A Little Inspiration

As some of y'all know, I've been working out and dieting like is my job. What most of you do not know is that I have received many e-mails, texts and phones calls from a lot of people asking about the program I was doing and sharing their own story of struggle with me. Guys, I am not a weepy person but one person has been on my mind for days now and even now I get tears in my eyes thinking how truly hard we are on ourselves. For years, I was a big girl and made 101 excuses as to why I couldn't lose weight (kept me warm in the winter), couldn't diet (food loved my fat ass) and resigned myself to the fact that since I was someone's mother I shouldn't bother looking good. It was such a bunch of bullshit I fed to myself rather than do all the things I needed to do. I was miserable and hated what I saw when I looked in the mirror. I can tell you now that there is a period of time in my life that there are no pictures of me because I hated what I saw. And then I just got tired of feeling sorry for myself. I got tired of being the fat girl with the hot husband. You know, the girl you look at and wonder what her husband is doing with her? That was me. So I made promises to myself that - since I wasn't having anymore kids - I'd lose the weight even if it killed me. I made small, feasible goals (walk a mile), started to eat smaller portions of the same crap I always ate (counted for something) and told myself that I wouldn't give up this time. And then my friend Kristin took charge and offered to train a group of us for 12 weeks - show us the basics of weights, put us on this 1200 calorie/day diet and promised to get us results. The woman doesn't coddle at all. She's awesome and has whipped my ass into possibly the best shape of my life. I'm strong and feel good about my body. I have my confidence back - it has been gone for a long time. And I actually stuck with this, which shocked the hell out of me. To my friend who I know will read this, I want you to know I will be with you every step of the way on your journey. We were never close, but I have been where you are and support you. It will not come overnight, I started working out back in December and am on week 7 or my fitness program - you have a ways to go. But I'm here and I do believe in you. We are all so hard on ourselves at times, we don't have enough faith in ourselves and overall we just don't love who we are. I have been so fortunate to have a great group of people cheering me on and it has made all those times that I've wanted to quit so much easier. My motivation has been to not let myself or my cheering crew down....but man, I miss doughnuts! I like what I see when I look in the mirror...now to work on my forgiveness and grudge holding. Eh, maybe later.

And So We Meet...

Ah, Saturday morning. While most people look forward to the weekends, I often dread it. Everyone is home, stuff still needs to be done around the house and my husband either manages to disappear (he's currently at the gym) or plants his ass on the couch and watch whatever sport is currently on (it's the ACC tournament this weekend I've been informed). So me and the kiddos usually hit the park or whatever else we can manage to find while Bruce Wayne stays in the Batcave.
This month marks 10 years that Jimmy and I have been together. Ten years. Ten of the damn longest years of my life. I mean we've only been married almost six (yes, I was totally pregnant when we got married), but we've been together a total of 10.
Ten years ago this month I met the man I would marry, have three kids with and seriously contemplate murdering on a weekly basis. It has been a hell of a ride.
So I figured I'd share how I first met Jimmy. It's not a great story but it's ours.
I use to sell temporary labor and was asked to come by the company Jimmy worked for at the time. Something I didn't know - Jimmy's co-worker had seen me before and was trying to set me up with Jimmy. For once in my life, I got somewhere early and gave my pitch and went to leave. Chris told me to wait for Jimmy to come back since he's the one I'd be directly dealing with. Not a problem. So I sat and waited and waited and waited. And then the door flew open and in walked this really tall handsome man. I remember watching him having to duck his head as he walked through the doorway. I was at a loss for words for once in my life. For he looked nothing like I imagined and I have it bad for tall men. As awful as I make my husband sound, he is a good looking man. And I gawked at him the first time I ever met him. And then he opened his mouth and introduced himself and out came the most charming southern accent that you ever did hear.
That pretty much awoke me from my shock. I asked him where the hell was he from to sound so...hick. He laughed and told me North Carolina. And then he told me that I didn't look at all Vietnamese. And that's when I knew that I had been set up...but was strangely okay with it.
We chatted and made plans to go to dinner to discuss business (yeah right!) and even exchanged phone numbers. He was so charming and has such an aw shucks manner that I was just enchanted. It would be probably three weeks before we went on our first official date and two weeks after that that I knew he was "the one" - but man, I just remember how shaking his hand was such a thrill. The man was hot.
Did I mention I was dating some schmuck at the time? Eh, I didn't care either.
So that's it. Ten years, three kids, countless of fights and memories as well as some laughter. That charming southern accent tends to grate on my nerves at times now - especially since my daughter has picked it up. He's still a good looking man - at least that hasn't changed. Oh and he's still tall and has all his hair.
He's also currently back from the gym and has planted his ass on the couch for the rest of the day. Taking the kids to the park now.