 pounds (and an extra 48). 

Before I even put the jeans on over my cankles, I convinced myself that the outcome would be depressing.  After about 20 minutes of Denim Dips to get them over my buh-dunk-a-dunk then one last jump up and down to get them up to my waist…I did it!!!  They buttoned!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Did my waistline look like gooey marshmallows oozing out the sides of a s’more?  Maybe.  Did I say a prayer each time I bent down with Fluffette that the crotch wouldn’t blow out?  Maybe.  Did people judge me because my pants were so tight they looked painted on?   Maybe.  Did I get funny looks once I left the Target bathroom stall because I tripped over my left foot while doing Denim Dips and crashed in to the wall?  Maybe.  Did I have the indention of a button and zipper on my gut when I took off the jeans at the end of the day?  Maybe.  Did I dwell on any of these negatives?  HELL TO THE NO!  I don’t care if these jeans are clearly mismarked (I am not a size 12) or that many people judged me.  Nope, I thanked sweet baby Jesus for inventing Empire waist shirts and the abililty to layer and wore those jeans like I was getting paid for it.  Me fitting in to these jeans is a lot like putting Fluffette in 3 month clothing.  It may hurt a little and some shit’s gonna  get dislocated, but it CAN.BE.DONE!! 

The success of fitting in to these jeans (and I use the term “fitting in to” very loosely) helped me make better choices.  Rather than eat Raising Cane’s with the rest of my family, I opted for a Lean Cuisine instead (and then took a bite of a chicken tender when nobody was looking).  It also helped me complete Week 4 day 2 of my Couch to 5k as well as start Jillian Michael’s Ripped in 30.  I have fallen multiple times but I always stand back up and it is finally paying off.  I’m getting my shape back and even have the slightest hint of muscle in my arms.  I now know that I’m capable of doing this. 

Rockin my painted on fat jeans!

As the old saying goes: “Life is not measured by the amount of times you fall but by your ability to stand back up and kick life in the balls”.  Ok, this isn’t an “old saying” but definitely a "Fluffy saying”! 

Today I stand tall (mostly because my jeans are too tight and my ability to bend is limited).  I have life by the ears and I’m kicking it square in the balls.  

Fluffy  in Frisco

Bringing Sexy Back: Attempt #4,598

Approximately 62.47% of women struggle with getting off the weight they gained during pregnancy.  Now, before you get all “fact check-y” on me, I made up this number so I didn’t have to actually do research.  You are already fully aware of my high level of laziness so this shouldn’t surprise you. 

Anyways, since becoming a mother (and on top of that, a stay at home mother), I have found that the simple pleasures in life are no longer that “simple”.  Not only have I struggled with losing the weight, I’ve also struggled with putting myself together.  I will admit that in the last 4.5 months, I have spent most days in sweats and a t-shirt and rockin a matted side pony (no, not on purpose).    I don’t always brush my hair….or my teeth and if I shower before noon, I consider that an exceptional day.  I rarely dry my hair and have used the ol’ straightener about 3 times in the past year.  I feel that I consistently smell like thrown up formula or baby pee and could change a poopy diaper in my sleep.  All of this and I wonder why I have such a low self image?!?!!? 

Last week I took matters in to my own hands and decided that I needed to put more effort in to ME.  First stop was the nail salon.  I went for a much needed mani/pedi and eyebrow wax.  Luckily, I wear glasses so I was able to cover up the small family of birds that nested in my eyebrows.   I was not, however, able to cover up the dry crustiness on my heels.  My cheeks flushed pink when they had to bring out the industrial strength sander and saw but I didn’t care, it was worth it.  I left the salon feeling like a new woman.  It’s amazing what a little nail polish can do!

Next stop…the mall.  I, like most girls, LOVE to shop but shopping when you feel like a fat cow is definitely not at the top of my list.  I have exactly one pair of pants that currently fit  (actually a little too big…holla)and probably 5 shirts that I can wear.  None of which are the least bit flattering.  As I walked from store to store (over multiple days), I kept waiting for a Pretty Woman moment.  “I’m sorry, we don’t have anything here for you”.  Luckily, that never happened.  Unfortunately, I have an issue sometimes with opposite self image syndrome where I think that I am much smaller than I actually am.  I will pick up a size, frolic to the dressing room then find myself in tears because that size doesn’t fit over my calves.  Or, I put on an outfit in a dressing room and think that I look hotter than a barrel of fire only to take a picture and see that I need to upgrade my phone so I can have the panoramic picture option to fit my hips in the picture.  To say that shopping was a disappointment is the understatement of the year.  I found a couple of shirts, a pair of shoes and a necklace.  That’s it.  I’m planning to steer clear of any stores until I am no longer considered Plus Size. 

After having several crying fits over clothes and my inability to look good in them, I decided I would try something scary.  Make-up.  Those of you that know me, know that I do NOT wear make-up.  I’m more of a “what you see is what you get” type of gal.  This is actually code for me being too lazy to spend the time to put on makeup.  IF I wear makeup, it’s powder, mascara and chapstick.  I decided that I would amp that up a tiny bit by going to Sephora for eyeshadow.  I wanted something easy that I could apply in one swift brush stroke that would lighten my eyes beneath my glasses.  The lady very quickly informed me that I would need to have several layers to accomplish this so I accepted her challenge.  I told her that she’d have to show me.  So I went and sat down while she went through one bajillion steps of how to make my eyes pop.  That seems easy enough (rolling eyes).  Ok, now it’s my turn to try what I’ve just learned on my other eye.  All of a sudden I turned in to Edward Scissorhands and couldn’t.hold.the.brush.  It was the most awkward looking thing ever and the makeup lady had her hand on her heart and I know she wanted to say “Bless your heart”.  Bytch.  I dismissed her pity and kept going.  Primer…check.  First color all over eyelid….check.  Second color on eyeball part of lid…check.  Third color just on eyebrow bone….fail!  As I was trying to follow her instructions and do a circular motion over the brow bone she kept saying “Brow bone……brow bone…your brow bone….no, your brow bone”.  With each time she said “brow bone” her voice got a little louder.  I said “um….where is my brow bone?”.  So, she took my finger and showed me.  “Ohhhh….my BROW BONE, yes, yes….I got it”.   During this time, Cam’s (from Modern Family)  younger, thinner twin became my cheerleader.  He kept telling me that I was doing great and that it would take time to get used to it.  “oh girrrrl, we need mascara now.  I’ll show you a great tip”.  Awesome!  Another thing that will make me look like a 3 year old that just got in to her mother’s makeup.  Can’t wait. (sarcasm font)  So he told me to look down and he placed the mascara wand at the base of my eyelashes and wiggled it up.  He said that it would make my eyelashes look longer and fuller.  Unfortunately, when I tried it for myself, it just looked like clumpy tarantula legs.  He tilted his head to one side and had a pity smile on his face and told me to keep trying because it will really make my eyes POP.  Deep sigh.  So, I loaded up every product they showed me and headed to the checkout.  $84 later and these eyes better do more than just POP!  They better make my husband’s pants fall off!!!  (by the way, it totally did..hair flip.  Sorry mom)

And so, for the first time in a long time, I put myself together.  I dried my hair, straightened my hair and did my bangs in a little braid to keep them back out of my eyes.  I put on foundation, powder, 44 steps of eye makeup and mascara and even lipstick!  Mr. Fluff, Fluffette and I headed to the Dallas Arboretum for our Day Date and I will admit…I felt great!  Mr. Fluff told me how beautiful I looked and for the first time in a long time, I believed him.  I won’t bore you with the fact that I sweated my ass off at the Arboretum so my makeup was short lived and most of it ended up on napkins.  Nope, that’s a minor detail.  Later that afternoon, I reapplied, put on some heels and a cute top and went on a date with my husband.  This was VERY needed and we had the most amazing time.  I fell in love with him all over again.  (are you crying yet?.  Bwhahah)

Yup, I made an effort and it felt great.  You know what else feels great?  Weightloss.  I’ve lost 4.2 pounds since October 4^th.  This is wonderful news considering my recent run-in with funnel cake.  I am now 21.2 pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight and 46.2 pounds away from my ultimate goal.  I will get there eventually and when I do, the malls of Collin County better watch the f*ck out!!!

Makup Artist of the Year,

Fluffy in Frisco

Fallin and Suckin

Well, I fell off the wagon…again.  I know this is a complete shocker given my background at being super awesome at sticking with stuff.  I first started to teeter towards the edge last week during a cupcake class (decorating cupcakes isn’t the best choice one could make on their weight loss journey).  I managed to make it through most of the day without eating a cupcake but then I finally fell, face first, in a pile of cupcakes. 

It didn’t stop there.  I worked out last Monday, then not again for the remainder of the week.  The weather in good ol’ Texas fell below the 90s so all I wanted to do was curl up with Fluffette and watch Flipping Out and every Real Housewives of Anything episode ever aired.  As each day passed, I told myself that I would “work out twice tomorrow”.   I had good intentions but damn Andy Cohen down at Bravo decided to air yet another marathon of catty girls at each other’s throats so I HAD to watch! 

As if I hadn’t fallen hard enough, I then realized that I got one of my sausage legs stuck in the spokes of said ‘wagon’.  Before I had the chance to stand up, I realized that I was at Octoberfest and there was a Funnel Cake lying next to me.  With the powdered sugar and fried goodness remains still gathered around my mouth, I then ate a turkey leg……and nachos….and Sonic Cheese sticks…..and my Grandma’s earthquake cake….and her homemade bread….and her homemade biscuits and sausage gravy.  (There’s actually saliva dripping from my lips just thinking about.  Damn, that woman can cook!) 

On the drive home from Grandma’s house on Sunday, I realized just how hard I’d fallen. I felt awful and bloated and downright disgusting. I reassured myself that I am human and temptation lies around every corner.  I am not yet strong enough to say no to Sonic Cheese sticks.  I will pray that they go out of business so that I won’t have to worry about that temptation any longer.  I realized that I needed to stand myself up, dust off the powdered sugar, and just move forward. 

Monday was a new day so I put on my spandex and running shoes and I started over……again.  When I got home from my run, I turned on 30 Day Shred and spent the next 20 minutes on Level 3 with my pal, Jillian Michaels.  I cursed her for being skinny and also for not being nearly as funny as she thinks she is.  Nobody’s laughing at your jokes, Jillian.  NO ONE!!   I digress.  I then realized that I just flat out suck at eating right and exercising but vowed to myself to work on it. 

Speaking of things I suck at……I took another cupcake decorating class today and wanted to share some pictures with you.  I was craughing (crying from laughing so hard) in the middle of class by just how awful my cupcakes turned out.  Please see below for proof.

1.        Panda.  Guess which one is mine.

It appears that my Panda has a bit of a weight problem.  And by the looks of the left side of her face, she has also fallen off the wagon many a time.  The teacher came up to me and said, "It will look better once you get all the components on it.".  "um.....I'm done".  She walked away.

We were supposed to make two but my eyes were swollen from craughing so I just couldn’t do it again.  So I left them like this:

  

I continued to put my "special" stamp on a Fish Bowl, Monarch Butterfly and Crazy Horse.  I think it’s safe to say that I...NAILED IT! 

The morale of the story is this:  When you think that you suck REAL bad at eating right and exercising, just take a look around.  The world is FULL of other things you suck at! 

Coming soon to Cupcake Wars,

Fluffy in Frisco

10 Things I Hate About You

It seems I’ve gained a new pen pal through my weight loss highs and lows.  I decided to share our most recent correspondence with you.  It went a little something like this…..

Fluffy,

1.        I hate the way your arse jiggles when you run.  No, you do NOT look like you’re running on the beaches of Baywatch.  Please stop telling yourself that.

2.       I hate that your running playlist includes songs from: NKOTB, Miley Cyrus, Jessica Simpson and Naughty by Nature.

3.       I hate that when your scale fell below 200 (fat ass)this week that you were 2 seconds away from having a one woman wet t-shirt contest.

4.       I hate that you would’ve lost the wet t-shirt contest.

5.       I hate that you spend 20 minutes talking yourself out of a late night snack. You are not hungry.

6.       I hate that your ankles are larger than Fluffette's thighs.  (and I don’t need to remind you how chunky her thighs are)

7.       I hate that while changing  Fluffette's  diaper today, you sang "Fluffette, Fluffette .  Why the eff is your diaper wet.  Fluffette, Fluffette .   I mutha fuggin just changed that shet”.  You will NEVER get a record deal. Please let it go.

8.       I hate that you told yourself that when you get down to 145 pounds you will run a 5k in a bikini.  You have too far to go…and, let’s face it, the world ain’t ready for that shit!

9.       I hate that you keep pinning skinny jeans and leggings for “style inspiration” on Pinterest.  You could never pull this off, sausage legs.

10.   I hate that you struggle so much with your weight.  You were so happy in a size 6.  Why’d you have to go and eff that up??!!?!

Keep dreamin,

Skuffy (skinny fluffy)

Dear Skuffy,

First off, let me applaud you for getting your inspiration for this letter from a cheesy movie made in the 90’s.  Even Julia Stiles is ashamed of that film.  (rolling eyes) 

I was going to address each of the above comments separately but decided I don’t have time for your cattiness.  This stupid attempt at getting in my head while I struggle through losing this baby weight (plus 25 pounds) is just dumb and I’m not falling for it.  Please remove the giant stick from your ass and stop taking yourself so seriously.  Now, go put on your party pants and come ride this ‘Slip n Slide o’ life’ WITH me! 

And, I (don’t) hate to be the one to break this to you, but you have fat ankles too.  It’s where we store most of our awesomeness. 

I get knocked down but I get up again.  You’re never gonna keep me down.  (yes, this is a Chumbawamba reference.  I am THAT cool)

Fluffy in Frisco

Fluffy,

So, if you’re mad, get mad.  Don’t hold it all inside.  Come on and talk to me now.  Hey, what you got to hide?  I get angry too.  Well, I’m a lot like you.  When you’re standing at the crossroads, and don’t know which path to choose.  Let me come along.  Cause even when you’re wrong, I’ll stand by you.  I’ll staaand by you.  Won’t let nobody hurt you.  I’ll stand by you.

Yes, I stole the lyrics from “I’ll stand by you”.  Sue me.

Your partner in crime,

Skuffy

Yes, my pen pal is the skinny version of myself. 

Yes, I know I’m crazy. 

No, I don’t want the number to your psychiatrist.

Side note: If anyone actually reads this blog, please comment and tell me what song really gets you going!  Apparently, I need to update my running playlist. (dramatic deep sigh)

Knuckle bumps,

Fluffy in Frisco

The Fat, The Skinny and The Fluffy

Today I decided to take a little stroll down memory lane and share a couple of pictures with you.  The first picture is me at my heaviest.  This picture is from 2004 and I was pushing 3 hunsky. 

I’ll give you a moment to clean up the vomit……………………………………………………….  You missed some.  No, on the other side.  Ok, I think you got it all. 

That's right, I barely fit in to that poor, unsuspecting booth.  To get this way, I ate…and ate…..and ate.  And then ate some more.  I haven’t looked at this picture in quite some time and it’s definitely a swift kick to the balls.  I’ve blocked out this time in my life and honestly don’t remember ever being this large and (not) in charge.  Bottom line, I ate my feelings…and apparently the feelings of those within a 20 mile radius. 

Fast forward to skinnier days….

In 2005, I underwent gastric bypass surgery and lost 140 pounds.  I wasn’t at my thinnest in this picture but I was well on my way (around a size 8).  This was one of my first attempts (of many) to bring sexy back.  Sooooo close..(laughing).

And here I am today (after my run), smack dab in the middle of it all.

 Since giving birth to a toddler Fluffette, I’ve lost 35.6 pounds of the 61 pounds I gained during pregnancy.  For that, I am proud, but I have so far to go! 

I think this is a good time to turn this bytch in to a list.  Since starting this mind eff of a journey on September 5^th, I’ve:

1.       Lost 7.8 pounds.

2.      Lost 3 inches overall.

3.      Completed Level 2 of 30 Day Shred.

4.      Completed Week 2, Day 2 of Couch to 5k

5.      Exchanged my love of Taco Bell’s Double Decker Taco and Chicken Burrito (770 calories) for 3 Fresco  Tacos (420 calories)

6.      Written 7 posts in this blog.  Halfway to my goal!

7.      Received a Keurig coffee maker as a gift for being so awesome from Mr. Fluff.  This has no bearing on the story but I’m happier than a bird with a French fry! 

8.      Picked up 20+ followers, none of which are family!

9.      Started to track my food intake in My Fitness Pal.

10.  Quit tracking my food in My Fitness Pal.  (I’m so lazy)

11.  Signed up for the 2012 Turkey Trot.  That’s right bytches, I’ve signed up for my first run EVER.  I’m super excited but the thought of this also gives me a mild case of ‘rhea.  Deep breaths, Fluffy, deep breaths.

To end this random  and all over the place post, I leave you with this….

Just bein’ all awesome,

Fluffy in Frisco

A Sprint Not a Marathon

Or is it “a marathon, not a sprint”?  Either way it involves running.  Something I haven’t done since the 80’s, and even then, I was just running after the ice cream truck. 

Well, I had a weekend full of indulging on the following: (you know how much I enjoy making a list)

1.       a bite of a corn dog (aka “just the tip”),

2.       mac n cheese,

3.      meatloaf,

4.      a wine tasting

5.       and the piece de resistance…Mamaw’s fried okra (you wouldn’t have turned it down either). 

Even though I tried the whole “in moderation” thing, I still made horrible choices and knew I had to do something to make up for it.  Enter the Couch to 5k challenge.  I belong to a super elite and private Facebook Fit group (ONLY 6,198 members…Hair Flip) and many members have been talking about this challenge so I decided it was time for Fluffy to get all “Run Forrest Run” and give it a go. 

First things first… I checked my app store to see if there was an app for that.  Well paint me red and call me a barn…THERE IS! I added the free app and my life changed forever. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t that life altering but it’s a damn cool app.  It tells you exactly what you need to do and when you need to do it.  Check it out… 

Day one included a 5 minute “brisk” walk followed by 20 minutes of running for a minute then walking for a minute and a half.  Walk, run, repeat.  I turned on Pandora and sang along to “apple bottom jeans, boots with the furrrrr”.  I was KILLING IT!  Why haven’t I tried this sooner?  Oh yes, that was only 7 minutes in and I was still on a high.  Fast forward 13 minutes and I thought I was going to die.  I was dry heaving and sweating in rolls I didn’t even know I had.  I wanted nothing more than to collapse on my neighbor’s freshly cut lawn in the fetal position and just listen to the remainder of the workout in my headphones.   Then my (current) favorite song streamed through my headphones and I was filled with motivation and drive.  I was pushing harder (that’s what he said) and even began to throw my hands in the air and dance/run along to the music.  (true story.  My neighbors got quite the show of Fluffy in Spandex).  If this song doesn’t make you want to “whistle while you work it”, then I don’t know what will.  (this link only works on a desktop)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=foS9P4p9HyM

If this song didn't make you wanna shake your booty,well, you just suck.  End of story. 

As the song came to a close, so did my workout.  I EFFING DID IT!  I finished the hard part (that’s what she said) and was now on my cool down.  As I listened to New Kids on the Block (my cool points are at an all time low), my eyes began to sweat.  I think some people call this “tears”.  I am not one of these people.  Yes, my eyeballs began to sweat as a feeling of accomplishment swept over my body.  I am not a runner and never have been so this is HUGE to me (again..that’s what she said).  I know it’s only one 20 minute walk/run but that’s one more than I did last week dammit and I’m proud.  As I made the last turn to my house, the sun was setting and it was definitely a “moment” for me. 

Every day is your opportunity to start the next chapter of your life.  So stop making excuses and start writing that new chapter!!!!! 

One small step for man, one giant Denim Dip for Fluffy,

Fluffy in Frisco

Spandex

Ah yes, Spandex…….(looking in the distance as if deep in thought).  The official meaning of Spandex is “something that should not be worn by fat people or those who hate getting wedgies”.  Ok so this is the official definition in the Urban Dictionary and not your everyday run of the mill dictionary.   But who the hell wants the “real” definition??  Anyways, I definitely agree that spandex doesn’t look good on all people but I’m here to say that I don’t wear it to look good.  I do it as a safety precaution for my fellow gym goers.  Would you rather judge me because you can see every dimple, wrinkle and roll or would you rather get slapped in the face by one of my wobbly bits flailing about?  The choice is yours. 

As a Fluffy girl, I just can’t wear workout shorts or even loose fitting sweats when I workout.  Workout shorts end with my thighs punching each other as they fight over which one gets to develop more red bumps than the other.  And loose fitting sweats consist of my ass cheeks slapping the fat roll just beneath them as in “high five, good to see you again”.   Either way, the slapping and punching makes a noticeable noise that can’t be missed even with the loud “today’s top 40” playing in the background.  So to all the Fluffy girls I say “you wear the shit outta that spandex gurrrrl”. 

In random news, I decided to look up the definition of Fluffy in the Urban Dictionary and this is what it says:

An awesome type of person. Can often mean adorable, fun loving, and cuddly. Fluffy can be referred to as a person who is extremely attractive on occasion. Um…HAIR FLIP.  “extremely attractive on occasion”  This part made me laugh so hard I tinkled a little.  Now, to be honest, I’ve lost a bit of my bladder control since having Fluffette so I have been known to sneeze and a little pee comes out.  Oh, the joys of motherhood.   Back to reality….. I started 30 Day Shred last Monday so I’m currently on day 9.  It should be day 10 but I just couldn’t get my shit together on Friday to git er done so I’ll add a day to still get the full 30 days.  This workout is simple.  Not easy but all the exercises are simple in that you don’t have to learn how to do a triple toe loop or an 8 count dance move.  Even so, I sweated my face off and still can’t make it through the whole thing without marching it out here and there.  Nothing is more motivating than watching Jillian Michaels and her two sluts assistants in their spandex, sports bras, workout shorts and sweats.  All things NOT Fluffy.  I definitely called them “effing bees” and “hoodrats” throughout the workouts.  It kept me going.  These skytches (skinny bytches) aren’t this way because they ate hot corn dip, rice krispy treats dipped in chocolate or drank their weight in Michelob Ultra this weekend.  Nope, these skytches are this way because they worked at it (or are all secretly addicted to cocaine).  Bottom line, Fluffy has a long way to go but she WILL get there.  I too will someday wear my cute little capri sweats rolled over at the top and be able to do a whole workout without those sweats rolling down over my FUPA.  (if you don’t know what FUPA is you can check out the Urban Dictionary for further clarification).   Here’s a group picture from the workout this morning…… As of my weigh in this morning, I am up 3.2 pounds which is an overall loss of 1.6 pounds. Positives: 1. Still an overall loss.  2. I made a lot of great choices this week including taking my own turkey burger to a cookout 3. Started working out 4. Most importantly…I’M NOT QUITTING. Goals: 1. Drink more water.  2. Write down what I put in my mouth. 3. Allow myself a cheat meal….not a “cheat all weekend”.  I leave you today with my added verse to my rap song to be named "Fluffy's Anthem” ***note: this is best read while shrugging your shoulders and bobbing your head to get you all rap-y.  My hips, my thighs My scale’s been tellin’ me lies Dip front, then back and side to side, Don’t stress out, take it all in stride. 16 measure musical break followed by 8 measures of beat box. I own the day and I own the night Gonna workout till this shit’s tight One of these dayz I’ll be outta sight Cuz, it’s all about me and I’m worth the fight.  The Original Gangster, Da Fluff

Just a Girl

Let me tell you a little story about a girl.  A girl that wanted to be the school mascot but never had the courage to try out.   A girl that wanted to be the pretty one…or the skinny one…or the popular one.  A girl that has always been the funny one.  A girl that says the F word more than she should.  A girl that enjoys cheesy movies.  A girl that rocks out to Miley Cyrus.  A girl that wanted to be a hip hop dancer.   Um…are you done laughing yet?  This girl COULD  be a hip hop dancer.  Rude.   Moving on…A girl that never knew she was capable of the amount of love she has for her husband and daughter.  A girl that loves food.  A girl that would eat more salads if the lettuce was deep fried.  A girl that has been hurt.  A girl that has hurt others.  A girl that enjoys hearing about other people’s drama because it makes her feel normal.  A girl that can drop it like it’s hot.  A girl that struggles with “picking it back up again”.   A girl that has seen every Friends episode one bajillion times.  A girl that wanted to name her daughter Chandler.  A girl that dances in front of the mirror.  A girl that poses for pictures with her hands on her hips to make her arms look smaller.  A girl that snorts when she laughs.  A girl that laughs at her own jokes before telling them.  A girl that most times has no filter.  A girl that quits most everything she starts.  A girl that loves playing charades.  A girl that will slit her wrists with a plastic knife if she sees anymore political shit on Facebook.  A girl that dreams about food.  A girl that is very addicted to Pinterest.  A girl that hates shaving.  A girl that loves Fall because she doesn’t have to shave as much.   A girl that secretly loves when the skinny, popular girl from high school gets fat.  A girl that read Fifty Shades of Gray (the trilogy) in less than a week.  A girl that hasn’t read that much since the 80’s.  A girl that cries while watching Biggest Loser.  A girl that hates admitting when she cries.  A girl that once got drunk and went down a slip n slide in her t-shirt and underwear in front of work colleagues and her new boyfriend.  A girl that married that new boyfriend 5 months later.  A girl that learned a long time ago that if you laugh loud enough at yourself, you can’t hear anyone else laughing at you.   A girl that sings rap songs in an opera voice.   A girl that has a flat stomach…..when lying on her back.   A girl that WILL bring sexy back.  A girl that hopes she can inspire.  A girl that now despises the word “girl” because she has used it one bajillion times (yes, it’s a number).  A girl that lost 4.8 pounds this week. 

THAT’S RIGHT MUTHA FUGGGGERS!  Fluffy lost 4.8  effing pounds!!!!  After I got done doing a pelvic thrust and a fist pump, I did this…

“The Bytch” aka scale is my new best friend.  I ‘m seriously thinking about strapping her in the Baby Bjorn and taking her ass to the mall to show her off!!!!  In case you need a visual of that….

I am still in shock that I had such an awesome first week and it wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it would be.  I don’t want to say “I watched what I ate”.  I hate that saying.  I don’t know about you but I watch every morsel of food before it goes in my mouth, it doesn’t matter if it’s an apple or a slice  an entire apple pie.  This saying is just plain stupid.  Anyways, I was much more aware of what I was eating and actually measured out my foods to ensure I was eating proper portions. 

This blog has been such motivation for me because it’s what holds me accountable.  I went to a birthday party this past weekend and turned down cake.  Who does that?!?!?!?! Everyone knows that the best cakes are 1. Birthday cake and 2.  Wedding cake.  Knowing that I could have the satisfaction of telling you that I turned it down made it worth saying NO. 

That’s right bytches, Fluffy is 4.8 pounds closer to being a Hommy! (Hot Mommy). 

I’m just a girl and this is my story,

Fluffy in Frisco

First Day of the Rest of My Life Bytches

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.  I’m gonna do this!  My days of eating Sonic Cheese Sticks and French fries are over….well for a little while anyways.  (I had cheese sticks yesterday so I got my fix for a little bit).  I’m a firm believer that you should never say you “just ate your last mouthful of fried goodness” as this is just not realistic.  Unless you’re a bodybuilder or a supermodel in which case you probably haven’t eaten either since the 80’s so you just don’t know what you’re missing. 

So today is weigh in day.  Xanax…check.  I pulled out the ol’ scale and then spent a few minutes cleaning off the very thick layer of dust.  Before stepping on, I looked to the Heavens and said “go easy on me”.  I held my breath and stepped on.  Those few seconds it takes to calculate your weight seem like an eternity.   “You bytch!”  I quickly stepped off the scale to allow “the bytch” a moment to collect herself then slowly stepped back on.  I sucked in hoping this would help.  Nope, there it was….a number.  Now, if I were ballsy this is where I would tell you how much I weigh.  But as luck would have it, my balls haven’t dropped yet.   Maybe someday.  Baby steps. 

Instead of telling you how much I weigh, I decided I would show you.  These will count as my “before” pictures.  I know many people do a before picture in workout pants and a sports bra.  I hate those people.  Mainly because their before pictures look much better than I expect my “after” pictures to look. 

 So, I decided to take my picture in my goal outfit.  These jeans are Jessica Simpson Princy jeans.  They were my all time favorite and I WILL fit back in to them but today there aren’t enough Denim Dips in the world to help me fit in to them.  You can read about denim dips HERE.  As you will notice they currently come just over my knees.  This is beyond depressing and I am seriously considering cutting them in the middle and just using them as denim legwarmers.  Then, techinically,  I do a fit in to my skinny jeans.  Hair flip!

Here’s my goal shirt.  Disclaimer: I left on the ol' over the shoulder boulder holder just to add an extra helping of class.  I bought this recently on a Facebook auction (we’ll talk about that obsession another week).  I think it’s cute and sassy and I can’t wait to wear it.  This shirt is a medium and I was actually able to get it on which was VERY exciting.  Now, if you listen closely you can actually hear the seams screaming for dear life.  This gorgeous, tiny top is cutting so deeply into my armpit that if I left it on long enough,  I’m pretty certain that it would amputate my arm.  I’m right handed so I guess I don’t necessarily NEED my left arm but I will say I’ve grown quite attached to it over the years. 

I tend to hold most of my weight in this region (circling hands over hips and thighs) so I think I’ll fit into the shirt lonnnng before the jeans but I WILL wear those jeans again (dammit!)…and not as legwarmers. 

So there you have it, Fluffy in all her Fluffy-iness.  Trust me when I say it was gut wrenching to add these photos for the world to see.  And by “world”, I mean my 4 readers.  Either way, I’m doing this.  I’m holding myself to this.  I WILL be a skinny mom and I WILL teach my 3 month old daughter, Fluffette, about healthy eating habits to save her from a life full of ridicule and self doubt.  She will inherit my good qualities such as my wit, charm and…pretty face and not the bad eating habits which include a love for food that can sometimes consume every waking moment.  Get on this train Fluffette, it’s gonna be a long ride. 

In random news, Fluffette rolled over for the first time yesterday.  She’s pretty much a baby genius and will be starting Harvard in the Spring.

Puttin' it out there,
Fluffy in Frisco