“Tonight, old man, you did it! You did it! You did it! You said that you would do it, And indeed you did. I thought that you would rue it; I doubted you’d do it. But now I must admit it That succeed you did…”
Why you may ask am I channeling Mr. Pickering and Professor Higgins’ “victory song” from My Fair Lady? Well, first of all it’s one of my favorite musicals and always worth quoting, but most importantly, because I’m celebrating my own victory! At last I DID IT! I’ve finally reached my goal! 72 lbs. lost and weighing the same as I did when Mr. T and I were married! And like the words to that wonderful song, I often doubted I’d do it, but succeed I did!
I have declared myself the unofficial Queen of Thrift Shopping! I have always been a thrifty shopper, whether it be for groceries, household goods or clothing. I’ve come to enjoy shopping that way, considering it a challenge to find the best deal possible for the best quality possible. Over the years I’ve developed a pretty good instinct and eye and brought home some great deals. Saving $150 in coupons on groceries, cutting my make-up bill in half at Ulta, finding that clearance top for $.49 at Ross last Spring, whatever I’m shopping for, I’ve tried to learn to use my money wisely.
Mother’s Day has come and gone. I’m sure for most of you it’s already a faint memory and you’ve moved on to planning for the upcoming Memorial Day weekend. But, I will admit that Mother’s Day weekend is still running through my mind and heart like toddlers through a playground.
Does it seem like it’s been a while since I’ve posted? Well, it has. And the reason is simple – I’ve been all “tuckered” out – literally!
Meet the newest member of our family, Tucker, a Morkie (maltese/yorkie) puppy who joined our family March 4. Tucker is sweet, lovable, playful and ALL puppy! Having raised 5 kids, let me say he has been very much like having a new baby and a toddler in the house at the same time – no sleep and taking up most of my days chasing after him saying “No Tucker”, “Down Tucker”, “Don’t Tucker.” Even as I sat down to write, he plopped his furry little bottom squarely on the the keyboard, looked up and gave me a kiss on the nose as he settled in to get comfy. (This is his favorite spot when I dare to pull out my laptop.) It’s exhausting, but I’m loving it and loving him!
It’s been five months since my surgery. A lot has changed since then. I’ve lost 58 pounds. I’ve gone from a size 1x/2x to having 2 out of the 3 pairs of jeans in my drawer being a size 4. I exercise at least 3 days a week without it leaving me dying on the couch. I’m wearing my wedding rings again, which I haven’t been able to get on in over seven years. Protein has become my best friend and I haven’t touched soda even once in all these months. But, I’ve also discovered there are some things that have not changed. Some parts of the old me that still seem to be hanging on and don’t want to let go.
I have issues. I know you are all shaking your heads saying I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. But, I’m not referring to those issues! I’m talking about HAIR issues! I am having serious hair issues!
It’s hard to believe that it’s been over four months since my surgery! It’s been like planning for a wedding or Christmas. You plan and plan, and wait and wait for the big day, it feels like it will never get there, and then the next thing you know the day has not only come and gone, but it’s four months later!
Two weeks ago somebody threw a blanket over me. A big one – like North Dakota. And a heavy one – like a Mac truck. And it was wet and itchy and dark and smelly. As it covered my eyes, I couldn’t see the light and beauty around me. As it covered my ears, I couldn’t hear joy or laughter or singing. As it covered my mouth, I couldn’t express what I was feeling, experiencing or needing. Like Linus from the Peanuts, this blanket had followed me around for many years. It had never truly been far from my sight. My blanket even had a name. It was called “Depression”.
Ladies and gentleman, fasten your seat belts, please! We are now entering the RED ZONE! No, I don’t mean the area lit up by Rudolph’s red nose. I’m talking about the danger zone for those of trying our hardest to look a little bit less like Jolly Old Saint Nick!
Another Christmas morning, and as usual, I’m the first one up, me and the tiny furball I have curled in my arms. As we near the bottom of the stairs he wiggles to get loose. I can feel the excitement coming off of his little 6 lb. body. He reaches up and kisses my nose and I laugh. “Be patient, Baxi! I know you’re excited,” I tell him, “but you’ve got to go potty first.” I carry him straight to the door knowing if I put him down too soon he’ll head straight to the Christmas tree. Baxter loves Christmas!