I'm still having issues with my scale. When I got home on Friday I decided to weigh myself again and it consistently read 243 lbs. And Saturday it did as well. So I'm not changing my official weigh-in, but I am feeling much better.
I hate the fact that 3 little numbers can affect my day so much, but they do. I know I shouldn't weigh myself as much as I do, but I can't seem to stop.
This weekend was good. My husband, M, was actually home for most of it. He's in law enforcement, and so his hours are never-ending. On Sunday we went to go see his cousin's new baby and had a really nice day . Holding the new baby made me think a bit about having another one. M is ready to have another baby, and the only thing holding me back is this weight.
Living in a developing country, means that health care here is not that great. When I had Z, I was lucky that I had a normal pregnancy and no problems during delivery, but this is not a place that I want to have a high-risk pregnancy. And so, I feel that I need to lose enough weight to be healthier, and not put my baby at risk. I also know that during this next pregnancy, I need to walk more and eat a more balanced diet (i.e. not so much chocolate) so that I gain less. Gaining 60 lbs while I was pregnant made me so miserable in the end. I felt so slow and awkward and I couldn't move easily. I know pregnancy has a certain degree of awkwardness, but I don't think gaining that much weight helped.
Hopefully by this time next year I will be expecting again, at a healthier weight, able to walk and keep up with a 2 year old.
Last night I had a bit of a binge. Luckily there wasn't much to binge on, but I managed to find stuff. When we got home I had 2 pieces of bread with Nutella. Then, M had to go into work and said he would be only an hour or two. An hour or 2 came and went. Z went to bed and it was just me. I had a small bit of the leftovers from lunch. But I was still thinking I needed to eat dinner, even though I was really already full. And M didn't come, and so I had tuna salad and 2 tomatoes. And he still didn't come so I had some crackers and a latte and some arrowroot cookies.
It could have been much worse. I don't overeat when he's there. It's because I'm distracted and have some one to talk to and I'm not lonely. But when he's gone so much, I get lonely and I start eating. He's very supportive and doesn't think I need to change anything about my body. And he says if I do want to lose weight then he will support me because it's what will make me happy. It is great to have a man who loves me for who I am and thinks I'm sexy and attractive no matter what I weigh...but the weight affects my self-confidence and therefore affects our relationship.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Weigh-In
I Need a New Scale
This morning I got on the scale for my weekly weigh-in and nearly threw it out the window. As I got on I just kept thinking "Please please, just go down a little bit". And it read 243 (I was thinking that would be good)...no 242...no 241.5. Stupid scale. Off and back on. Now it says 245...no, 245.5. Damnit. Off and back on and it says 246. Arrgh. So which number do I take. The lowest? An average? I hate this scale.
May as well go with the highest. 246lbs. Giving me a 1/2 lb. loss for the week. Woop-de-friggin-do. I'm not really upset about 246, because that's what I deserve for this past week. I only exercised twice (30 minute walks to work) and only ate within my calories (1200-1400) on one of those days. The other days weren't as bad as they could have been...1500-1600 mostly, with one lovely 2100.
I will not be discouraged.
My first goal is to reach 240 lbs. I know I can do it if I keep exercising and chill out on the cookies and bread.
My Baby
I love being a mom. Z is 15 months old now and such a sweet boy. He has his moments of course. Like the other day in the grocery store when he took a wack at anyone who got too close to the cart.
I guess it's every mama's destiny to feel like they are never doing enough. Managing work, and the house, and the husband with a demanding job, and parenting is hard work. In the beginning I felt that I couldn't manage any of them well. Now I feel that I'm doing much better. I try not to worry about doing everything at once, and instead spend time playing with Z. It of course makes a big difference that he is finally sleeping through the night now. He's still nursing, so he gets up when he's not feeling well, but the majority of the time now he sleeps from 7 pm until 6 am. It feels SO good to get a good night's sleep.
Z is a great exercise buddy. He thinks it's so funny to see me running or jumping around our living room and joins in. He loves going for walks in the stroller too. I need to remember when I am trying to get motivated to exercise that it's good for him too.
A Few Good Things
This week....
I drank 2 L of water everyday.
I was on time for work all week.
I walked to work twice (once with Z in the stroller and once carrying him in the sling).
I kept track of my calories everyday.
I ate fruit and veggies everyday.
I turned off the TV and went to bed early.
I managed to do laundry and the dishes all week, so going into this weekend the house is clean.
Marvelous, Marvelous Washing Machine
I love my washing machine. Love it. It's second hand and rusty on the bottom, but it WASHES OUR CLOTHES AUTOMATICALLY.
You're probably thinking, "Why is this chick getting so excited about a washing machine?". It's because I no longer have to wash by hand. For the 6 years I've been here, I've washed everything by hand. It was so time consuming, that every weekend I felt like all I did was wash.
And then my life changed.
Since last month I have had this magic machine that let's me throw everything in and walk away and do something else and when I come back it's clean. I love that!
Isn't technology great?
This morning I got on the scale for my weekly weigh-in and nearly threw it out the window. As I got on I just kept thinking "Please please, just go down a little bit". And it read 243 (I was thinking that would be good)...no 242...no 241.5. Stupid scale. Off and back on. Now it says 245...no, 245.5. Damnit. Off and back on and it says 246. Arrgh. So which number do I take. The lowest? An average? I hate this scale.
May as well go with the highest. 246lbs. Giving me a 1/2 lb. loss for the week. Woop-de-friggin-do. I'm not really upset about 246, because that's what I deserve for this past week. I only exercised twice (30 minute walks to work) and only ate within my calories (1200-1400) on one of those days. The other days weren't as bad as they could have been...1500-1600 mostly, with one lovely 2100.
I will not be discouraged.
My first goal is to reach 240 lbs. I know I can do it if I keep exercising and chill out on the cookies and bread.
My Baby
I love being a mom. Z is 15 months old now and such a sweet boy. He has his moments of course. Like the other day in the grocery store when he took a wack at anyone who got too close to the cart.
I guess it's every mama's destiny to feel like they are never doing enough. Managing work, and the house, and the husband with a demanding job, and parenting is hard work. In the beginning I felt that I couldn't manage any of them well. Now I feel that I'm doing much better. I try not to worry about doing everything at once, and instead spend time playing with Z. It of course makes a big difference that he is finally sleeping through the night now. He's still nursing, so he gets up when he's not feeling well, but the majority of the time now he sleeps from 7 pm until 6 am. It feels SO good to get a good night's sleep.
Z is a great exercise buddy. He thinks it's so funny to see me running or jumping around our living room and joins in. He loves going for walks in the stroller too. I need to remember when I am trying to get motivated to exercise that it's good for him too.
A Few Good Things
This week....
I drank 2 L of water everyday.
I was on time for work all week.
I walked to work twice (once with Z in the stroller and once carrying him in the sling).
I kept track of my calories everyday.
I ate fruit and veggies everyday.
I turned off the TV and went to bed early.
I managed to do laundry and the dishes all week, so going into this weekend the house is clean.
Marvelous, Marvelous Washing Machine
I love my washing machine. Love it. It's second hand and rusty on the bottom, but it WASHES OUR CLOTHES AUTOMATICALLY.
You're probably thinking, "Why is this chick getting so excited about a washing machine?". It's because I no longer have to wash by hand. For the 6 years I've been here, I've washed everything by hand. It was so time consuming, that every weekend I felt like all I did was wash.
And then my life changed.
Since last month I have had this magic machine that let's me throw everything in and walk away and do something else and when I come back it's clean. I love that!
Isn't technology great?
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Fat Fat Wei
I've been called fat several times before in my life, but never as much as when I moved to the South Pacific.
I think I remember the first time I was called fat. It was in the third grade. A boy I liked said he liked me but I was too fat. The next memorable time was in the sixth grade. This mean little punk of a boy, Jeff, came up to me on the playground and out of nowhere, in front of everyone (note: we had just moved that summer so this was a brand new school at the beginning of adolescence) said "you are so fat." What a jerk.
But as I said before, upon coming to the South Pacific, I've lost count of how many times I've been called fat. Here it's not so much a negative thing to be fat, it's just that people love stating the obvious. The first few times, I was so hurt and offended and would cry and cry once I got back to my little grass hut. I couldn't believe how people could be so rude. How could they call me fat...and in front of other people!
I knew I was fat. I'd been fat all my life. At age 25 I'd reached my highest weight of 267 lbs. Before I signed up to be a volunteer in the Pacific, I wasn't really miserable but I wasn't happy. I felt invisible. Like people looked right through me as though I was nothing.
Coming here was probably one of the best things that ever happened to me. I ended up being posted on a remote little island where the nearest telephone was 1 1/2 hours walk away, the airport and post office were 3 hours away, and the village I lived in was in a valley, so to get out to go anywhere, you had to climb uphill. The food was all freshly grown in gardens scattered over the hills and no one had ever heard of McDonald's.
In the first 3 months I lost 30 lbs. In the following 4 months I lost another 40 lbs. By the time I had been there a year, I was down to 180 lbs, which was the same weight I was when I was a freshman in high school. The great thing about losing the weight, was that I almost didn't realize it was happening. My clothes were loser and it kept getting easier climbing the hills, but with only a little hand mirror, I hadn't seen myself in months. Anyone that's lost a good deal of weight knows that it takes a while to mentally catch up with your new smaller self and it took a long time for my brain to catch up with my body.
For four years I maintained that weight while I worked on the island.
I met my husband here, and once we were married and moved to the capital city, things started to change. We had decided to start trying to have a baby as soon as we could, and wouldn't you know, I was pregnant 2 weeks later. I told myself that I would not stress about my weight while I was pregnant. And so I started eating for two, and on some days three or four. The change from living out in the middle of nowhere, to living in a town where ice cream and french fries and public transport were available did not go over well for me. However, my pregnancy went well and I delivered a beautiful 8 lb. 8oz. baby boy last year.
A few weeks later when I got on the scale, it was back to 237lbs.
And no it didn't stop there.
After a trip home to the States that December, I managed to put on another 15 lbs. leading to my ultimate weigh-in of 255 lbs. in June, when I finally decided to get control of myself.
Since June I've lost about 10 lbs. by getting back to unprocessed food and starting to exercise. Part of this most recent weight loss has been through the help from other blogs. I have to be honest with you, I had never read a blog before this year, and I was really surprised at how hearing other people's stories about trying to be healthier, helped me.
I know there are 1000's of blogs similar to this. But like those blogs I am hoping that holding myself accountable through sharing my story, will help me reach my goals and maybe encourage someone else.
I would like to get down to 170 lbs. I feel like I would be happy there. At 180 I felt good. I was curvey and healthy and could find clothes that fit me. I could climb mountains. I could canoe. I could even RUN!
I know what I need to do, because I did it before. I need to walk everyday. I need to eat local produce the majority of the time. And I need to keep junk food out of my house. It's so simple when you say it all like that.
Oh right...
I've forgotten something...
I need to do something other then gorge myself when I'm upset or stressed.
So there it is. I don't want to be "fat fat wei" (pidgin English for "really, really, fat")....I want to be healthy for my husband and son. I want our family to grow and I want to get back to that feeling of confidence in whatever I do.
Thanks for reading and I hope I won't disapoint.
I think I remember the first time I was called fat. It was in the third grade. A boy I liked said he liked me but I was too fat. The next memorable time was in the sixth grade. This mean little punk of a boy, Jeff, came up to me on the playground and out of nowhere, in front of everyone (note: we had just moved that summer so this was a brand new school at the beginning of adolescence) said "you are so fat." What a jerk.
But as I said before, upon coming to the South Pacific, I've lost count of how many times I've been called fat. Here it's not so much a negative thing to be fat, it's just that people love stating the obvious. The first few times, I was so hurt and offended and would cry and cry once I got back to my little grass hut. I couldn't believe how people could be so rude. How could they call me fat...and in front of other people!
I knew I was fat. I'd been fat all my life. At age 25 I'd reached my highest weight of 267 lbs. Before I signed up to be a volunteer in the Pacific, I wasn't really miserable but I wasn't happy. I felt invisible. Like people looked right through me as though I was nothing.
Coming here was probably one of the best things that ever happened to me. I ended up being posted on a remote little island where the nearest telephone was 1 1/2 hours walk away, the airport and post office were 3 hours away, and the village I lived in was in a valley, so to get out to go anywhere, you had to climb uphill. The food was all freshly grown in gardens scattered over the hills and no one had ever heard of McDonald's.
In the first 3 months I lost 30 lbs. In the following 4 months I lost another 40 lbs. By the time I had been there a year, I was down to 180 lbs, which was the same weight I was when I was a freshman in high school. The great thing about losing the weight, was that I almost didn't realize it was happening. My clothes were loser and it kept getting easier climbing the hills, but with only a little hand mirror, I hadn't seen myself in months. Anyone that's lost a good deal of weight knows that it takes a while to mentally catch up with your new smaller self and it took a long time for my brain to catch up with my body.
For four years I maintained that weight while I worked on the island.
I met my husband here, and once we were married and moved to the capital city, things started to change. We had decided to start trying to have a baby as soon as we could, and wouldn't you know, I was pregnant 2 weeks later. I told myself that I would not stress about my weight while I was pregnant. And so I started eating for two, and on some days three or four. The change from living out in the middle of nowhere, to living in a town where ice cream and french fries and public transport were available did not go over well for me. However, my pregnancy went well and I delivered a beautiful 8 lb. 8oz. baby boy last year.
A few weeks later when I got on the scale, it was back to 237lbs.
And no it didn't stop there.
After a trip home to the States that December, I managed to put on another 15 lbs. leading to my ultimate weigh-in of 255 lbs. in June, when I finally decided to get control of myself.
Since June I've lost about 10 lbs. by getting back to unprocessed food and starting to exercise. Part of this most recent weight loss has been through the help from other blogs. I have to be honest with you, I had never read a blog before this year, and I was really surprised at how hearing other people's stories about trying to be healthier, helped me.
I know there are 1000's of blogs similar to this. But like those blogs I am hoping that holding myself accountable through sharing my story, will help me reach my goals and maybe encourage someone else.
I would like to get down to 170 lbs. I feel like I would be happy there. At 180 I felt good. I was curvey and healthy and could find clothes that fit me. I could climb mountains. I could canoe. I could even RUN!
I know what I need to do, because I did it before. I need to walk everyday. I need to eat local produce the majority of the time. And I need to keep junk food out of my house. It's so simple when you say it all like that.
Oh right...
I've forgotten something...
I need to do something other then gorge myself when I'm upset or stressed.
So there it is. I don't want to be "fat fat wei" (pidgin English for "really, really, fat")....I want to be healthy for my husband and son. I want our family to grow and I want to get back to that feeling of confidence in whatever I do.
Thanks for reading and I hope I won't disapoint.
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