Library Lo sent me this picture, it was on one of those funny things people forward to all their friends with cool pictures captioned with something motivational. This one is called, of course, Believe in Yourself.
For years, the Kat that lives in my head has been a svelte size 8, with perfect hair and small feet. The fact that I haven't been a size 8 since Junior High, have seen maybe 4 perfect hair days in 47 years and have average sized feet that are nearly as wide as they are long, makes no difference. I have been known to catch sight of myself in a store window and recognize it as me only because the reflection is wearing the same clothes I am. So I like this picture, because for once the mirror isn't betraying someone, it's reflecting this internal kitty.
I'm not sure when certain of my body parts decided to move south of their assigned places, but evacuate they did. Dressing around the effects of gravity, (pepsi, hohos, ice cream) and five children is an adventure. Especially when your head still thinks you look like the Disco Queen you were in 1979. Most shopping trips include me trotting back to the dressing room with a lovely selection of cropped and spaghetti strapped tops, then slouching back out to fetch the St. John's Bay practical middled aged t-shirts that actually fit me.
Princess and I refuse to believe there is any size larger than extra large. That's the only thing saving me from needing a cattle scale to weigh in, I don't want to disappoint her by moving into the dreaded 1X, so I do apply myself to healthy eating when I'm busting the seams on those XLs.
I've always had bad eating habits. I hate to cook, so whatever is close at hand is what I'll eat. This is complicated by the fact that I have an addictive personality. I eat oatmeal for breakfast every single morning. If Pap fails to replace my oatmeal and I run out, I'll fret for several days and eat nothing. If he goes too long and doesn't replace it, I'll eat whatever is easy: half a jar of chocolate fudge, popcorn, left over cake. We live in a small town with no fast food restraunts, so anytime we went to the city we'd eat at McDonald's. Well now I go to the city two or three times a week and I can't drive past the McD's, I have to stop. I have eaten the same thing there for years (#2 with diet coke). As slovenly and self-indulgent as this all sounds, there is good news regarding my examination of my eating habits. I don't really care if it's healthy food or junk food, to me food is only fuel. I want it fast, I don't want to have to cook it myself, and I lack a goumets palate. I'm happy to eat the same thing every day for months. I just have to figure out three healthy meals and two snacks that I can eat every day until I'm skinny.
Until that skinny day, I don't really bug on my weight. It's just a number. If it weren't for the fact that I feel like lugging around a bunch of extra pounds is the same as playing russion roulette, I wouldn't care at all.