Getting Better...
It feels like forever since I updated last--but thanks to el-jay, I know it's been five days. I cannot possibly recount what all has happened, but I can tell you this, kiddie-poos: I am SO MUCH BETTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm off the pain meds (save Ibuprofen--and even that is maybe twice a day) and feeling positive about life again. Except I'm so behind. I don't want to focus too much on what I still need to do (a million things it seems), but something is pulling my focus...
And it's a bit...embarrassing...kinda, but I'm really starting to get into it...
I want to have plastic surgery. I really do.
I've vacillated on this topic over the years from DO EEEET to NO WAY time and time again. I'm so on the YES side right now. Did I tell you how this all started??
I can't recall, so if I'm rehashing, forgive me, but my mom said several weeks ago that she's going to have a tummy tuck (TT) once she is within 10 lbs. of her goal weight. Now, that woman has busted her ass doing Weight Watchers (WW) for over a year. She can look at a serving of any food and calculate point values in her head from 30 paces. I admire that, even though it gets a little annoying from time to time.
"Do you know how many points that has??"
NO.
Don't want to.
Don't care.
Just let me eat my #1 with no onion, extra sauce with a Coke in peace!!! (SIdebar: Why does McDonald's Coke taste better than ANY other?)
Much like a golf score, the fewer the better, which is rather counterintuitive to most challenges--we want points! We love points! The more points the better!! Oddly, much like MY golf scores, the point values of my food selections and sheer volume are WELL over par.
So, one day, mom calculates how many points I eat in an average day -- somewhere in the neighborhood of 80-100 points. I was having more points for breakfast than she gets all day--even using some FLEX points.
(Are you sick of the word "points" yet? I thought so. Me, too.)
Well, she made me an interesting offer: "If you get within 10 lbs. of YOUR goal weight, I'll front you half the money for a TT."
HOLY FATBLOBS!
In an instant, everything seemed....possible...doable...attainable.
See, even after I had lost a bunch of weight, I still had the post-partum family female curse: the stretchmarked, flabbly, excess skin-laden tummy.
After the second baby, it's even worse. UGH.
And I swear to god, just about the time I had given up on the idea of PS and decided to love myself exactly the way I am, I get an offer like that.
So, I've been obsessively looking at before and after pictures, reading journals/blogs and message boards exclusively for the ladies who have recently moved to the "flatlands" as they say. And I want my tummy to look like the great open prairie.
Then it happened. I saw people who had the duo-procedures--the TT with a Breast Lift (BL) or the triple-threat, a BL and a BA (breast augmentation). At first, I was convinced that I needed implants, but the more I think about it, I'd just be happy to get the girls off my waist, even if it means going down a cup size.
I know what you must be thinking, but bear with me here! After nursing two babies, the last one for eight months, I have to tell you, the twins are looking like Fruit Rollups. And what's with my areolas (areoli?)?? They are the size of coasters! If I were to lie down on my back, the girls flatten out, rest on my biceps and look like you could set two drinks down on my areolas! And we're not talking shot glasses -- we're talking a 16 oz. tumbler with the diameter of a Coke can.
How many times do you suppose that I have looked this way and that in the unforgiving mirrors in my bathrooms (upstairs, downstairs, and even in the kitchen, catching my reflection in the microwave), lifting my saggy-baggies and holding up the apron of flab that otherwise flops over my skivvies? Too many times to count, I assure you.
Of course any "add-on's" would be my financial responsibility -- but while I'm THERE, why not get it ALL done, right? This is how people get addicted to PS, you know? Because then I'm thinking, a bit of lipo on the inner thighs isn't such a bad idea either. I mean, at my absolute thinnest, I have NEVER seen even so much as a crack of light between my thighs in a standing position. I personally think some women are just built differently, because my legs are set in to my hips -- not toward the outer edges.
And that's where the realistic expectation thing sets in. If I could JUST get rid of the deflated balloon that is my stomach and turn my fruit rollups back into (smallish) mellons, I would be SO HAPPY.
Not that I'm not happy now -- I mean, I'm delighted with everything in my life (except for maybe that to-do list that's still waiting for me)--it's just that I have never (and I mean NEVER) felt so motivated in my life!!!
I'm watching my choices and portions -- not counting points, of course, because that is just too bothersome. I'm already feeling the positive effects of my decision for excision. ;) No putting anything IN, just taking some stuff OFF, namely the skin I inherited absolutely sans elastin.
The biggest issues I have now are these: (1) Are we DONE having babies??? and (2) When would I do this???
I'm thinking I'm done having babies. I'm thrilled with my two boys and have no burning desire to "try one more time for a girl" (WTF??). I think I'm better suited as a boy-mom anyway. And we have a guest room in our four-bedroom home, which I love. I really don't want more. I'm not so sure my hubby's on board. I think he really wants one more. (I know, let him get PG and have it, right???)
In regards to issue #2, I had thought about really cracking down and dropping 40 lbs by Christmas break, and doing in then with time off for recovery. But, that seems a bit hasty, and I'm totally okay with waiting until Summer break 2008. Extra time to recover, longer time over which to lose the weight, and make sure hubby is over the baby-thing.
Well, writing time is way up, and the specter of my to-do list is still looming, so I'm going to sign off now!
I'm off the pain meds (save Ibuprofen--and even that is maybe twice a day) and feeling positive about life again. Except I'm so behind. I don't want to focus too much on what I still need to do (a million things it seems), but something is pulling my focus...
And it's a bit...embarrassing...kinda, but I'm really starting to get into it...
I want to have plastic surgery. I really do.
I've vacillated on this topic over the years from DO EEEET to NO WAY time and time again. I'm so on the YES side right now. Did I tell you how this all started??
I can't recall, so if I'm rehashing, forgive me, but my mom said several weeks ago that she's going to have a tummy tuck (TT) once she is within 10 lbs. of her goal weight. Now, that woman has busted her ass doing Weight Watchers (WW) for over a year. She can look at a serving of any food and calculate point values in her head from 30 paces. I admire that, even though it gets a little annoying from time to time.
"Do you know how many points that has??"
NO.
Don't want to.
Don't care.
Just let me eat my #1 with no onion, extra sauce with a Coke in peace!!! (SIdebar: Why does McDonald's Coke taste better than ANY other?)
Much like a golf score, the fewer the better, which is rather counterintuitive to most challenges--we want points! We love points! The more points the better!! Oddly, much like MY golf scores, the point values of my food selections and sheer volume are WELL over par.
So, one day, mom calculates how many points I eat in an average day -- somewhere in the neighborhood of 80-100 points. I was having more points for breakfast than she gets all day--even using some FLEX points.
(Are you sick of the word "points" yet? I thought so. Me, too.)
Well, she made me an interesting offer: "If you get within 10 lbs. of YOUR goal weight, I'll front you half the money for a TT."
HOLY FATBLOBS!
In an instant, everything seemed....possible...doable...attainable.
See, even after I had lost a bunch of weight, I still had the post-partum family female curse: the stretchmarked, flabbly, excess skin-laden tummy.
After the second baby, it's even worse. UGH.
And I swear to god, just about the time I had given up on the idea of PS and decided to love myself exactly the way I am, I get an offer like that.
So, I've been obsessively looking at before and after pictures, reading journals/blogs and message boards exclusively for the ladies who have recently moved to the "flatlands" as they say. And I want my tummy to look like the great open prairie.
Then it happened. I saw people who had the duo-procedures--the TT with a Breast Lift (BL) or the triple-threat, a BL and a BA (breast augmentation). At first, I was convinced that I needed implants, but the more I think about it, I'd just be happy to get the girls off my waist, even if it means going down a cup size.
I know what you must be thinking, but bear with me here! After nursing two babies, the last one for eight months, I have to tell you, the twins are looking like Fruit Rollups. And what's with my areolas (areoli?)?? They are the size of coasters! If I were to lie down on my back, the girls flatten out, rest on my biceps and look like you could set two drinks down on my areolas! And we're not talking shot glasses -- we're talking a 16 oz. tumbler with the diameter of a Coke can.
How many times do you suppose that I have looked this way and that in the unforgiving mirrors in my bathrooms (upstairs, downstairs, and even in the kitchen, catching my reflection in the microwave), lifting my saggy-baggies and holding up the apron of flab that otherwise flops over my skivvies? Too many times to count, I assure you.
Of course any "add-on's" would be my financial responsibility -- but while I'm THERE, why not get it ALL done, right? This is how people get addicted to PS, you know? Because then I'm thinking, a bit of lipo on the inner thighs isn't such a bad idea either. I mean, at my absolute thinnest, I have NEVER seen even so much as a crack of light between my thighs in a standing position. I personally think some women are just built differently, because my legs are set in to my hips -- not toward the outer edges.
And that's where the realistic expectation thing sets in. If I could JUST get rid of the deflated balloon that is my stomach and turn my fruit rollups back into (smallish) mellons, I would be SO HAPPY.
Not that I'm not happy now -- I mean, I'm delighted with everything in my life (except for maybe that to-do list that's still waiting for me)--it's just that I have never (and I mean NEVER) felt so motivated in my life!!!
I'm watching my choices and portions -- not counting points, of course, because that is just too bothersome. I'm already feeling the positive effects of my decision for excision. ;) No putting anything IN, just taking some stuff OFF, namely the skin I inherited absolutely sans elastin.
The biggest issues I have now are these: (1) Are we DONE having babies??? and (2) When would I do this???
I'm thinking I'm done having babies. I'm thrilled with my two boys and have no burning desire to "try one more time for a girl" (WTF??). I think I'm better suited as a boy-mom anyway. And we have a guest room in our four-bedroom home, which I love. I really don't want more. I'm not so sure my hubby's on board. I think he really wants one more. (I know, let him get PG and have it, right???)
In regards to issue #2, I had thought about really cracking down and dropping 40 lbs by Christmas break, and doing in then with time off for recovery. But, that seems a bit hasty, and I'm totally okay with waiting until Summer break 2008. Extra time to recover, longer time over which to lose the weight, and make sure hubby is over the baby-thing.
Well, writing time is way up, and the specter of my to-do list is still looming, so I'm going to sign off now!