Thursday, January 14, 2010

What 20 lbs difference looks like

This is at 254 pounds, four months ago.

And this is today. 20 pounds lighter.

Will post pictures again when I'm another 20 pounds down (which should be April or May) :)

Wednesday, January 06, 2010

*GASP* New Post! And a recipe too!!

Happy 2010 everyone!

Here's my recipe for 'Breakfast Burritos' (and please, all you authentic Latin-American/Latin-Canadian ppls out there, don't mess with my methods, even if they aren't authentic LOL). All these measurments are approximate, don't go completely by the recipe!


1/4 to 1/2 cup finely cubed cheese (your choice)
4-6 hard-boiled eggs
1/4 cup finely chopped onion
1/4 to 1/2 cup fat-free sour cream (just enough to make it all stick together)
2-4 large (10" or more) tortillas (I like using flavoured ones myself)
6-12 slices ham (shaved or very thinly sliced ham works best)
1/4 cup chili sauce

Place tortillas on a flat surface, spoon about a tablespoon of chili sauce in the top middle of the tortilla. Layer two or three thin slices of ham on top. Mix together the cheese, onions, eggs (after they've been well mashed) and sour cream and spoon it into the tortilla on top of the ham/chili sauce. Roll burrito-style and enjoy!!

Hubby loves this. I must admit that for a low-fat meal, it was SO filling, I only had one.

Started weight-loss regimen again back in October, with strict instructions from OBGYN to lose 30 pounds before even considering partial hysterectomy surgery. Have lost 20 of those 30 doing nothing but Zumba as often as I can and just laying off the junk food (white bread, white sugar, ad nauseum). My 2010 resolution was to simply get HEALTHY. Being a size 12 by my birthday (middle of July) wouldn't hurt either ;)

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Because Twitter is too effing short!!

Hey you can see by my last post, it has been WAYYYY too long since I last blogged. I guess it's because I just haven't found the inspiration in a long time. The overwhelming response to a simple Tweet yesterday has gotten my ass off the proverbial blogging couch, so to speak.

For several years now (indeed, since I started having children at the age of 20) I have struggled with my weight. When I was pregnant with Peej I gained 65 pounds, losing 30 of it almost immediately, putting me at a very comfortable size 12 (I had been a "perfect" size 8 before). I'm fairly tall for a woman at 5'8" so a few extra pounds on me was always easy to hide slash redistribute. When Chrisco came along, I was the heaviest I'd ever been, tipping the scales at 252, losing only 18 pounds after his birth. I went on the Atkins Diet when he was about a year old and within a year, lost 70 pounds. I was never so happy in my life to once again fit into a size 12! My elation however, was shortlived, because as soon as I went back to trying to eat like a normal human being, the weight came back. After B-grrl was born two years later, I was still tipping the scales at 200+ pounds, but was in fairly good shape, so I wasn't worried as much as I had been in the past. I spent about eight and a half years bouncing from about 195 lbs to 205 lbs with generally good health. And then last year happened...

In March of last year, I got a new job... with the new job came the new clothes and I was sooo happy to be buying size 14 and even a few size 12's... I looked good, I felt good, and my new job was going very well (or so I thought). That job only lasted six months, tragically. I had a real hard time with the long commute and with the constant inter-staff competition (and out and out sabotage, frankly), and decided to return home. Having only a high-school education, three kids, a husband and a house to pay rent for, I chose to return to T.H.'s as a full time employee (which ironically, is making me more money than my 'dream job' was). Within three months, I had gained 20 pounds. I know what you must be thinking, if you know what T.H. stands for, but I tell you honestly and truly, I very very VERY rarely ever eat there. I find most of their food too heavy, sugary and expensive to eat there. I don't drink full-sugar sodas (haven't for a very long time because I'm hypoglycemic), and I don't generally eat heavy meals for dinner because I'm in bed by 8:00 p.m. every night (having to get up by 4:00).

To add insult to injury, Hubby got laid off in December (he is still jobless, for the most part, save for a few hours a week delivering pizzas), so my time after work is largely spent getting household chores done, and looking after my three children and husband. This is all assuming I haven't had a rough day at work, because eight hours in drive-thru very often leaves me exhausted (especially when I'm supervising) and barely able to move. I have problems with my back (from falling on ice while very pregnant with Chrisco 13.5 years ago), with my left knee (Osgoode Schlatter's disease that I still have the bump from when I was 10 years old), I have a bunion on my left foot the size of a ping-pong ball and now my reproductive organs are taking a header causing even more pain (it's a genetic thing with the women in my family that we all have had or will have full hysterectomies by the time we're 40... in case you did not know, that's only 3 years away for me). My body is literally falling apart, and I KNOW, yes I DO KNOW the weight on top of all of it isn't helping! I KNOW IT!!

The other day, I stepped on the scale for the first time since last December and was gobsmacked to see the numbers 254 screaming back at me. I knew I was heavy....but heavier than I was at 9 months pregnant with Chrisco? Are you effing shitting me?!!! I sat and cried for an hour, feeling very out of control and completely useless. I had established last time, that although Atkins worked for me very well (because it focuses on low-carb selections, which was good for my hypoglycemia), it wasn't good for me in the long term, so trying that was out. All my usual methods for getting a hold of my weight were either obsolete or no longer feasible...

When I mentioned resources that I was lacking, I didn't mean just a place to 'work out'. I have a walking route around my neighbourhood that, if I do the whole thing, covers 2.5 miles (not kilometres, MILES), and I could do that every day. I used to have an elliptical machine, but the only one I could afford at the time was a piece of crap and I spent more time trying to keep my feet in the footholds than I did actually using the damned thing. Our gyms here in town are fairly reasonably priced, but with me working full-time just to keep our heads above water financially (and trust me, we're using snorkels to get air here!), spending anything on something like that just isn't feasible, plausible or practical right now. Besides, when would I do this? I'm up at 4 a.m. every morning, work from 5:30 to 1:30, go home and do laundry/household chores/whathaveyou, make dinner, clean up after dinner (or get Peej to do it, heh) and then I'm in bed by 7 or 8 p.m!!

Honestly people, I'm NOT trying to garner sympathy here, I'm just trying to convey to everyone just how effing HARD it is to get where you want to go when your ass is laminated into your never-ending cycle of ACK!!!

I think I'm done with this gargantuan post. Any suggestions or comments you wish to make (that goes for my Twitter followers too, yaknow *smile*) are more than welcome at this point. I feel like I'm never going to be healthy again, never going to be able to do the things I want to do without physical and emotional pain. Thank you all again for your support and love... that combine with the same from my wonderful Hubby and kids are really all that's keeping me going at this point. I love each and every one of you and wish you all joy and peace.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Herb Bread sort-of-recipe

Okay, here's the recipe for the white bread that I put in my bread machine. I'm sure if you mix these ingredients by hand it will turn out just fine as well.

1 cup water
2 tablespoons oil
1 tablespoons sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
3 3/4 cups white flour
1 1/2 teaspoons yeast

So, either wait till your machine gives you the 'add ingredients' beep or if you're doing this by hand you can put in a combination of any (or all) of these herbs:

basil, summer savory, thyme, rosemary, italian seasoning, dill seed (or dill weed), cilantro, herb de provence, caraway seed

...and whatever herb you have handy!!

this makes a 1.5 lb loaf.


Thursday, February 12, 2009

Just barely hanging on.

Sounds trite, but it's true.

I'm barely hanging on here. I'm 100 lbs overweight, I'm in constant pain, and any attempts to lower my calorie intake, exercise, ANYTHING to change the way I am now has resulted in a snowball effect: I GAIN weight, my body is rebelling, and I sink deeper into a depression that no one seems to be catching.

Look, I'm not asking for sympathy okay? I told everyone when I started this blog again that I wasn't promising witty repartes and funny stories. This is where I'm at now and I'm doing this to purge myself of it so I can move on...or at least try.

And on top of all that, I know in my heart that working two jobs is just an express lane to the hospital. I took off sick to work today hoping to get in to see my doctor, but due to her just getting out of surgery herself, I can't get in to see her for two weeks, and to be perfectly honest, I don't think I'm a priority enough to go to Emerg. There are far more sick people out there. I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't.

I'm just...tired. Just tired.

Friday, January 30, 2009

Another nail in. the coffin

Now I've got 'Another Brick in the Wall' stuck in my head. But I digress early on...

Hubby has received his termination of benefits registered letter. In other words, our $300 a month medical bill is going to hit us really hard starting next month (Hubby went out and got Peej a month's worth of his prescription yesterday).

He also found out that his department is empty. Gone. No machines. ie, he hasn't a job to go back to even if they call him back. They never intended this to be a 'temporary layoff', which, truth be told, was something we suspected all along.

So he's forming a letter, demanding what he is due. To the tune of some forty grand. 3 weeks for every year he worked, eight weeks in lieu of notice (cuz we ALL know proper notice hasn't been forthcoming of late right?) and the remainder of his vacation pay.

Dear Readers (all two of you), please pray to whatever God or Goddess you deem necessary that this whole thing is resolved for good very very very soon, and in our favour, if you please. Forty grand doesn't seem like a lot of money, but it will pay off every single one of our debts, keep us housed, clothed and fed for at least the next six months without Hubby having to work full time (and me having to work two full-time jobs), plus for the first time in 14 years of marriage, a little money to soak away for something: the kids' education (Peej is leaving for college in two years), a real honeymoon...SOMETHING other than living day to day wondering if we're going to have heat one day, decent food the next.

*sigh* Sometimes I wish I would wake up and this whole mess would be just a bad dream I could wake up from.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

One of the scariest five minutes of my life

I just have to have this written down, so every once in awhile, I can go back and remember. Because I have to. Because I don't want to forget.

I love my husband. Everyone knows this. What not everyone knows is that I think I would die myself should he expire before me. He and my children are literally the only reasons I get up in the morning. Every morning.

Yesterday morning, very early, about 4 a.m. I awoke to Hubby stumbling out of bed. He was heading to the bathroom and I made the big mistake of rolling over and going right back to sleep. What seemed a long time later (but was in fact only a few seconds), there was a resounding crash. I launched myself out of bed, more startled at that point than anything else. My first words were "jaysus krist", and then "Babe, you okay?"...


"Babe?" I got out of bed, and sauntered over to the bathroom door. "Babe? Aw, you sick?"

...more silence...

I tried to very gently open the door, so as to not embarass him should the poor man be 'praying to the Porcelain God', so to speak. He'd only had a couple beers when he came home, so I was pretty sure he wasn't drunk, but hey, you never know. As I pushed on the door, my first thought was 'oh okay, he's locked the door', but then it dawned on me, the doorknob had turned. The door wasn't locked but the door was not moving.



At that moment my first thought was 'PLEASE GODS don't take him from me now', and then my next thought was, 'get your fucking ass into your robe and call 911 or you're going to lose him!!'

I ran to my bedroom door, threw on my robe, and ran right back to the bathroom door, gently pushing on the door to try to either dislodge Jim from the door (he'd passed out at the entryway, effectively wedging the door closed with his body), or get my hand in the door enough to try and get a hold of him in order to dislodge him from the door.

This honestly must have taken all of three or four minutes, tops, but it felt like a fucking YEAR. I had really almost decided to just run for the phone when Jim finally came to.

It was right after he moaned and I felt the door give way to my pushing that I realized I hadn't taken a breath in a very long time. I actually felt dizzy, but whether it was from relief or lack of oxygen I can't be sure. I opened the door and he was very gingerly hurling himself up off the floor and onto the toilet.

He stayed there for a good twenty minutes and I hovered by the door the whole time. Long story sho...well, okay long story made LONGER *sigh*, he thinks the reason he passed out was because he wasn't feeling well to begin with (I still say it was food poisoning from food he ate the day before) and had gotten up too quickly.

Throughout this whole ordeal, my main thought was "what if he doesn't make it? What if we lose him...what if *I* lose him?"

Needless to say, my thoughts on everything changed in those few moments. I will be rethinking my life as I know it. I do not want to regret not doing, not sharing, not being. Life is too short.

And once again, my thoughts are getting jumbled and I'm no longer making sense to myself, and I suspect, to anyone reading this.

Jim's okay. I'm okay. The kids are okay. I'm going to see to it that it stays that way. Period.