I Put My Blue Jeans On

"I put my blue jeans on, I put my old blue jeans on." --Keith Urban

I have a pair of jeans that I love.  They're the kind of jeans you always hope you'll find when you go jean shopping. They fit my curves perfectly, they are the right length to wear with any height heel I want, and the color works with dark and light outfits.

There is only one major flaw with these jeans.  They're too small.  They haven't fit me in years to be honest. When I tried them on in November I couldn't pull them up past my hips.  Last month's try-on was a small victory.  I got them on, albeit with difficulty, and they buttoned!

Today was my month 3 try-on and they're still not wearable, BUT they looked better than last month.  I can see my belly-button this month!  That means the muffin-top has gotten smaller.

I'm going to post a picture every month until I can rock these jeans.  I want to be able to wear them well and then have to move on to a new goal pair.  Below I have posted a picture of my month 3 try-on as well as some other achievements I'm celebrating this month.

Don't scroll down if you're squeamish...

Goal Jeans- Month 3

Small victories 

...are adding up and are very motivational for me. 

In month number two I lost 1.75 inches off my hips, I retired 

three pairs pants, and a favorite tank top.  

Oh, and I've lost lost 7.5 lbs.  

Total weight loss since April 2012 is 32 lbs.!  

Praise the Lord!

"Hey, Fit Girl!"

Today I read a blog post that was very emotional for me.  It was called "Hey, Fat Girl."  By the title you'd think the author was processing a terrible experience, but you'd be wrong.

I can't remember how many times I was called mean names, moo'd at, had unflattering songs made up about me and my weight, or even how many times I said these same things to myself.  In fact, when I read that blog title my first thought was, "Yeah, I can relate."

After reading "Hey, Fat Girl", I dedicate this reposting to my family.  They have come along beside me these last couple of months and have been voices of encouragement and support that drown out the instant replay of negativity in my head.

Re-posted from  http://flintland.blogspot.com/2012/05/hey-fat-girl.html 

Yes, you. The one feigning to not see me when we cross paths on the running track. The one not even wearing sports gear, breathing heavy. You’re slow, you breathe hard and your efforts at moving forward make you cringe.

You cling shyly to the furthest corridor, sometimes making larger loops on the gravel ring by the track just so you’re not on it. You sweat so much that your hair is all wet. You rarely stay for more than 20 minutes at a time, and you look exhausted when you leave to go back home.  You never talk to anyone. I’ve got something I’d like to say to you.

You are awesome.

If you’d look me in the eye only for an instant, you would notice the reverence and respect I have for you. The adventure you have started is tremendous; it leads to a better health, to renewed confidence and to a brand new kind of freedom. The gifts you will receive from running will far exceed the gigantic effort it takes you to show up here, to face your fears and to bravely set yourself in motion, in front of others.

You have already begun your transformation. You no longer accept this physical state of numbness and passivity. You have taken a difficult decision, but one that holds so much promise. Every hard breath you take is actually a tad easier than the one before, and every step is ever so slightly lighter. Each push forward leaves the former person you were in your wake, creating room for an improved version, one that is stronger, healthier and forward-looking, one who knows that anything is possible.

You’re a hero to me. And, if you’d take off the blaring headphones and put your head up for more than a second or two, you would notice that the other runners you cross, the ones that probably make you feel so inadequate, stare in awe at your determination. They, of all people, know best where you are coming from. They heard the resolutions of so many others, who vowed to pick up running and improve their health, “starting next week”. Yet, it is YOU who runs alongside, who digs from deep inside to find the strength to come here, and to come back again.

You are a runner, and no one can take that away from you. You are relentlessly moving forward. You are stronger than even you think, and you are about to be amazed by what you can do. One day, very soon, maybe tomorrow, you’ll step outside and marvel at your capabilities. You will not believe your own body, you will realize that you can do this. And a new horizon will open up for you. You are a true inspiration.

First Walk/Jog on the Road- Jan. 18, 2013

I don't aspire to be a anyone's inspiration.  I repost this to say "thank-you" to my family.  If "Fat Girl" had the support of my family, she'd have looked the other runners in the eye on the way to the 5k finish line.

P.S. I changed the title on purpose!

God With a Little "g"

It has been a long time since I've updated my blog. For the fist time in many, many months- I feel like there is hoe for me. I met with my weight loss doctor this week and she was pleased with my 10 pound weight loss during my first month under her care.

How I ended up under her care is another story.  I originally came to the clinic for the purpose of having bariatric surgery. On my first appointment with Dr. White she said that my insurance company won't cover the surgery unless I do a six-month weight loss program monitored by a doctor. After 6 months if my BMI falls below 40 I probably won't be eligible for surgery.. did I mention that my BMI was 41.3? Yeah, basically I won't be having surgery.

I'm sure that God is setting me up for success in this journey. The medical support I'm receiving is exactly what I need.  The support I have from my family & Brett is tremendous. And l


Last week Bethany Morris told me about a book called Made To Crave. The concepts in the book are EXACTLY what I need to hear!

In the service this morning Pastor Jeff said, "The object of our love is the thing we are looking to for joy."  We expect the object of our love to supply joy for us.  I love cooking and eating.  They have brought me a lot of joy. The problem is that I'm realizing that food has been my god.

Oh, what a shameful thing write.  I've been looking to the work of my hands (and others) to supply the peace, happiness, and stability that I long for in my life.  Father, forgive me.

More than losing weight, I need to conquer my food addiction and keep it in submission to God. This is my prayer. I need a miracle.

Definition of a Good Day

Speaking of "waiting for wonderful" I met my wonderful little nephew Robert Wayne Carpenter IV today.  He's such a cuddly, alert little boy!  It's been a wonderful day with family and friends.  I wish Brett didn't have to work so he could be sharing it with me.

Why not?!

Why not?!  That was the question the 20-something year old cashier at Taco Bell asked me on Saturday.  I took Kayla, Mikey, Olivia and Sam's niece Jacqueline to Anderson & Girls and then to Taco Bell for lunch.  As we were standing in line to order all 4 hooligans were swinging on the bar that defines the ordering area.  I turned to them, after having already asked a couple of them individually to stay off the bar, and said, "Ladies & Gentleman, I'd like you not swing on that bar.  Stay off there.  Got it?"  They said, "Ok." and got off.   The lady behind the counter said, "Are all of them yours?"  I said, "No, they're nieces and a nephew."  She said, "Do you have any children of your own?" to which I responded, "No."  With a shocked look on her face she said, "Why not?!"  I was a little taken aback.  I didn't want to get into the details so I just said that I'd like to but they haven't come along yet.  She said, "Well, you ought to because you'd be a great mom."   What I wanted to say was, "If you only knew..."  Ugh.  Gut wrenching.

I called Department of Human Services this afternoon to ask for info on foster parenting.  Brett and I have been tossing the idea around for a couple of months.  He's concerned that if we do this we'll be acting like Abraham and Sarah who took matters into their own hands instead of waiting for God's timing.  If I'm being truly honest, I just want children in the house.  I want babies to care for.  Like I said in an email to Hez today, "I want peas on the floor, diapers to change, extra laundry" and all the rest. I want the noises of children, even if they're not my own.  But I know God has a plan and I really don't want to screw it up.  I don't want to be faithless.  I don't know how to hear from God on this because I'm pretty sure DHS is looking for people like Brett and I.  It's not like they're going to turn us down, so that's not a good test of whether or not we're supposed to do it.  How do you figure something like that out?  I guess I'll just get all the info I can, share it with Brett, and we're both praying about it.

Maybe it's the fact that DHS has to do a home inspection and take references that's making me be paranoid about keeping the kitchen clean, but I have kept it clean (or mostly clean) for almost 2 weeks now.  I want to be a good mom.  I don't want to be lazy.  I know that's my tendency, but I don't want to be like that anymore.  I think this is an important thing to learn BEFORE little ones come along.  Dad says something like, "discipline begets discipline and lack of discipline begets laziness."  Well, I've begotten a lot of laziness in the last couple of years and I really want God to take that away from me.

Two Years & Counting

     The earliest memory I have of wanting to be a mom is 5 years old.  Mom sat nursing baby Rae Rae & I rocked along with her in my miniature rocking chair and baby doll.  I remember how the air got pushed out of my lungs as I hung over the side of Rae's crib trying to reach her and pull her out.  I wish I couldn't recall the stink of baby poop as I washed out the cloth diaper in the toilet.  Even as I gagged at the task I knew I wanted to be a mommy.

     In my mind I can still see my mom in her long, knit, red sweater rocking a baby.  I remember how I wanted to be just like her.  She got married after a year of college and I came along 2 years later.  I had my heart set of following in her footsteps, until Dad informed me that I would be going to and finishing college.  So, I revised the plan.  I would go to college, meet someone special around my sophomore or junior year, get married after graduation, work for 2 years and then stay home when our first child was born.  In fall 1999 I realized that I was a junior and still had no fish on the hook.  Then along came someone.

     He wasn't a bad guy most of the time, but he was bad for me.  I pinned all my hopes on him.  I chased him and let him chase me.  I pushed him away and let him return the favor... for 8 years.  As every one of them went by I agonized over how much I hated him and alternately couldn't get away from him.  I prayed to be free of him and find "the one," but that freedom didn't come until winter 2007.

     After a year "off", I was set up on a blind date with Brett Anderson in February 2008.  I wasn't sure he was "the one" right away because I was looking for a big-hearted giant with a hero complex.  I wanted someone who could make me feel feminine, diminutive, and protected (which was quite a stretch for a plump 5' 10" female used to fending for herself).  But Brett fit so many more substantial requirements and, more importantly, I had peace about dating him.  I had peace about marrying him.  No reservations, no knots in my stomach, no sleepless nights.  Peace.

     So, here I am almost 3 years later.  The life-long aspiration of motherhood aches in my heart, but 2 years of infertility burns in my soul.  As a person of faith I know I have to rest in God's timing, but I find that more and more difficult as the months go by.  I find it more and more difficult as I buy presents for other people's babies, as friends and family offer words of encouragement, as I approach the next birthday.  34 is OLD.  And yet it looms in the weeks to come.  34.  Thirty four.  The big 3 - 4.

     All hope is not lost, even though I get lost in disappointment and fear sometimes.  We will start a new form on fertility meds this month (hopefully) and see what will happen from there.  In the mean time, I'm here waiting for Wonderful.