My weight is ballooning. Understand that when I say ballon it’s less of a “oh look, a party!” and more of a “hey mom, can we ride that?”  I weigh more now than I ever have, and that includes the three times I was pregnant.  Well, actually only the last time because with each progressive pregnancy my start weight was more, so it only stands to reason… (Why is that?  Do they leave something behind when they come out? ) I read somewhere that if you are in a happy marriage you tend to gain one pound each year, if you don’t follow some diet and exercise plan.  I’m so happy I’ve just about tripled that estimate with no end to my happiness in sight.  Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so freakin’ happy.

I know that part pf the problem is the medications I’m on.  At least three of them list weight gain as a common side effect.  Just my luck.  Some of them have groovy side effects like weight loss and hallucinations…not to mention the fun you could have with dementia, but no, I get weight gain!  My mom is taking one of the meds I take, and while she’s not giving out numbers I know she’s gone up two pant sizes because she and I are wearing the same size now.  She used to inherit my cast offs. Now she is just inheriting my crappy attitude about medication with stupid side effects.  I also strongly suspect that she may be taking the one that lists dementia as a side effect, but if she is she can’t remember.

My hubby, who’s chubby, and I have decided to seek help at Jenny Craig once the holidays have passed. This won’t be our first foray into the diet world.  It will be somewhere around the fifth or sixth.  I hate it.  We have been on so many diets I’m surprised we haven’t developed our own plan and made some real money…but if you saw us you might understand why that might not work.  We’ve done Jenny Craig…together we lost a sixth grader.  We did L.A Weight Loss…together we lost a full sized female.  We tried to do Nutri-systems and quickly figured out the secret to their success, the food is just to horrible to eat!  So now we are back to good old Jenny Craig, and together, if we are successful we will  lose a Sumo wrestler.  The worst part of it is for every pound I lose he will lose three. Plus, not only will  I oversee my diet plan, I will oversee his.  “What else can I have?  Did I have all my fruits? Do I still have a starch?” and so on.  And since he’s a man, and a foot taller than me he gets to consume twice as many calories as I do.  So at the end of the day when I’ve completed my list of foods he will still be gnoshing away.   However; as you can tell I’m a kind and patient woman who would never set him up to fail by giving him the wrong foods or calorie counts.  How can you even suggest such a thing?  I’m also concerned that the medications (and not at all the fact that I’m older) won’t allow me to lose the weight like I have before.  When I asked my skinny, athletic, ridiculously unsympathetic doctor about it he told me that it was a real Catch 22.  Take the meds, no pain, be fat.  Don’t take the meds, have pain, be thinner.   Ta-Da!!  It’s good to be me!  The good news is I have some kick-ass pain killers on me at all times; the bad news is I need them.  The other bad news is sometimes they wear off.

So I am going to diet.  I am going to be happy and positive and reduce my fats and carbs and flavors.  I shall be svelte, and as long and lean as 5′3″ gets.  This will be the lie that I tell myself every day as I throw out the food and eat the boxes it came in.  “Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels”.  I don’t know who said that, but a bigger crock never came out of anyone’s mouth.  Thin doesn’t have a feeling.  I know.  I used to be it…once a long time ago.  Now I’m two thins joined together in the middle.  Anyway, back to that crappy saying…it may have actually been on a poster or something somewhere, but whoever said it was probably young.  I know because I have experienced some pretty delicious food in my life (true Italian gellato being right up there at the top) and if my whole body didn’t ache 24/7 I probably would just continue my search for the world’s best of almost anything with chocolate, or any combination of brown sugar and butter.  I would follow these searches closely with my search for the world’s most comfortable (and forgiving) stretch pants.

There are many motivators for losing weight.  Not mundane things like high blood pressure and diabetes, my blood pressure and blood sugar both run low, I do have high cholesterol but I take a pill for that…(see meds that can cause weight gain).  Oh sure, one of you skinny little Nancies is going to swear that if I lost the forty pounds I need to I wouldn’t need that pill.  Whatever, I had high cholesterol when I was thin too so neener-neener!  Don’ get between a fat bitch and her pills! Anyway, real motivators, like the one a woman feels for her family.  One of my primary motivations for wanting to lose weight right now is to stay healthy for my grandson and all the grandkids to come.  That dear sweet little face.  Those two little arms that reach for me and the smile I get when he first sees me.  There is nothing so dear…except revenge.  I love being able to extract a little revenge.  I called my son the other night just to see what was going on, and in the background I heard my grandson crying (screaming, pitching a hissy).  More importantly, I heard fear in the voice of my son.  “Mom, did any of us kids ever cry for so long at that pitch that was just outside of that range that only a dog can hear that you thought you might actually do yourself harm?” I knew then that some small part of him knew that a being only eighteen months old was in charge of his home.  He was very afraid.  It was then I knew that there was no way in hell I was checking out early.  I knew my prayers would be answered.  He would raise a child just like he was when he was a kid!  Glory to God…all things are possible!  Not only are these battles worth sticking around for, I’ve got two more kids I cursed with the same curse, and they haven’t even thought about having kids yet!  Hot Damn!  I got a lot of living to do! 

 

Today’s Pa-ism: If life was a sow, I’d be on the hind teat!  Definition: Things suck   

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