I’m having a fat day. Adventure Dad let me sleep in after a so/so night with Papaya and when I woke up he had made waffles with strawberries and whipped cream for me. It was nice, so I ate it. I hate when I eat, I wish I could avoid eating things but I live for food. So I’ve been working out. Almost two months now. I’m stalled at 177 pounds. My middle is nasty, it squishes out over the top of my jeans. Did I mention he made maple sausage too?
I just want to scream. We always say we are going to help each other eat better and work out more often. I go to the grocery yesterday and get food, good healthy food, and he ignores it. Off to Central Market for “Extra Creamy” cool whip for my waffles? I have no self control, so why does he tempt me? I work so hard not to tempt him or myself; I make him breakfast roll ups with low fat deli ham and sliced lowfat swiss on whole wheat tortillas with egg beaters and he makes me waffles? And why make three of them? I only need one, if that!
Its not his fault, but I don’t know if I could stand to be any more angry at myself for being so fat. Julie and I hired a personal trainer for Fridays for the next eight weeks, I sure hope he does something that kicks me into gear. I’ve got to loose weight or I’m going to die of embarassment at this body.
Oh, and please no “we love you anyway” comments because sweet support right now would take my current anger over the edge. I tried on six pairs of jeans at Old Navy, NONE of them fit. I am apparentl NOT a size 14 and I refuse to buy a 16. It is already embarassing enought to be in a 14, a “plus size.” I own one pair of jeans that fit, that’s what I’ve got. I refuse to buy anything larger so I’ll just have to loose weight and get smaller.
Off to clean my house that is over due for it….
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I sympathise so much, though I of course am only going to get bigger. I have one pair of pants that fit. They are fat pants from all the weight I gained when I quit smoking. I bought them and promptly got pregnant. (I thought it would take more trying!) They’re jeans, so I can’t wash them if I want to wear them without pain. I have no bras that are big enough, and don’t see the point in spending the money now. I am not big enough for maternity clothes. Argh!
Er, not to make this all about me. I just wanted you to know you’re not alone.