Because I have no one to blame but myself. Day 4

167. My own fault though. It was the brownies and ice cream I had after dinner.

In other news:

Both Wee One and I have been sick all week. Fun. Clingy, sad baby makes me feel bad. I can't seem to make it any better. I'm starting to feel a little better, but I think she's still stuck in the middle of it, poor thing. I'm a bad mom, I just want to take the batteries out so I can be sick. I may be too self-centered to be a mom some days.

I have discovered a show that's even better than Cops. Inside America Jail follows the booking process. Talk about great American television.

I've done ten loads of laundry in the last two days. This is what happens when no laundry gets done for almost three weeks. I hate laundry. It is the domestic equivalent of having teeth pulled. I also have yet to fold any of said laundry, so if you plan on visiting in the next day or two don't expect to have somewhere to sit, my couches are otherwise occupied.

I have also worked out a mental game plan to find skinny me, however, I am not yet willing to commit so it will have to wait. Accountability, even to you interwebs, sort of blows.

Because I have no one to blame but myself. Day 3

167. Stupid. Seriously stupid. I'm thinking maybe it's time to consider adding exercise or something of the like to the mix. Jillian Michael's 30 day Shred makes quite the promises. And yes, I totally had pizza for dinner.

Because I have no one to blame but myself. Day 2

167. It's the freakin' frosting from yesterday, I swear. No more frosting.

Because I have no one to blame but myself

Dearest Interwebs;

I have a few confessions to make, (and since only one person reads this, I don't have to fear that my confessions will get too far), I'm fat, I miss being skinny, and I have no one to blame but myself.

I spent most of my life being fat. There were girls who called me "chubbo", talk about a blow to one's self-esteem. Then, one day I got skinny. And by one day, I actually mean one year. My senior year in high school to be exact. Anyways I'm getting sidetracked here, I got skinny, mostly because I was super busy and had virtually no time to eat, and I slowly got smaller. Now, I feel it should be admitted that by skinny, I mean skinny for me, not actually skinny, just nearly normal.

I really liked being skinny. It made me feel good. For the first time in my life I liked to shop. Clothes were finally fun. I spent a ridiculous amount of money dressing my new frame, and man it was fun. Now, flash forward a few years, I was the smallest I had ever been when I got engaged. I wore a wedding dress in a size that made me proud. Then, interwebs, it happened. I got married and I got fat.

Now it didn't happen overnight, but slowly over time, I got fat. Married introduced schedule into my eating world, schedule that I hadn't had for years. Scheduled eating of not so good for me foods made me fat. Then, to make matters worse, I got pregnant. Pregnant made me fat too, not nearly as fat as it should have because Wee One decided five weeks early was a good time to be born, but trust me that's another post entirely.

To recap: fat, skinny, married, fat, pregnant. Brings us to right now. I'm still fat, though just married fat, I have thankfully lost all the pregnant weight, not because I worked at it but because of the early arrival. And I can't seem to get skinny, but as I mentioned before I have absolutely no one to blame but myself. Well, myself and the cupcakes, chocolate, cookies, cheeseburgers, fries, ice cream, and frosting. Oh how I love frosting, the good homemade stuff right out of a piping bag.

So that brings me to you interwebs. I am now making myself accountable to you. I am vowing publicly to find that skinny girl I like so much. Now, let's not get carried away with this, I am not going to swear off all chocolate for forever, simply to only eat one piece instead of the entire giant bar. I also suppose it wouldn't kill me to eat a carrot every now and then.

I'm not dumb, I don't think a vow to the internet one lonely night will magically fix everything, but I'm pretty sure I know what will, publicly declaring my weight, on a daily basis. So, here we go: 165. Ouch that hurt. Some days you may get snarky to go with the number, but the number will always be there.

Because I have no self control

Dear Get Skinny goals:

You firmly flew out the window this morning when I opted for cookie dough and Diet Coke for breakfast. I'm sorry. I truly am. I am hopeful that I will begin to edge back to my skinny jeans one day, apparently today is simply not meant to be that day.

Heart,

Stacy

P.S. Cookie Dough, I adore you.

Because it's been so long

I watch more Cops than could possibly be considered normal. And I judge the quality of my life based off of the show. Truly does wonders for any perceived dysfunction regarding my marriage.

That's all.