Tastebud Transplant?

One thing I've noticed about myself over the last 10 months is how my tastes have changed.  Dramatically.  I don't know if it's a result of how my body has changed since the surgery or if it's just part of getting older, but I don't crave the things I used to and in fact crave things I never dreamed I would.  If I didn't know any better, I'd swear I had a tastebud transplant when I had my bypass. (By the way, spell check tells me "tastebud" is two words, but it just looks weird that way.  Bite it, spell check!)

This one-time chocoholic couldn't care less about chocolate.  If it's there, fine.  If not, that's fine too.  I rarely crave it.  At Easter time, I had a severe jelly bean habit.  Never in my life have I cared a bit about jelly beans.  My absolute favorite candy is the Cadbury creme egg.  Not this year.

I crave salad.  Isn't that bizarre?  Who, besides my mother, craves salad?  Or any vegetable, for that matter.  Me, that's who.  Weird. 

Cheese used to be a non-issue with me.  I liked it, but it wasn't all that exciting.  Throw in a cracker and some pepperoni and it was a fine little treat.  If we didn't have any in the house, I really didn't care.  Now?  I can't get enough.  I inhale string cheese sticks like it's the last bag on the planet and someone might steal it from me.  If the husband dare has one, I have to bite my tongue not to say "that's mine!".  If the kids ask for one, then don't eat it all?  A little bit of me dies inside.  What, too dramatic?

Perhaps you will recall about oh, 9 1/2 months or so ago I was standing in my kitchen sucking on a piece of steak that I wasn't allowed to eat yet, but needed that meat fix.  Today I can take it or leave it.  The only reason I make some kind of meat every night is basically for my husband.  My 6-year-old daughter has decided most meat is too fatty for her (a nightly battle, as she won't let any fat pass her lips and dissects her dinner with the precision of a surgeon).  My 2-year-old son is going through a phase where he eats two or three bites of whatever is on his plate that is not a vegetable, then proclaims he's "all done, get down!"  The only meatless meal I can think of that I make is some kind of pasta and sauce.

Last night Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard (or more accurately, freezer) was fairly empty, and I had no idea what meat to make.  It's grilling season, but it was a cold, cloudy day here.  So I begrudgingly took out a package of hot dogs, which I hate feeding my family and think are only acceptable on occasion, in the summer only.  Before they were all the way thawed I decided, "no, we're not having those", and put them in the refrigerator.  We had a meatless dinner.  Granted, none of it particularly went together (homemade home fries, roasted carrots and garlic, a frozen veg medley, and leftover mac salad) but the point was it was meat free.  And no one died.  Imagine that.  I've decided we're going to go meatless at least once a week, but I'll plan better for it next time so it's not just a mish-mash of whatever I throw onto a plate.  I'm thinking a quinoa dish or risotto primavera for next time.  I'll have to let you know how it goes.

We're getting ready to plant our garden.  Well, actually, the husband is presently doing the prep work as I sit here on the sunny deck and glance over there from time to time.  But when The Girl gets home from school--she wants to help--we're gonna plant that baby like it's 1999.  (That song doesn't really work anymore, but you get my point.  I think Prince should have chosen a more realistic date to party, like December 21, 2012?  Hmm?)  I'm so excited to get my veggies in the ground.  I can't wait for them to start to produce.  Having just gotten back from the grocery store and seeing the prices rise again, walking out to my backyard for my veggies is going to be such a treat to our wallet. We didn't have a garden last year, and I missed it, not just for the money saving aspect of it, but because of the satisfaction of watching it grow and saying "hey, I did that!"  This year we got the usual tomatoes, zucchini, broccoli and whatnot, but I also grabbed a few different things that we've never grown before, like sweet potatoes, cabbage and watermelon.  Nothing exotic, but new to us anyway.  And of course we'll do pumpkins.  The kids love that.  And it's nice not to have to spend upwards of $10 on a scrawny little pumpkin for them to carve come Halloween time.

So I guess that's it for now.  I'm going to sit here for the next hour, finish my iced coffee and read my book, and watch the pool boy gardener get things set up for the big gardening extravaganza.

Then I'll go take some pork out of the freezer for dinner.  I do so love the grill this time of year.

Shocking Comparison...To Me, at Least

I was going through some of my older pictures I saved on my computer (I really need to get an external drive!)  I came across some pictures of myself and my jaw dropped.  Why didn't anyone tell me I was so fat??  I mean, ok, that's not something you go around saying to people, but still.  It was a bit shocking.  Let me share:



3 months before surgery



10 months after surgery





















(I cropped the one picture of me to protect the innocent.)  Not the best pictures, I admit, but I think the difference is glaringly obvious.  Now what would happen if I actually tried to get off this plateau I'm on?  Hmmm...the world may never know.

Or maybe it will.

10 Months and Counting!

First let me just say I am so completely furious...I had an entire (long) post written, and due to "Conflicting Edits"--whatever the hell that means--it's gone.  Poof.  Sayonara.  Start again, sista.  So, here we go, attempt #2.

10 months in and I'm still discovering how this new stomach of mine works.  Well, not how it works necessarily, but what it likes and dislikes.  Apparently, it dislikes something in a recent stir fry I made, and apparently I'm a glutton for punishment  a slow learner determined because it took me three attempts at eating it to throw in the towel (it is simply delicious).  It is the Crispy Honey Chicken that I recently found, and you can find the recipe for it here on my food blog.  I'm not sure what the problem was, as I've eaten all of these foods separately before without issue, but whatever it was, it was not welcome in my stomach and was quickly evicted with little notice.  All I can figure is the dredging and subsequent pan-frying of the chicken...?  I don't usually don't do any sort of "fry" other than stir-fry, so maybe that was it.

Let's talk a little bit about summer clothes.  I am so excited to be able to wear them this year.  I recently bought a pair of denim shorts for the first time in years.  I mean years.  They look really good on me.  They feel really weird though.  I feel half naked.  Not because they are Daisy Duke short.  They're modestly mid-thigh.  It is because for said amount of multiple years I was a sweaty capri wearing girl, even in the dead heat of summer.  No more!  These (temporarily) mayonnaise-white legs are being shown to the world!  So what if they jiggle a little.  I'll pretend I don't see you noticing if you quickly avert your eyes.  Look away, look away!

Speaking of taboo clothes for this formerly hefty chick, how about tank tops?  My sister and I are heading to a concert in July, and I'm so excited I'm already planning what I'm going to wear.  Definitely wearing a tank top.  My only reservation is what I call my "wings", which will be merrily flapping in the breeze as I give Poison and/or Motley Crue my "rock on" fist (or what I think you crazy kids nowadays call the "Jersey Shore fist pump"...I abhor all things Jersey Shore, just for the record).  If anyone has any upper arm toning exercises that don't require a gym membership, feel free to share them with me!

Oh, and by the way?  Yeah, I said Poison and Motley Crue.  You can go ahead and be jealous.  This is a lifelong dream realized for me...at least the Poison part (although seeing the Crue ain't too shabby either!)  I have been a fan since I was 7 years old, and haven't looked back since.  Back in the day I had Bret Michaels (in various degrees of half-nakedness) posters plastered all over my bedroom walls, much to the chagrin of my very understanding mother. I remember my grandmother visiting and being absolutely appalled over a huge poster of Bret lounging poolside in nothing but a banana hammock.  I'll never forget that as long as I live!  You're looking at a hardcore 80s metal hair band chick right here.  Some days I even miss my stone-washed jean jacket with the white leather fringe...ok, maybe not, but I just gave myself a good chuckle remembering how much I loved that jacket!

So until I can regal you with stories of my experience at the concert, you can get your Poison fix here and your Crue fix here .  Big Aqua Net hair and leather boots optional.

Fatty McButterpants

I'm having one of those days where I just feel like Fatty McButterpants.  Know what I mean?  This seemed appropriate.

(bluntcard.com is delightfully rude, if you're into that kind of humor)



Sounds Like More Excuses to Me

It has come to my attention that it's been a month since I've posted.  A MONTH.  I continually find myself in the state of "where is the time going?"

My weight loss is at a plateau.  Now it's time to actually work on it.  I bought a pair of Sketchers Tone Ups (the store I was at didn't have the Shape Ups in my size).  I love these sneakers.  I've never worn a more comfortable, light-weight sneaker.  They even have little holes near the toes for what I call the "air conditioning effect".  They allow your cooling air into your shoes while you walk.

That being said....I have to actually go for a walk.  I'm not talking about wearing them shopping or for whatever other errands I need to run.  I mean an actual "I'm exercising on purpose" walk.  Last time I talked about wanting to go for a run.  I still want to.  But I have to get the proper clothes to do that.  Scoff if you will, but when I ran across the yard with my daughter and my pants literally ended up around my calves (you're welcome for that image), I knew I couldn't go for a run until I go clothes shopping.  Ditto for a good sports bra.  I don't mean my bra ended up around my calves (how's that for an image?!)  I mean I have to get one.  Even though the girls have shrunk, they still have that uncomfortable bounce action going on.  Again, you're welcome.  No one said this was gonna be pretty!

One other obstacle to overcome is seasonal allergies.  I'm dying over here.  I took the kids outside to play yesterday and ended up in the house a half hour later.  And that's with allergy medicine.  Money is tight, as with everyone these days.  A gym membership is just not a realistic expense at this time.  I love spring, but I hate the allergies that come with it. 

The Little Things

It's the little things that tickle me.

Little things that I notice about myself since losing weight.

I have one chin.

I have a collarbone.  I have bones in my shoulders.  I have tendons behind my knees (noticed while shaving my legs in the shower) and it's hard to shave around my ankle because there's an indentation behind the ankle bone.

I have knuckles.  I am wearing rings on fingers I never thought I would.  I have bones in my wrists.  Hip bones?  I have them.  Prominant rib cage...when I'm laying down, but it's there.

I'm not short-winded.  It takes a lot more to wear me out, my endurance and stamina are high.  I can shop all day without blinking an eye.  My feet get tired before I do.

I love the way my husband looks at me, and calls me "Skinny Lady" or his tiny woman, and when he hugs me his arms wrap all the way around me.  He commented the other day on my "chicken legs" with his trademark smirk.  He can pick me up now, and we surprised the kids when he walked into the kitchen with him giving me a piggy-back ride.  He even asked me if I'm wearing a bikini this summer.  HA!!  Yeah, right...NOT happening!  I may be thinner, but I'm certainly not bikini thin!  But the thought behind it makes me pretty happy.

I also have noticed little things that don't tickle me so much, and that's mostly about flabby skin.  Namely my wings.  However, these lovely flappy wings of mine are not going to stop me from wearing sleeveless shirts this summer.  I haven't gone sleeveless in public since high school, and I thought I was a cow then so I rarely did it then either.

You always hear how it's about the little things in life...it's true.

Good Enough to Eat

Last week I bought a book from amazon.com that I was really looking forward to reading.  Bonus, it was on sale.

  It came yesterday.  I started reading it last night before I went to bed, and I haven't wanted to put it down since.  It's called "Good Enough to Eat" by Stacey Ballis.  It is about a woman who sheds 145 lbs., starts leading a healthier life, has her husband leave her for a fat woman, and has to rebuild her life.  This character thinks almost exactly like I do.  Obsessions with food, relationships with other people....

As my son is taking his nap, I'm reading more of the book.  I came upon this part, and feel I have to share because in a nutshell, it's how I feel.

"I run a hot bath for myself, and as it fills, I let my robe drop to the floor and look at myself in the mirror.  I have a good face, not beautiful, at least not to me, but reasonably attractively put together, handsome.  But my body bears the scars of a lifetime of obesity.  White stretch marks line the front of my stomach, my thighs, striate my breasts, which were once a lush 42DDD and are now a 36D, hanging deflated, defeated.  The skin of my upper arms, my inner thighs, and over my abdomen is loose, and while there is excellent muscle tone underneath, the skin, which once was taut over soft pillows of fat, now slides in waves over the space I worked so long to create...My butt, which once loomed in a massive shelf jutting out over my lower back like the stern of a proud sailing vessel, has somehow dropped into a sad double teardrop.  ...With the right bra, I have a great rack.  But naked, naked I look like a newborn bird without feathers; something is not quite finished about me.  I never wanted to get the excess skin removal surgery; it is costly and debilitating.  But I also never really thought about being here.  In this place.....But I feel like a fraud.  Because however good I look dressed, however normal I appear to be in public, once you strip me down, I have essentially the body of an old woman."

I can't wait to finish this book, yet I don't want it to end.

You can find it here:  http://www.amazon.com/Good-Enough-Eat-Stacey-Ballis/dp/B004LQ0EFA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1302106851&sr=1-1