BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl


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Of Donuts and Shame and a Kick-ass PTA

“They’ll know,” I thought to myself as I took a deep breath. I looked in the mirror, and it’s a good thing I did. A shiny reflection glinted back at me from my blouse. Dammit! I almost walked into my first Weight Watchers meeting in years with a chip of donut glaze prominently displayed above my right breast. That was a close call.173572251_Doughnut

I made the decision to go back to Weight Watchers, but it came at a bad time. You see, it’s Teacher Appreciation Week. You knew that, right? No? That’s ok. For most of my career I didn’t know when it was either. That’s because Teacher Appreciation Week (TAW from now on, because it’s just too many letters to type) was marked by a little card of appreciation from my administrator (sometimes with a pencil or a Hershey Kiss), and a few spammy type emails from various businesses that sell overpriced goods to underpaid teachers. It was easy to miss, especially since it’s not a national holiday, at least not yet.

This year, however, TAW is different. This year I work at a school with a kick-ass PTA who takes their job very seriously. These people are on a mission, and by golly they succeed. They raise funds and provide goods and services to the school like nobody’s business. We needed more Smartboards. Hello PTA. Done. Amazing. They run roller skating parties and dances, they sell gift wrap and cookie dough, and among other things, they give the teachers money for supplies. Unless you’ve taught in a school with no budget and no viable PTA, you can’t appreciate how huge this is.

Well, these generous people took it upon themselves to give our teacher’s lounge a makeover. They brought in two sleek new tables and a new television stand with storage underneath (I’ve never actually seen the television on, maybe it’s there for emergencies). They’ve redone the bulletin boards that were looking a little sad and sloppy. They put up decorative mirrors and a few other wall decorations to jazz things up. And then the real deal… they gave us tons of new, useful stuff! microwave-oven-repairs-sydney-australia-service-centreTwo coffee makers, two microwaves, a toaster, a three station crockpot, an ice maker and a huge set of dishes and storage containers. Oh, they even brought in new dish scrubbers! It’s incredible.

Naturally they wanted us to use all these gorgeous new appliances and dishes, so they brought in a huge breakfast too. I was good. I ate a yogurt. But only because I had just been to Starbucks and had a pastry and a frappucino. But shhhh, nobody needs to know about that. Or about the donut I had at lunch. Ok. I had two of them. And then another after school. And another. Oh god. Did I really eat four donuts? And a yogurt? And a pastry? And a frappucino? And nachos in honor of Cinco de Mayo (because I’m sure everyone in Mexico eats nachos to commemorate General Zaragoza’s victory over the French at Puebla)? Yep. I did.

I could have thrown in the towel right then and there. I could have deemed myself unworthy of Weight Watchers. I could have taken my donut stuffed, shame filled self home for another round of woe is me, I’m so fat. I could have, but I didn’t. I stopped in the restroom, removed the tell tale donut glaze, and bravely stepped back into that bright yellow haven called Weight Watchers.

Yes, getting on the scale sucked, but so what. I can do it. I’ve done it before. The room was full of people just like me. People who want to shed pounds for whatever reason. People who appreciate the support of others and the accountability of the weekly weigh in. The people there are nice. They really are. And if they judge you for walking in with donut glaze, they generally keep it to themselves, even if they do want to lick your shirt.

 

 

 


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Here We Go, Again

Here I sit, Sunday night, drinking my water and feeling pretty good about having eaten only half of my dragon noodles (they were soooooo good!). I’m patting myself on the back because I spent about two hours walking around the home and garden show with my guys. So what if there was no inspiration to be found at the show? I hoofed it and got a little exercise, not to mention the hike across the fairground parking lot and back. Oh yeah, I’m a health nut.o-WOMAN-FEET-SCALE-facebook

Not really.

You know me too well.

If these lame examples are what I’m counting as successes, I’m really not succeeding. I can do better. I can do more.

I want to use selling my house as an excuse. I want to blame my terrible eating habits on having to keep the kitchen clean for any potential visitors, but really that’s baloney. I can eat yogurt or fruit without making a mess. A pre-made salad takes no effort or time to prepare, and has very little clean up. I’m lying to myself, and it’s showing.

My waistline is expanding, my breathing is labored, and the tingling in my hands from my carpal tunnel is getting worse by the day (I swear it’s related to my weight and overall health).

My last doctor’s appointment wasn’t exactly great. We had the talk. Again.

I want to do better. I want to feel better. I know a way that might help, but the question is do I want to commit?

Yes, folks, I’m thinking about going back to Weight Watchers. Again. They always welcome me with open arms and big smiles (of course I do pay them) . I like the meetings. I like the accountability. I even like the structure. The question is, am I willing to put in the work?

I guess we’ll see, because I’m going to do it. Tomorrow I sign up. Again. Wish me luck.


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Renaming and Reframing the Week

I’d like to take credit for Throwback Thursday, but of course I can’t. It’s been around for about a million years, give or take a few.

Still, I didn’t notice it all over facebook and everywhere else until I started doing my own little Throwback posts. Isn’t that the way? You think you’re doing something fun and out of the ordinary, then it turns out that everyone is doing the same thing.

Learning to speak Hindi? You’ll meet three people next week who are learning it as well. Thinking of moving to Siberia? Funny thing, your new next door neighbor just relocated from there. Think you just purchased the only purple car in town? Probably not, since you’ll notice one parked in the lot at work next week. Turns out that nothing is really original. Still, you have to follow your inspirations.

Speaking of inspiration, I’ve been sorely lacking it lately. As a result,  I’ve decided that maybe we should rename the days of the week. Here are my thoughts, as they pop into my head:Purple-Suzuki-Liana-hatchback-car

Melancholy Monday

Tumultuous Tuesday

Whiny Wednesday

Thick-headed Thursday

Fickle Friday

Slovenly Saturday

Sedentary Sunday

What do you think? They would bring some different ideas to mind for writing, that’s for sure. On Mondays we could reminisce and wax poetic about what might have been. On Tuesdays we can write about all hell breaking loose, both literally and figuratively. Wednesdays will be popular, I’m sure, as there’s no shortage of topics to whine about, from bratty neighbor kids, to paychecks that could always be larger to nasty grocery store clerks. Yes, I’m sure Wednesday would become the new favorite day of the week under this system.

Moving into the home stretch of the week, we could reflect on all of the boneheaded things we have done on Thick-headed Thursday. A little self-deprecation isn’t a bad thing, but if you’re not up for it, why not remember all of the boneheaded things other people have done? I know it always makes me feel better about myself when I realize that there are many people on earth who do a lot dumber things than I do. Finally, on Fickle Friday we could spend the last day of the work week on the fence, avoiding making decisions or standing by our convictions. We could spend the whole day waffling, and never have to commit to anything.

The weekend sounds like a blast too. On Slovenly Saturday we could spend the day in pajamas and eat ice cream out of the carton. Of course the dirty spoon can just sit on the coffee table along with that half read magazine and the empty box of sweet and salty cashew granola bars. Sedentary Sunday will find us on the couch under a pile of filth that we’re just too lazy to clean up, watching movies and avoiding responsibilities. It’s a perfect lead-in to, you guessed it, Melancholy Monday.

What do you think of the new week? Anybody in? No? I hope not. No matter how hokey or overdone they might be, I still prefer Marvelous Monday, Terrific Tuesday, Wonderful Wednesday, Thrilling Thursday, and Fun Friday. And the weekend? Well, that speaks for itself.