BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl


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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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My Buttons Are Still Bulging

b5b8a726fa0ece911dd398f8ec771afdIt occurs to me that this blog, which started off so hopeful and energetic, is taking a turn for the suck-ish. Sure, there are lots of you who read every post (or nearly every) and very often you leave helpful, encouraging feedback. I love you for it more than you will every know. But honestly, I’m afraid that lately I’m not giving you what you came for.

Bulging Buttons, the blog. I liked the sound of it. It neatly summed up my physical state in a way that was realistic, but not too harsh or judgmental. I started off strong. I was eating well (sometimes), working out (sometimes), and writing a lot. I had plans… big plans. Forty-seven of them, to be precise. I was going to get fit, dammit, and take you all along for the ride. Woo Hoo! Great plan right? Except it hasn’t happened.

As usual, life got in the way of my big plans. No, I’m not going to offer up lots of excuses. I really don’t have any. Nothing horrible has happened in my life over the past several months. In fact, it’s been rather fabulous. I’m enjoying my work, my relationship is great, and life in general is pretty darn good. Okay, so the house hasn’t sold as quickly as I might have liked, but really I’m ok. Considering that’s the biggest stress in my life, I’m doing just fine.

Now here comes the shocker. I’m still fat. Fatter than when I started the blog. My sneakers haven’t worn out, my jeans are tighter than ever, and my eating habits are once again horrific. I know better. I know that I’ll sleep better, I’ll look better, and I’ll feel better if I can just shake myself off and get going again. I know I’ll be a better role model and have more energy. I know I’ll like the way I look in the mirror better and I’ll dread going to the doctor less. I know, I know, I know. I also know that I’ll have more to write about for the folks who found encouragement in what I was doing right, back when I was doing it.

So here I go again, publicly declaring that I wish to improve my overall health and fitness through diet and exercise. UGH. I wish this was easy, but it isn’t. The beautiful thing is, I know I’m not alone, and I know you’re here to help cheer me on, not matter how badly I fail.


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Overflowing

imagesI am a balloon inflated with too much air

A sausage filled beyond the capacity of its casing

A suitcase jammed full of clothes, clean and dirty, at the end of a long trip

I am the toybox overflowing with neglected and broken toys

The closet stuffed with a wardrobe that spans four seasons and just as many sizes

I am the trashbin nobody wants to empty, jammed fuller than I ought to be

I am filled beyond capacity

beyond comfort

beyond use