Spit and Vinegar

Note: This post has strong language. You've been warned.

I need to gear up my snark for our trip next week. I'm just itchin' to have one of my husband's relatives ask me if I'm pregnant.

"No, I'm just fat."

"No, are you?"

"Sorry, when did it become appropriate to comment on someone's appearance unless it's a compliment?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry, I've been hard-pressed to make it to the gym, what with miscarrying last summer, quitting my job, and having my mom die, and taking care of my dad."

"How did you get your foot in your mouth like that?"

"What a personal question to ask someone."

"Not that I know of, but I know not to wear this shirt again."

"No, why do you ask?"

I told hubby today that if anyone, anyone, asks me that question, I'm going to be punching them in the face. Even if it is his 90-year-old gramma.

No joke, at an event two weeks ago, I had the mother of a dear friend (and priest) come up to me, touched my belly (let me tell you how just gosh-darn good *that* felt), and said, "Do you have news to share?" Because I was disconcerted, I said, "No, but when we are, we'll let you know." Seriously, the woman asks me every single fucking time I see her. I love her, she's a sweet lady, but damn it if doesn't drive me batty.
I'm so stressed out about this trip, btw. Too much to do at home to get ready to go, and too much to do to the house before we go. I get so overwhelmed when this happens that I just shut down. I can't function. I get super-nervous (like really bad anxiety), and just generally tend to freak out. Which on top of my normally anxious personality, drives my husband crazy. "It'll be fine," is a phrase repeated a lot around these here parts.

My poor husband... seriously, how he puts up with my neuroses and temper and well, everything, is so beyond me. I'm so self-critical, it drives him absolutely crazy.

Do you ever have days where you ask yourself "What the fuck are you doing?" Yeah, that was my day today. Several times over.

You don't like the way you look. What the fuck are you doing, eating and not exercising?


You don't like the way you parent. What the fuck are you doing, yelling?


You don't like the way you harp on your husband. What the fuck are you doing, harping?


I read something the other day, and while it wasn't connected to weight-loss/eating/exercising, it's stuck with me. It was something about how if you can't say "no," your "yes"s mean nothing, they are worthless. If I can't say "NO" to food, then what does my "YES" to food mean? My "YES" means nothing, because I will eat anything. Boy, what a cheerful thought.

My problem, as it relates to my weight and not neuroses, is I think two-fold. One, I have a hard time motivating myself without getting depressed. Two, I despise extra work, especially as it relates to calorie-counting and preparing different food (which I will never do). So, big hurdles. I'm approximately 175 lbs, which is oh about 40 lbs over my weight goal. Yay!

See, I've psyched myself out already.

Yes, I sometimes love how I feel after I'm done exercising. But I hate the actual act of exercise. I hate that it takes me forever to lose weight - and even then, usually I've just toned my arms and legs and not gotten rid of my belly fat.

I tried the 30-Day Shred. All it did was shred my knees, and make me wanna hunt down Jillian Michaels and kill her for being able to talk while exercising.

I won't do gyms, ever again. I am too self-conscious and too self-critical to ever go back to a gym.

I try to get exercise with the kids, but the weather has been weird here lately and that makes it hard to go outside.

Yes, I'm aware I'm making excuses. It's what I do, see?  Anyway, most of this post is probably TMI, but oh well, I write for myself and not for you people. It helps me think and puzzle out the flaws in my thinking, enabling me to sit back from a situation and analyze it from a (hopefully) more objective viewpoint.








Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaa

I'll get back to you.