This entire week has been both busy and unlucky, but I'm thankful for the pelasent family downtime. I got in a car accident (it was his fault, not mine), so I'm dealing with the unpleasantness of insurance claims. My favorite uncle came to visit from Florida with his wife and new baby, which made the estrogen levels in my family hit an all time high (they are suffering from baby fever). My little sister and her army husband are staying in town before they are both transferred to Korea before Christmas. My 26th birthday is next week, and I'm excited to see what I'm going to get. Yesterday, I got stung in the finger by a bee and the swelling is slowing the process of my home made Christmas cards. There are a lot of friends and family coming and going this year, so it's almost time to make the rounds.
Last week I went outlet shopping with my baby fevered family, and I found a $60 pair of Lane Bryant jeans for $29. I bought a size 20 long, thinking this is going to be the last pair of fat pants I purchase and I need a nice pair for holiday togetherness (aka: pictures). I didn't try them on because I'm confident that 20's will be fine since my 18's are a little too tight, and my thighs felt sweaty from shopping. I tried the jeans on the next day, and they're too fucking small. I mean, I can zip them up, but they are by no means flattering. I'm considering exchanging them for a larger size, but that makes me want to kick myself in the ass for being in a size 22 jeans again. I never feel as fat as I am until I go shopping for new clothes.
Until 2011 ends, I'm going to stuff myself with turkey and cheesecakes and lemon bars and sweet potatoes, and I'm not going to feel the least bit guilty. This is the stuffin' shuffle. Or stuffing shovel. There's really no difference. My sister and I constantly joke with our chins pressed to our chests about eating our feelings, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to eat every feeling I have. I'm going to mix my adult beverages with real sodas, not diet, and I'm going to enjoy full flavored beers before I trade them in for bottles of wine. This is my last big fat hurrah before the new year starts, and some of my bad habits come to an end, yet again.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Friday, November 18, 2011
A Fat Family History
I was raised on biscuits, grits, fried eggs and bacon on a country culdesac in east Texas. It was a couple of acres of land roaming with dogs and chickens, and I love my memories of growing up in the same house my mother did. I inherited my green eyes and curly hair from my mother, and my knack for hands on creativity from my grandmother. My younger sisters and I were loved equally and frequently. We were raised to mind our manners, and we were not to leave the kitchen table until we finished what was on our plates. We were all comforted by the softness of my grandmothers underarm, and the warmness of my mothers embrace. Their big soft bodies never registered with me as grotesque, but rather comforting. By the time I hit 16, I was as big as, and eventually bigger than, they were. It didn't register as a health problem because the most influential women in my life were fat, and they were wonderful. To love and be loved is to be blissfully blind to a lot of things.
It's easy, and false, to assume that if your parents are fat, than you're destined to be fat too. It is true that if a parent is plump, there is a 50% chance that the child will be also. Most important are that there are environmental effects that change that outcome (diet and exercise...duh). Although there are some very rare and extreme cases that can be blamed on a genetic mutation, that's not the case for most of us. If you're more interested in the link between genetics and obesity, the centers for disease control and prevention have an interesting article here: http://www.cdc.gov/Features/Obesity/
My family does not have a history of diabetes or heart disease. I have regular blood pressure and blood sugar, and I happen to know that my iron count is excellent (whatever the hell that meas). In those areas, I'm very lucky, but I do struggle with weight loss. This is because of unhealthy habits and lists of excuses, not because of any major medical setback.
It's easy, and false, to assume that if your parents are fat, than you're destined to be fat too. It is true that if a parent is plump, there is a 50% chance that the child will be also. Most important are that there are environmental effects that change that outcome (diet and exercise...duh). Although there are some very rare and extreme cases that can be blamed on a genetic mutation, that's not the case for most of us. If you're more interested in the link between genetics and obesity, the centers for disease control and prevention have an interesting article here: http://www.cdc.gov/Features/Obesity/
My family does not have a history of diabetes or heart disease. I have regular blood pressure and blood sugar, and I happen to know that my iron count is excellent (whatever the hell that meas). In those areas, I'm very lucky, but I do struggle with weight loss. This is because of unhealthy habits and lists of excuses, not because of any major medical setback.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Hello, My Name Is Kristin, And I'm Fat.
I'm pretty smart, pretty funny, pretty awesome, and I'm pretty fat. I'm a pretty fat white girl. If you like numbers, I'm 25 years old, 5'10", 270lbs. Size 20 jeans. I wear an impossible bra size 40B, XXL shirts to hide my belly. I have stretch marks on almost every part of my body: white, pink, and red. This is not the most I've ever weighed: I topped out at a very round 330lbs.
There are some people who would say "that's disgusting, how could you let yourself get like that?" These people have never struggled with obesity. The people that fret about gaining, loosing, or maintaining the same dreaded 10 pounds that everybody struggles with.
Then there are people almost or around 100 pounds or more overweight. These people gain and loose 50 or more pounds like it ain't no thang. These are my people. These are the weighty warriors. We fight constantly, a battle we wage on ourselves. Win or loose, it's a fascinating process.
A few summers ago, I dropped a bunch of weight and got down to a blissful 180, and a perfect (for me) size 14 jeans. The weight was lost naturally, through diet and exercise: the good ole' fashioned way. 4 years passed and I find myself quickly approaching that dreaded 300 pounds again, something I said I would never let happen. I've lost the weight before, and I'm about to do it again. Any questions?
There are some people who would say "that's disgusting, how could you let yourself get like that?" These people have never struggled with obesity. The people that fret about gaining, loosing, or maintaining the same dreaded 10 pounds that everybody struggles with.
Then there are people almost or around 100 pounds or more overweight. These people gain and loose 50 or more pounds like it ain't no thang. These are my people. These are the weighty warriors. We fight constantly, a battle we wage on ourselves. Win or loose, it's a fascinating process.
A few summers ago, I dropped a bunch of weight and got down to a blissful 180, and a perfect (for me) size 14 jeans. The weight was lost naturally, through diet and exercise: the good ole' fashioned way. 4 years passed and I find myself quickly approaching that dreaded 300 pounds again, something I said I would never let happen. I've lost the weight before, and I'm about to do it again. Any questions?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)