Either my scale broke or I am finally comfortable in this newish body.
My body has finally decided that the 108 - 111 lb range suits it. I haven't dropped below or gone above those numbers in over two months. I had managed to make it back to my old weight of the 130s in July, but ended up losing it all with the new meds I was given in August. Meds which I will be on forever unless something extreme happens. [a miracle] I was happy to see I could gain the weight, but resigned myself that I wasn't going to weigh near that again unless the miracle happens or a new med comes along and it makes me gain weight.
Here is where I think my scale is funky tho'. Then again, it might be me. As you know I have to weigh myself everyday. Happily, I continue to fall between those numbers, no drastic changes, so no dangers going on inside of me. I am still wearing 1s and 2s, with the 3s and 4s hanging in there, [pun intended], but with a belt or thick tights they stay on.
Still? I know I am thin, I just don't feel like 110 lbs. I feel more like 120, 125. Does that make sense? I am starting to feel "love handley". Weird wording, but I don't know how else to explain it. I have that wee little over hang on my jeans when I put them on, but if I went a size bigger they would fall off. I have never been one to worry about being overweight, but I do like to have some curves so I look like a woman, not a 7th grade boy. I like to give the family, especially Pooldad ::wink::, something to hug and hang onto. I think a better way to describe it is when I first dropped all the weight in March/April I remember hitting 110 lbs and how gaunt and bony I appeared. You could see every single one of my ribs, every vertebrae in my spine and my shoulders took on the blade look they are so aptly named for, they cut such sharp angles. Now I have cushion. I can still feel it when Pooldad rubs my back and his fingers bump over my rib cage, but I can't see my ribcage stick out anymore. My feet are still narrower than ever before but my legs seemed to have filled out, especially my thighs. They even jiggle a bit. There is a layer of body fat there. Pooldad isn't afraid to touch me now, like the first time I dropped to 110 lbs. Back then he had to finally admit to me why he wouldn't touch me. He told me he was afraid to get near me in bed or on the couch because he seriously thought he would break one of my bones. He paid me a sweet compliment in the store the other day. After following me for a few aisles he remarked "Nice to see your butt making a comeback." ::BIG GRIN:: That is a high compliment to me, a woman who never really had a rear end even when I was my regular weight.
That is why I thought that stupid scale is broken. I have to weigh more than 110. Right? The problem is I weighed myself at my doctor's [both of them] and there it is - 109 on one scale, 111 on another. Where were the pounds hiding in March when I went to 110? Same weight, but different body appearance. Or am I just imagining this? Is it that I was so shocked to be 62 lbs lighter,[down from the 172 lbs I weighed from fluid gain due to my heart], I thought I was skinnier at that 110 than the 110 I am now? Or have I just begun to accept [resign myself to] this weight? Am I seeing this 110 as healthy, and dare I say, attractive, instead of the scary ugly I saw in the 110 in March?
Is my mind playing tricks on me? Or is my brain telling me to let it go and enjoy it? I can never forget about my weight and I empathize with anyone who has to weigh themselves everyday. It sucks. I know I bring up the subject of my weight often, and it would make great sense if this blog was about weight loss or weight gain, but it isn't. It is about my life, my family and the everyday-ness of it. Unfortunately that everyday includes that scale and making sure it stays steady. Any drastic change, and by drastic it is simply a 3 lb + gain overnight or 5 lb+ in one week, and I am in the doctor's office or the emergency room within the hour. Thankfully that hasn't happened, I am so blessed, but it still colors my thoughts each morning. I am unable to step off the scale without some additional thought to it. I walk out of the bathroom and Pooldad's first question is always "How much do you weigh?" He asks me the same three questions everyday, the trifecta equivalent of "I love you" I suppose, heehee, and they are always about my weight, whether I have taken my pills and basically, how am I doing with the pain. A perfect day's responses are "The same", "yes" and "great".
I know this is a stupid thing to write a post about, but I make no apologies, because I am just fleshing out my thoughts on "paper". [Get it? "Fleshing out"? giggle - pun not really intended, but I couldn't think of a better way to put it. It was the first thing that came to mind.] I do keep a handwritten journal, but that is even more boring than my blog. It is actually details of my everyday that I write to have on hand when one of my doctors asks me a specific, like "When did you last eat X, Y or Z" or "What was your pain like when you did A, B or C?" I not only have less of a memory due to age, but I think the amount of meds and the types I have been taking have greatly affected my memory too. The paper journal is a gift to me and the doctor's visits. They can't doubt what I say and I don't doubt myself either.
Besides making no apologies for this post, to tell you the truth you should probably thank me. I have written 6 or 7 posts in the past two days and I thought those were so insipid I shelved them in "drafts." If Pooldad and the girls are ever able to figure out how to access my blog after I am gone they will have some spectacularly bad posts to read that I never published. HA! I am burning the paper journals before my last visit to the hospital. ::wink:: I am no fool, there are a few things in there than my noshing or activities y'know.
Here it is 5 am. I haven't been awake at 5 am since Christmas morning, and hardly a day before that during December. In fact, I haven't been to morning Mass in a few weeks. The holidays exhausted me. It wasn't even really everything I did [or didn't do] it was just the whole idea of the holiday that wore me out. Trying to juggle all the visiting, gift buying, card writing [or lack of some], the travelling, food, menus, cookies, office and school parties - just the mere act of remembering and forgetting so much made me sleep. A lot. And I found myself sleeping through our daily 6:45 am Mass. I had a three month streak going and then the second week of December, poof! I started to sleep in everyday. Turns out I was missed - there aren't that many of us at 6:45 you understand. It is a bit early for, well...everyone. heehee One of the priests said a Mass just for me because he was worried I had taken a turn. I actually returned to the daily Mass a few days after he did that one and I was so surprised when he told me. I have never had something like that before and I was so, so touched that he thought of me. I didn't even realize any of them knew me or our family. We do greet them all the clergy after Sunday Mass and holy days of obligation [we have three resident priests at our parish] and I am in Catholic education class [I will be confirmed in the faith March 30th - I am very excited about that, being married to a Catholic] - but my point is, I didn't realize I wasn't just a face to Father Xxx. As I said, quite touched.
Anyhoodle - pointing out the time like that is a nice segue to say g'night, or happy morning because I am going to go make the lunches, the coffee and breakfast before I head off to early Mass. It will be a nice start to my day.
I hope y'all have a wonderful day and it is filled with all the blessings you could hope for and too many smiles your way to count them all. If you don't see too many smiles then try this - smile at someone you don't know or a passing acquaintance at work, just random person perhaps. And I just bet, in some small way, you will make their day a little bit sunnier too, because who can resist a sincere smile? I know that whenever I am feeling a little down - all I have to do is get in my car [that alone makes me happy, but. . .] or go for a walk with my dog and smile at someone. Anyone. 8 times out of 10 I get a smile back. Usually they also look a little quizzical, trying to place me, but mostly they just look happier. Not so deep in thought or worry anymore - just smiling. Try it.
Trust me. It works.
And remember - Smile LOUD! Life is a GIFT. :D
See ya' on flipside Tadpoles.