The F Word

I'm sure most of you thought this would be an entire post about "eff you see kay".  Well....get a hold of yourselves.  Who the hell writes an entire post about "fruck"?  Um....nobody.  You should really have higher standards for what you read.  SMH (mom, that means 'shaking my head')

Just kidding...I would totally write an entire post about that word....just not today.  Today, I'm talking about Failure and more specifically the fear of failure.  As I've said multiple times along this journey, I am truly awful at not finishing things I start.  Why?  Because I'm scared shytless of failing.  Like...more scared than Theresa Guidice that she'll spend the next 10 years in an orange jumper because orange and bronze don't look that good together.  (mom, Theresa is a character on Real Housewives of Atlanta)

A famous person once said,

"It is better to have not tried and not failed, than to try and realize you suck really bad"

                                                                                                                        -Fluffy Anonymous

This fear has been very present in the last 12 months while I struggled, succeeded, got knocked down and stood back up again.  Every.single.day I struggle.  Every.single.day I survive.  For me, weight loss is a complete and utter mind eff.  My inner demons are extremely strong when it comes to food.  I'm OBSESSED with it.  I don't like wasting it.  Throwing food in the trash full on gives me a case of the "twitchy neck".

This is my only issue.  I place way too much importance on my relationship with food.  I realize it and I will continue to work on it.  Girl Scout's honor.

I haven't shared any of my measurements or pictures of my not at all sexy body recently because...well....I suck.  That stops today.  (this is where Mr. Fluff would make some comment about how I 'stopped sucking a long time ago'.  Then he would laugh thinking he was finally funnier than me.  No such luck, Mr. Fluff....NO.SUCH.LUCK)

Thanks to Holly, I have like one bajillion new followers this week so you'll need to go check out Watch For Dropping Balls  to get a little bit of my backfat story.

We'll all wait.

Done?  Geez...you read slow.

Back?  Fy-nuh-leeeeeeeee.

Ok, time for measurements and pictures.   I didn't take my first set of measurements until September 5, 2012.  On the day Fluffette was born, May 29 2012, I weighed in at 236 pounds.

 September 2012
Weight: 208.2
Chest:  41
Arms:  14
Waist:   39.25
Thigh:  28.5
Calf:  17.75

July 31, 2013
Weight: 165.2
Chest:  35 inches
Arm: 11.5 inches
Waist:  31 inches
Thigh:  24.25 inches
Calf:  15.75 inches

No, those are not a second set of boobies.  That is my fat roll.  August 2012.  12 weeks post blown out vag.  

Squatting "Before"  September 2012

Pink Tank July 2013

Super proud of how my shoulders and back are coming along.  Still need a plastic surgeon to take care of that skin on my arms (for free)

Whoaaaaa......did you know that sometimes your thighs can have a gap in between them??!?!?!??!?  WHO KNEW!

Whenever my inner demons start to get the better of me, I like to compare my fat self to my less fat self.  I can definitely see progress and that's all I need to motivate me to..you know....NOT FAIL.

Wherever you are in your weightloss quest, please take pictures of yourself.  They may make you projectile vomit all over yourself and your neighbor but someday, when you're feeling like a big pile of fat, sweaty whale blubber, you can look back at those pictures and feel proud.

I'm 15(ish) pounds away from my goal weight so it's time to rally, bytches.  I WILL DO THIS.

I REFUSE TO SINK.

Speaking of other things that I hope I don't fail at.......

Dumpster Darlins is here Bytches!!!!  I'm beyond scared that I will be an absolute failure but I'm goin for it dammit!

I've started a Facebook page that will truly suck because I'm at like a 1st grade level in social media so bare with me.

https://www.facebook.com/DumpsterDarlinsDesigns

A few things:
- all items posted on the page are available for sale OR rent.  If you have a wedding, photo shoot, baby shower or birthday party do we have the props for you!!  (insert flailing arm inflatable guy)
- My first show will be at The ORLY Market in Mckinney, TX on August 16th & 17th
- Exciting things are coming soon and will be available to ship all over the country!

So...you know....go like my page...or don't....I mean...I don't even really care...but seriously GO LIKE MY PAGE.

How can you say no to this face??

Just say no-yo to fro-yo

Is that a baby in your belly....or are you just happy to see me?

Last Monday started like every other Monday.  I woke up being awesome and continued the trend for most of the day.  Then, while cooking dinner, I started feeling weak.  I was extremely tired all of a sudden and ached all over.  I ended up going to bed at like 7:30.  When Mr. Fluff came to bed he decided to take my temperature rectally.  It read 101.5.  He went in to flip out mode and said that if it went even the slightest bit higher he was taking me to the ER.  Then he promptly got on Google to put in my symptoms.

 

“Do you have any bug bites?”

“Is your stomach upset?”

“No, I’m fine. “

He then jokingly said, “What if you’re pregnant”.

I couldn’t believe he would say something so mean to me!  The truth is that I thought the exact same thing and it freaked me the eff out. 

After a little more research, it was determined that I did NOT have West Nile Virus so he was able to roll over and go to sleep.  Phew!  Glad HE felt better. 

Wednesday, I still felt out of whack but decided to take one for the team and go to a Widespread Panic concert.  I’m assuming if you’ve never heard of this band, then you also prolly don’t own a hacky sack?  Weird.  I’d never heard of them before meeting Mr. Fluff but they are one of his all time favorite bands.  He used to follow them around and camp out to watch concerts.  It’s a whole different vibe now.  All the fans that used to show up on their bikes or in a Volkswagen Bus are now arriving in their Range Rovers and Audi’s.  Times have changed.  (I tried really hard to get a picture of Mr. Fluff dancing aka chicken wings.)

The rest of my week was fairly uneventful.  Swim classes for V, painting furniture for my new biz-nass and schoolin some bytches in Hip Hop Hustle class.  And by “schoolin some bytches” I mean “sloppin sweat all over them while tryin to do the  ‘showgirl…then down low’.   I know I shouldn’t make fun of anyone in the class but I WILL say that I, apparently, did NOT get the memo that the class on Friday was actually tryouts for backup dancers for The Pussycat Dolls.  So to you, Mrs. Big Loopy Curled Hair and Perfect Make-up and Not an Ounce of Sweat Girl……I HOPE YOU GOT THE GIG!!! 

End Rant.  I’m just jealous I don’t look that cute on any given day, much less when I’m working out. 

Friday night came and I decided I needed to put on my big girl panties for a local meet up.  Holly from Where We Can Live Like Jack and Sally, Skinny Meg, Mama Laughlin and Becka from KikiLaRue would all be there.  I called Mr. Fluff at 4:30pm and told him I’d be attending a Mama Laughlin event that evening to allow him some father/daughter bonding time.  I pretty much heard him roll his eyes over the phone.  He thinks I’m full on crazy.  He apparently didn’t read my post about meeting ML and us becoming immediate friends.  Hair Flip.   ‘Holla at me Holly’ was coming to Dallas all the way from St. Louis and George Dammit,  I wanted to meet her! 

I swear it was like getting ready for a date.  I had ZERO clue what the hell I should wear to something like this.  I mean…what, exactly, does one wear to an event that she will meet a couple of her blog crushes?  My wedding dress?  A cocktail dress?  Yoga pants and a sports bra?  So I went with something that will never go out of style….

I kid, I kid.  Once I looked in the mirror and felt that I looked “cute..but not so cute that you look like you’re trying too hard”, I popped a Xanax and headed to Bowl 300 in Addison.  I sat in my car for a few minutes and reminded myself that I am a complete and utter nutbag for going but the restraining order against me would most likely clear in the next few days so this may be my last chance to meet Holly and SkinnyMeg so I may as well take it!  (restraining orders are nothing to joke about so …you know…don’t stalk people for real)

I walked in and spotted Holly in her Neon pink shirt so I headed over chanting “HEY…I’M A CRAZY BYTCH BUT I BLOG SO MEDIOCRE  I’M ALL OVER THIS” in my head.   Yes, I changed up the words.   I’m super creative like that. 

Holly turned around and said, “FLUFFY!!!  I have to take a picture with you, my husband thinks you’re sooo funny and skinny”.

Um…I’m sorry…what?!?!!?!  I was here to meet HER yet she was so excited to meet ME. 

 

That was prolly one of the best moments of my adult life but I drink a lot so I have very few memories of my adult life.  That really set the tone for the rest of the night.  It was truly soooo much fun!  These girls, bloggers and other blogworld fans, are so normal!  They are so down to earth and effing hilarious.  I’ve never met most of these people before yet everyone was so nice and it felt like we’d all hung out before.  HUGE sigh of relief.

 

The people that know me in real life will not be surprised to know that I did a high kick after each strike or spare that I got, which lead to a High Kick contest in the middle of the bowling alley.  Double Hair Flip. It’s just not a fun night until you get complete strangers to do high kicks….I’m just sayin’.  They don’t even know how close I was to gettin’ them all to play Charades. 

As we all left, I stayed and talked to Brandi (Mama L) for a while.  I started to feel a little light headed so I played it as cool as I could and finally abruptly said “It’s past my bedtime, goodnight”.    I’m hoping she was buzzed and didn’t notice but I felt like I could pass out at any moment. 

Pretty much ever since then, I’ve had it in the back of my mind that I may be prego.  I had that same lightheaded feeling right before I found out I was knocked up with Fluffette.  Babies are awesome….and I think YOU should keep having them but I’m just not there yet.  I mean….Fluffette is way too cute.   How could I ever top this?????

Well, today, I decided to go buy a damn test and get it out of my head.  Those two minutes are the longest two minutes of anyone’s life.  Regardless of the outcome you’re hoping for, it seems like YEARS before you know the results. 

I am very proud to report that there will not be another Fluff Family baby any time soon.  Thank you sweet baby Jesus.

Super Sperm: 0   IUD: 1

Out With The Old, In With The New.....Memories

Remember when hot summer days used to be filled with patio drinking and pool parties?  When you could get shyt-faced by 2pm but it was ok because you could just pass out on a pool float?

Yeah, those days are over.

Now, you have a one year old daughter that tries to walk right in to the pool the SECOND she hears you pop a top on a beer. She tries to climb the stairs when you just want to set her down so you can eat some delicious tamales and fajitas.  Then she tries to use the wooden toy to break a window in your friends mother in law's house.

Now, you try to put her down in the upstairs bedroom of a pool party because only then can you truly enjoy your adult beverage and do your best to catch a small buzz.  At that moment you catch a glimpse of your old life when your friend uses the words "fishing and anal" in the same sentence.  You belly laugh and drink more beer.  Ah yes....the good ol' days.

I'm not one of those cool moms that can drink while chasing a small child.  I'm pretty much a lightweight and just don't trust my own judgment when I've been drinking.  "yes, Fluffette, you sure can play with that machete....here's some scissors too...now go run around the backyard".

I know....I know....I sound like an ungrateful mother.  Sometimes I probably am.  That's life.  I think most moms, at some point, miss a bit of their old carefree life.  BUT, those old memories slowly but surely get replaced by new memories....

Fluffette's First Carousel Ride with her Mia

"Can I go again?"

"Seriously....give me a damn token"

A girl and her puffs

Fluffette's First Firework Show

Her A.D.D. sunk in shortly after this picture

Just chillin with all the balls from the ball pit.  Epic fail.  #ipromiseshe'snottryingtogagherself

First time at the splash park.  We were NOT prepared so played with our clothes on. #KeepinItKlassy  

I'm pretty sure she's sitting on the jet.  They learn young these days....YOUNG I tell ya!

And, I promise you this....the smile on Fluffette's face for each and every First is far better than ANY cherry vodka sour I've ever tasted except for the ones I had at Martini Park that ONE time I had to be carried out.

~~~~~~~~~
Dumpster Darlins Designs is in FULL effect!  Don't worry, I'll beg force you to like my facebook page once I get it set up.  I did a little dumpster divin this week.  DOLLA MAKES ME HOLLA!!

You can't beat free folks....you CAN'T.BEAT.FREE!

Don't worry....I'm up to date on all my shots.  (A Yogi....are you done vomitting and covering yourself in hand sanitizer yet?  hehe)

I'm only one bajillion dollars away from my ultimate goal of earning......one bajillion dollars.  #dreambig

It's Not All Rainbows and Farting Unicorns

I've been a tad on the cranky side the past week.  Yes...I said a TAD, Mr. Fluff.  Just play along and nobody gets hurt.

I have zero patience and pretty much everyone and everything annoys the shyt out of me.

"Why are you breathing so loud?"
"Why are you breathing that way?"
"WHY....ARE....YOU....BREATHING?!?!?!?!"

I won't waste a whole post telling you how proud I am that I let the lady at Wal-Mart live another day even though she put my Windex in with my milk.  Am I the only person that doesn't think you should put chemicals in with food?  Oh, you're too scared to answer because I'm crazy.  Valid fear.

I also won't tell you that I decided against listing Fluffette on Craigslist when she had a full on meltdown when I took my wallet from her to pay the nice lady at Wal-Mart for our groceries.  I quickly put her azz in her carseat and thanked sweet baby Jesus when she immediately fell asleep.  Then I looked up the nearest Sonic and ate all five of those damn cheesesticks in the parking lot...in pure silence....and loved every minute of it.

If anyone says, "oh, you must be on your period".  I will lose my shyt....I mean...can't a girl just be grumpy?  Why's it always gotta be about an effing period that I should be getting any day now.

So in the peak of my crankiness, I decided to try something new....PIYO.  It's a class that combines Pilates and Yoga.  Two things I'm not very familiar with and the last time I took a yoga class, I almost got kicked out because someone tooted and I REALLY struggled to pull myself together.

I'm MUCH more mature now  *giggles* so I knew I could handle anything that came my way.

I walked in to a room FULL of the skinniest people in America and immediately thought, "I bet all these a-holes can touch their toes".  *dramatically shakes head

I somehow managed to set up shop behind the ballerina and a dude.  The Ballerina could not only reach her toes but she could also touch her chest to the floor whilst touching the toes of the person in front of her.  SHOWOFF.  The Dude was wearing lose fitting shorts and I just knew I'd be a bobbin' and a weavin' through class so I didn't get a mushroom tattoo.  (if you don't know what a mushroom tattoo is, please don't ask...and don't look it up.  Keep your innocence)

Over the next hour I remained at least two beats behind the rest of the class.  I didn't know any of the names of moves...nor the actual moves so I had to watch everyone to figure out what I was supposed to be doing.

I sweat my azz off and realized that even though I've come so far with my fitness level, I still have sooo far to go.  PiYo definitely worked muscles I didn't even know I had.

I left the class hating ballerinas and men in loose fitting shorts....but loving PIYO.  I stepped out of my comfort zone and even though I looked like a complete tool during the whole class, I actually loved it and look forward to adding it to my weekly fitness routine.

In random news, I tried a new recipe that I wanted to share with you.  (Thank you Kate). I don't LOVE blueberries so next time I think I'll try strawberries instead.  Fluffette, however, loved every bite of it and had it for breakfast three days in a row.  

Baked Oatmeal with Blueberries and Oatmeal (link and photo from skinnytaste.com)

In even more random random news, Google Reader has gone away so you will now need to follow me on Bloglovin.  I've tried for the past week to add a button to the sidebar of my blog and canNOT figure it out.  I've decided to try again once my hormones are a little less out of whack.  So anywhodilly, please go to Bloglovin.com, search for Fluffy in Frisco then follow that shyt.  Please and Thank you!  Although...the people that need to complete this task can't even see this post since I'm a week late so this entire paragraph is pretty pointless. meh.

Happy Fourth of July!  Stay safe and limit yourself to one keg stand.

FLUFFmerican Idol

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Several months ago, I signed up for the Run or Dye Color run in Dallas, TX.  I remember seeing all the pictures on Facebook last year and it looked like so much fun so when a friend asked for people to join her team, I was all in.   I did absolutely nothing to prepare for this race, well….other than eating a well balanced diet and going to bed early the night before the race.

And by “eating a well balanced diet and going to bed early” I mean “drinking way too much and getting minimal sleep.”

When I woke up at whatthefluff:30, I really really really didn’t want to drive all the way to Dallas to get my sweaty azz handed to me on a sweaty platter.  But…I got up anyways.  I made myself a large cup of coffee and headed off to my friends house to meet up with the rest of the crew.  On our way to the race, we stopped for coffee so I proceeded to buy another large coffee.  Then, once we got close to the race, I drank my spark.  Seemed like a good idea at the time. 

Once we got there, I was ready to WORK.  I needed to pee but the lines were too long so I just held it.  I knew I’d prolly finish the race in record time, you know, with all the training I did.  As we totally cut in front of a thousand people at the starting line, we got tricked in to thinking we were starting no less than ten times.  It was a true beating and took FOREVER. 

We all started the race running.  I lasted approximately 17.2 seconds before I started walking.  I just said eff this shyt.  I’m walking it.  The race was Run OR Dye.  I was already dying so there really wasn’t any need to run.  I was tired.  I was hungry and I was hot.  Every time I tried to run, I swore a little pee was dripping down my leg.  I had the ol’ kegel fully contracted to hold it in, but as any moms know, once you’ve had kids, you’re ability to hold in pee is greatly affected.  #blownoutvagproblems

About midway through the race, I realized a few things:

1.        I managed to grab a sports bra that I haven’t worn since I was 13.  It had zero support and was a little big so my lady lumps were giving a ‘low five’ to my belly button

2.       I forgot to put on deodorant so every time I moved my arms, a little bit of my armpit skin ripped off; and

3.       The two coffees and spark have fully set in and now I have the effing shakes. 

As I walked alone, I became more and more aware of my underboob sweat, my sticky pits and my now fully shaking hands.  I was in a bit of a blur as I stared at the people around me, sizing up the poor patrons that would be carrying me out of here when I pass out. 

Then, out of nowhere, there she was.  Giant Bic Band, giant sunglasses and giant boobs.  I’m pretty sure that’s Mama effing Laughlin.  I talked about Mama Laughlin in my very first post almost a year ago, HERE. 

I kept walking and decided that I was in no condition to meet her.  In fact, I’ve never WANTED to meet her.  We all get this idea of how a person is based on what we see on tv, or in their blog.  It’s like meeting Ryan Gosling.  In my mind, he’s a sensual lover, likes to snuggle and listens to every word I say.  But what if I met him and not only was he a complete tool but he also had a tiny dingus?!?!!?  Some things are just better left alone. 

That’s how I felt about meeting Mama..err Brandi.  I have this idea of how she is based on the words she writes on a blog.  What if I meet her and she’s a snobby slut?  I mean…then I’d have to cut a bytch.

 

Yes, I just compared her to Ryan Gosling, the sensual lover.  That’s beyond creepy but we’ll just skip past that. 

As I walked past her, I decided that I would regret it if I didn’t at least say hi.  So, I turned and said, “um….are you Brandi”.  She smiled and said “yes I am”.

 

Oh…good…she doesn't seem like a snobby slut. 

“Hi, I’m one of your stalkers”. 

Oh….good….I seem.....akward. 

I walked with her and a couple of other girls for a few minutes.  I prayed that they didn’t realize that my eyes were nearly swollen shut because of the Miller Light sweat pouring in to them and that I was shaking like I just came off a four day cocaine high.  (I’ve never been on a four day cocaine high so I really don’t know if that causes the shakes but all the people on Cops seem to have the shakes so I assume that’s par for the course)

I took the opportunity to tell Brandi what a major motivating force she’s been for me and that I owe my 72 pound weight loss to her.  She gave me a high five and said, “great job!”  I also told her that I started blogging and she asked me to email her my blog info and she’d check it out.  I’m sure she was kidding but the jokes on her because I sure did send it to her the second I got home.  I’m lame like that. 

One girl asked if I was on IG.  Since I’m super cool, I wondered if that was a street name for some new drug, then realized that she meant Instagram.  I really don’t remember what I said, but I do remember that Brandi asked for my IG ID.  As I rattled it off to her, I was certain she was typing “stupid shaky bytch smells” in to her phone. 

Up ahead, I saw my crew in line at the port o potty so I told Brandi it was great to meet her and asked if she’d take a picture with me.  One of my friends walked up and said, "I know...you want a picture".  I like that everyone knows about my obsession with ML.  

What?  That’s totally what I looked like that day.  Perfect makeup and hair in Texas heat?  Yes and Yes. I've also taken the time to show you where my boobs SHOULD be.  You're welcome.  Standing next to Brandi, my chest looks like that of a 15 year old boy.  Boob job in my future so start saving up, Mr. Fluff.

We finished the race and somehow managed to get very minimal color on us.  In fact, the most color I got was on my feet.  I was wearing two pair of socks and shoes so how the hell this happened is beyond me.  Everyone at the finish line looked like a Purple People Eater so I assume they got a hell of a deal on the purple shyt.  We were glad the race was over and decided that doing a 5k in June...in Texas is just cray. 

I will say that I’m SO glad I got my azz out of bed and went because I got to meet my FLUFFmerican Idol.  Not only did she start following me on Instagram (hair flip) but she also started following my blog (double hair flip).  I don't know about you but I think that pretty much makes us besties.  I've already ordered our matching necklaces...

I can only hope that I will someday give a lucky reader a lady boner from meeting me.  A girl can dream.    

Knuckle bumps for Mama! You rock my fat off.  

A Beautiful Mind

I’m sure you all think that blogging is super easy.  That I just sit down in front of the computer and before the cursor begins to blink, I just fill the page with words that are so moving, funny and inspirational that you are sure to fall to your knees and thank the good Lord above that you found this blog because without it, you’re life just wouldn’t be complete.   (just pretend that’s how this blog makes you feel…please and thank you).

I usually start thinking about my blog topic on the weekends.  As I’m driving around or in the shower (you’re totes thinking about me being in the shower now aren’t you…pervert), I write out a blog post for the week in my head.  It ALWAYS makes me laugh out loud…at myself…because, let’s face it, I’m pretty damn funny.  #thatsmystoryandi’mstickingtoit

Then there are weeks, like this week, that I just don’t have diddly squat to say.  No cool topic, no funny story about picking my nose in public or ripping a pair of jeans in the middle of the mall.  I gotz nuttin’. 

So when this happens, I just pick something completely random to talk about.  I know, I know….I’m random EVERY DAMN WEEK.   But that’s why you keep coming back for more…now isn't it, Stalker Sally from Hutto.  (Here’s your shout out, you also make deee-licious sour cream enchiladas)

I decided to share with you a little bit behind my thought process.  I've always claimed to be bat shyt crazy, and now you will fo sho believe me and quite possibly try to commit me to an insane asylum.  

 

On a recent trip in my car, I started to think about what I want to be when I grow up.  I began to daydream about my blog and where it COULD take me.  The bajillions of dollars I could make.  All the opportunities that would present themselves because of this blog.  All the times I would be asked to be on Ellen DeGeneres’ and Bethenny Frankel’s talk shows. 

I would then be asked to write an inspirational book, which I would name “Follow Your Dreams and Blame Your Farts on The Dog.  A Woman’s Guide to Being Awesome”  Yes it’s a long title and I would need to use small font to get it all on the cover but we all know that any book with ‘fart’ in the title is sure to be on the New York Times Best Seller list!  Hair Flip. 

After I was done daydreaming about my book tour, the interviews on Good Morning America and being on the New York Times Best Seller list three years in a row, I began to think about photo shoots for my book.  What would I wear? How would I pose?  Would I love my body enough to pose in a bikini for the picture on the inside cover with the caption, “This body isn’t perfect, but it’s mine”?

That somehow leads me to think about working out and all the cute gear that’s available these days.  I then start thinking about starting my own spandex pants line, “Fluffy is the New Skinny”.  I know we’ve all seen the pants that have shyt written on the bootay like, “Juicy” or “Pink” or “Love”.  I decide that Ima keep it real and put stuff like:

“It’s ok to stare, I would too if I were behind me”  (small font, of course)

“I worked hard for this jiggle”

“Baby got back”

 “Dat Azz”

"My hips totally lied"

OR......

Then my car ride is over so I gently slide back in to reality.  I unload the groceries with the car still running with Fluffette asleep in her car seat and pray that nobody steals my car and my baby.  Then I had to put away groceries, start dinner, change out the laundry, feed Fluffette, let the dogs out (who..who, who who) and make sure Fluffette doesn’t try to crawl in to the tub, throw yogurt in the toilet, smash her own finger in the trash can or gnaw on a cascade packet (again). 

Hours later, when Fluffette has gone down for the night and I finally have time to teedle (pee pee) on my own, I find myself drift off again in to my daydream…..”hmmmmm, I could also make a plus size  line of spandex to represent my life a year ago”.  Fluffy girls need love too!  Just because I was (still am) fluffy, doesn’t mean I don’t have a good sense of humor!  So this line of spandex would include things like:

“Quit staring at my fat ass and go get me a cheeseburger”

“Who needs a milkshake when your yard is this big”

“Caution: objects may fly about the cabin during flight”

and for the single ladies:

“It’s hot and I’m about to drop it”

“Hi Sexy, I’m about to bring you back….to my apartment”

These would all be in 24 point font because skinny or fat, I have PLENTY of real estate on the ol’ arse to fit these quotes. 

Once I’m done laughing at my new business idea, I step out of the ‘little nuns room’ and stand there in front of the mirror in my wife beater tank top…….and I flex.  Multiple ways and multiple angles.

Just realized that I look like One Eyed Willie.  Disregard the absence of one of my eyes.  #cuh-reepy #needtogetmyglassesadjusted #yesIthinksmokingapipeisdouchey

Sometimes, I even dance whilst flexing.  Then I break in to song and do a full on routine from my Hip Hop Hustle class then check my phone to see if Ryan Seacrest has called to offer me my own reality show.  “Not yet.  Damn.  I hope he has the right number for me”

Then I realize what a huge douche bag I am so I go sit on the couch and think about food. 

***Note:  this story is based on actual events 

As a side note, I'd like to welcome my first sponsor to the page!!!  Welcome Kate!  Kate has been on her "get my body back after baby" journey for the past year or so and she looks absolutely amazing!  So so so proud of you lady.  Kate and I share a love for Advocare as it has helped us both get that much closer to our ultimate goals of being hot arse moms.  If you are ever interested in the Herbal Cleanse, Catalyst, Spark (my personal faves) or any other product, just click on the Advocare symbol on the side bar and Kate will take great care of you!

This Wagon is Broken

Earlier this week I had it in my mind that my post today would be all about the negatives.  Me falling off the 'wagon'.  How I ate a little crap here and a little crap there and how that can very quickly turn in to a slippery slide back to Chunky Town.  The post would be filled with my wit and charm and you would fall in love with me all over again.

Then I decided that the ol' wagon can suck it!  I will not dwell on the negatives.  Even though most of you can relate to me eating chips and queso or sonic cheesesticks, I don't want that to be our common ground.  I don't want you to be all, "I LOVE this girl because she lets her inner fat girl win sometimes!!"

Nope, not TODAY.  Today I want you to be all, "This girl has busted her ass over the past year and even though she's still far from perfect, she said she would make the ultimate change and George Dammit, she did!! AND I WILL TOO!!!!"

TODAY, I am working out 3 times a week.
TODAY, I will make better food choices.
TODAY, there is no food that tastes as good as being skinny feels except sour cream enchiladas and sonic cheesesticks.

Yesterday is gone.  There's nothing you can do to change it.  Stop waiting for 'tomorrow' to make the change.

TODAY IS THE NEW TOMORROW!! 

You are worth it.  Go put on your big girl panties and make the change you want in your life.  Excuses will get you nowhere.....but to the fridge.  (This message is really to me.  I have to suck it up.  Quit bytching and make shyt happen!)

What girl has lost over 72 pounds in the past year?
What girl has lost over 24 inches in the past 9 months?
What girl can wear a size 8 in jeans and even have a little room in the waist? (a year ago she was in a size 18)
What girl can wear a size medium shirt?  (a year ago she was in an XL or XXL)
What girl now owns a pair of size 6 mis-sized pants that actually fit?
What girl is 13.4 pounds away from her goal weight of 150?
What girl is going to stop focusing on the negatives and start celebrating the road that she paved for herself?
What girl now has something called 'collar bones'?
What girl has said her final goodbyes to her former fat self....

What girl creepily stood over her daughter in her bathtub to take a picture for today's post?

THIS GIRL!!!  

And I am DAMN proud of how far I've come this past year.  

You can call me conceited.  You can call me a dreamer.  You can call me awesome and you can call me Fluffy.

But you canNOT call me fat.  *does four snaps in a Z formation*


**crowd cheers...starts doing the wave...and wipes the tears from their eyes**

And just like that, there was world peace.

The End.