July Progress Numbers and Wrap Up

I didn't intend for this to be almost a week late, but once again, life has proven itself to be unpredictable and crazy.  I didn't get as many pictures this month either, but that's probably because my hair has looked like ass.  Thanks, humidity!

Let's get to the numbers, as I am SUPER excited!  I finally broke my 2 month gain/plateau, and it feels amazing.  I am one pound away from the lowest Weight Watchers number back in 2009, and then my first huge goal is ridiculously attainable.  

Weight:  -3
2014 Weight loss: 14 pounds
Weight loss:  55 pounds

Back on track!  Hooray!  It's even more exciting since I've barely been able to get to the gym more than once a week.  I want to, but I have a lot of family crap going on right now.  That crap has been like a domino effect since May.

July 4 was a lot of fun.  I don't even think I overate!

Like kids again with sparklers!  It was such a beautiful day.  

I've been making more of an effort to get outside this summer.  I'm crazy busy at my new job now, but I make a point to go outside for at least 5-10 minutes every day, even just to walk the big parking lot while checking my phone.  The burst of vitamin D feels good.

Not weight loss related, but I upgraded to a 5C and it's so prettyyyyy.  I named it Miss Hedwig.  Yes, I name my gadgets, what of it?  I had to take a picture since my color/style coordination was a complete coincidence.  This phone is so much faster and has a great camera, so it will be helpful as a weight loss tool.

Wearing a shirt that used to make me look like a puffball.  I look upset, but I was actually surprised.

The day I got back on track with my running...only to be forced off again shortly thereafter.  Sigh.

We went to NYC to see Rocky: The Musical for a second time before it closes in mid-August.  Yes, that's my husband standing next to me- he approved the use of this picture.  A friend took this sneak shot of me wildly gesturing while talking to Rocky himself, Andy Karl.  Yeah, I'm pretty dramatic.  Shocking, huh?  I was surprised at how much I actually like this picture of me.  I actually don't mind the way my back looks.  And of course I'm going to like any picture involving me and Andy.  This was also the day that we ran throughout the city as I discussed in my last entry.

We saw Of Mice and Men with James Franco and Chris O'Dowd that night.  Of course I had to stage door, especially considering Franco's obsession with Instagram and selfies.  The security actually briefed the crowd on how to take a proper selfie.  LOLZ forever.  I took a bunch of pix of him looking like a slithering creepoid in his hat and glasses as he slithered past everyone, but I'm going to post this one as I'm doing the OMGJAMESFRANCO face.  He's been on my top 10 for years.  Freaks & Geeks forever, man.

My last post involved a comparison picture of 2011 vs 2014, and I'd like to post a bigger version of the recent 2014 pic.

I don't know why I had an obsession with spaghetti straps when there was so much fat on my upper body.  It's nice to see that it doesn't look like the straps are disappearing anymore.  Mind you, I do have thick bra straps in this recent shot.  Is it wrong that I don't care about bra straps when I'm not at work?  I try to make sure that they match or blend with the shirt...

Total awesomeness.  The left picture was in 2011 (the same vacation as the above comparison picture), and now the shorts are falling off me.  My black shorts are in hot pursuit.  

Perhaps my biggest NSV in awhile.  I could never wear those exercise shorts outside the house for years since they would always ride up my thighs.  Now they're loose and I could go to the gym in them while stopping to do a couple errands on the way home.  That was an awesome feeling.  Stacy London and Clinton Kelly would be pissed at me for going out and about in this outfit, but I don't care...it felt good!

Hoping to have another picture after the treadmill this month, and hoping that it won't be just one time!  I need August to pick up.  I can't believe we're in the 8th month.  Where the HELL is time going?

"Running to the future, with you right by my side"

I'm really not much of a runner.

I can actually get up to 4 mph now on the treadmill, but it's not one of my favorite pastimes.  I enjoy the challenge, but as of now, I'm just doing it to gain endurance, burn calories, and strengthen my lungs and heart.  It doesn't really give me a high right now or feed my soul like I see it do for other true runners.  I just stick to the treadmill for now because I won't overdo my pace and get tired early.

I jog because it's something I never thought I was capable of doing.  In high school, I had around a 12-14 minute mile and was always one of the last stragglers during the required phys ed mile test.  Mind you, I was also around 160 pounds back then.

Over the years, my endurance grew very poor, especially with the weight gain and poor choices.  If I had to run down a train platform (especially in the cold weather), I would be out of breath and coughing for most of the 90 minute ride.  Getting up and down multiple subway steps while carrying luggage almost made me pass out one day.  I had to call a friend to come save me.  It was humiliating, but in a small defense, I was getting turned around in circles and ended up in Brooklyn at one point.

I quickly lost 45 pounds in 2009 when doing Weight Watchers.  I only focused on points rather than integrating exercise.  My mother's death at the end of 2010 broke my plateau for the worst.  I had gained back about 15 pounds by that point, but I packed it all back on by the end of 2011.  We got engaged in November 2011 and married in April 2012.  I started a new job after the honeymoon and gained another 7 pounds by my friend's wedding in July 2012.  As you know, if you read my first post, November 2012 was my breaking point and I officially began my current journey in January 2013.

My mother died on a chilly, but clear, December night.  It was 3 weeks after my 30th birthday.  She had chronic Multiple Sclerosis for over 30 years and went into the ER on Friday for a minor emergency we thought would be cleared after the weekend.  She went into cardiac arrest on Saturday afternoon, and the next 7 hours of my life were a surreal nightmare.  She died at 12:35 am on Sunday morning.

We had gone home around 9 pm to pick up meds, phone chargers, and to try and get a little bit of sleep.  Naturally, we weren't sleeping.  We were in bed with the TV on, and me and Mom's favorite movie was on.  I started crying and insisted on watching.  Around 11:30, the hospital called me and told us to come as she was in bad shape.  There was no way she'd make it to surgery.  We turned off the movie and started quietly getting dressed and left the house.  There was no sense of urgency like there was in the afternoon.  We figured there would be some more hours of torture.  10 minutes later, they call me back to let me know that she was crashing and did we want to resuscitate.  I'm driving, couldn't find her living will earlier, and was on the other line with my grandmother.  I start flipping out and put the doctor on hold to ask my grandmother.  We were both screaming helplessly and didn't know what to do.  I went back to the doctor and just started screaming YES YES, WHATEVER.

We get to the hospital and park in the normal pay garage.  Little did I know that the entrance to the hospital was locked on that end.  Rather than pay and drive around to the ER lot (we really weren't thinking clearly), we start running around the hospital to another door while I was on the phone with the doctor.  She tried to meet us at one entrance, but everything was locked and out of her control.  We had to get around the big hospital to the ER.

And I couldn't run.  It wasn't that chilly, it was a little wet out, but I couldn't run.  I may have been crying a little, but that shouldn't have been holding up my lungs.  I had to stop and power walk, and I started screaming at the top of my lungs, "My mother is dying in that building and I can't even fucking run to get to her!!!"  I was ashamed and and disgusted with myself.  I always assumed adrenaline would kick in when an emergency was present, but my body would just not respond the way I needed it to.

The doctor met us outside and would not say anything until they got me upstairs to the ICU.  And when they told me the news I already knew, I started screaming at the top of my lungs while feeling guilty and nearly speaking in tongues while trying to get into a closed room.  I didn't want to upset any patients in the ICU.  And then, as my now husband made the hardest phone calls of his life, I just started screaming louder as I fell on the floor.  They pulled me up and forced me into a chair.  Her only local family was me and her mother.  I had to pull myself together as we waited for my grandmother to get there (she has macular degeneration and lives 45 minutes away, so a friend had to take her).  She was supposed to be there that morning before surgery, but it was too late. And the hardest thing I've had to do in my life was tell the doctors not to move the body until her 82 year old mother got there to break down over her 57 year old baby.

December 11 & 12, 2010 were the worst days of my life.  I started going to therapy, but I started regressing in other aspects of my life.  I finally started gaining control over my health in January 2013.  I pushed myself to start jogging in 1-2 minute spurts in April 2013 while finishing with a 5 minute jog.  By the end of the year, I could jog for 22 minutes, or in my world, 1.25 miles.  I intend to do this a few times a week but end up falling behind because of life.  This year, I found that I could jog a mile under 16 minutes.  15:45 is my best time so far.  I wear proper running shoes and have specially designed music playlists.  I constantly monitor my heart rate when doing 4 mph and the cool down, as my heart is still getting used to that level of intensity.  I refuse to end up like my father, like I discussed in my June 23 post.

The left is July 2011, 7 months after my mom passed.  The right is July 2014, a couple hours ago.  Control is being restored.

Yesterday, we went to NYC for the day.  We stayed in the Midtown West area, specifically around 6th-9th Ave, 30th-50th Street.  My FitBit says that we did a total of 7 miles that day.  That's pretty typical on an active NYC day, especially when you don't take public transportation.  The first half of the day was pretty mellow walking, but we picked up the pace around 5:30.  We realized that the store he wanted to go to on 30th was closing at 6, and we were only on 42nd by that point.  So, once the crowds parted, we began sprinting down NYC streets.

Obnoxious?  Probably.  But did we move deftly around people and not crash into anyone?  Yup!  We started getting into a rhythm- when the stoplight was up, just power walk.  When the walk light was on, SPRINT.  We made it there in a few minutes.  I was ridiculously impressed and not out of breath at all.  I had a slight side stitch, but my husband told me to pinch it and breathe, and the pressure would release.  I was very pleased to see it worked.

At the end of the night, we had to get to the midnight train after waiting for James Franco at the Of Mice and Men stage door for over an hour (my husband is a saint).  I may have had outbursts during our walk from 48th to 42nd because the crowds were extra congested due to construction, and NO ONE WAS MOVING.  It was the first time I've felt NYC native rage towards Times Square in years.  It was such a gorgeous day and night that everyone was out and about.  By the time we made it past 42nd, we practically ran the whole way to the train.  I was wearing my flats, and my thighs were in pain by this time because they are the absolute worst shoes to run in.  Today, I feel like I did inner/outer thigh machines for hours.  But I wasn't out of breath at all on the train.  I had my inhaler with me just in case, and I was totally fine.  I was red as a beet and sweating by that point, but I felt just fine.

I now know that I could run around the entire hospital if need be.  I took control of my life again.  I have been accomplishing goals that I've set for myself.  It may be slow, but that's ok.  I can keep up with my husband, and it felt amazing to have him running in tandem.  It's going to last.  For once, it's going to last.

"I never understood you then, and I guess I never will"

June 23 would have been my father's 62nd birthday.  He died when he was 38 years old.

He didn't die in a tragic accident, he didn't have a long suffering disease.  He died of a heart attack while jogging in the middle of Philadelphia.

He died of a heart attack at 38 years old.

Now, before I proceed, you have to know that he was a psychotic and abusive piece of shit.  If anything, my MS afflicted mother and my 10-year-old self were lucky that this happened.  I have a picture heavy post on another blog explaining my childhood.  Domestic violence trigger warning- please don't read if you think it's going to upset you.

He was a very short and stocky man who yo-yo dieted and exercised.  He was a weightlifter and could lift a great deal, but he still packed away the dessert.  He chain smoked and took drugs.  He didn't even make it to middle age.

We didn't know he was dead for a month since he was a John Doe.  He and my mother were separated, and she thought (and hoped) he had skipped town.  Nope.  He was in a Philly morgue for just over a month in 1991 until they were able to track us down.

I learned early that we had to hide treats so he wouldn't take them from us or yell at us for eating them.  He told me he wouldn't love me if I became hugely fat.  I was taller in elementary school and a bit chubby.  Everything he did to us made me confused and scared and in desperate need of comfort.  So I ate those hidden Twix bars when my mom was in the shower, and I devoured Cheetos and Yoo-Hoo and tons of pasta when staying at my grandmother's.  I knew it was good that he was no longer around, but I was also upset because I didn't have a father who loved me or who gave a shit about being there for me.

I had a father who selfishly and stupidly wasted his life.

I'm going to be 34 this year.  My magic number is 38.  I have to make it past 38.  My mother died at 57, but she had progressive chronic Multiple Sclerosis; she was healthy as a horse aside from the neurological issues.
I can't be my father.  I unfortunately inherited genes from him, but my therapist told me to focus on the positive.  I have a lot of strength and I'm building my endurance.  That's the most positive physical trait we share.  I'm grateful that I inherited my mother's face and his coloring so I don't have to see him in the mirror.  Ok, I do have his flashing dark eyes when I'm upset, but I'm trying to breathe and think before I act.

I want to live a long life with my husband.  I want to entertain the notion of having a kid in the future.  I want to be there for my family and be the best person I can be.  Even when I'm having a bad month (like this one!), I know that I can get back on the horse and keep going.  I'm so close to obtaining major goals.  What did he do?  People say the only good thing he did was make me.  I'd have to agree with them.

I will jog, but I will not become obsessive.
I will eat protein, but I will not eat 6 eggs per day.
I will build strength, but I will not try to be a jacked up bodybuilder.
I will eat treats when I want, but in moderation.
I will continue to stay away from cigarettes and drugs and only have a drink socially.
I will live a long healthy life with my husband and learn how to be the best person I can be, physically, emotionally, and mentally.

May Progress Numbers & Wrap Up

I'm not kidding when I say that May 2014 has been one of the most overwhelming months of my life.  I don't really want to get into too many details here, but life has just gotten crazy.  C-R-A-Z-Y.

In exciting news, I got a new job!  They called the Friday before Memorial Day and wanted me to start as soon as possible, so my last day at my current job was yesterday, June 5.  I was there for 2 years and 1 month.  This new job is going to be so much more convenient in so many ways.  I hope they appreciate me a lot more than my last job did...

Anyway, yeah.  My schedule is crazy now because I have to deal with a lot of issues with my grandmother, and I often don't eat dinner till 9 pm now.  I haven't done cardio at the gym in ages because I have no time.  I feel like I live in the car (with a broken AC two years in a row that costs way too much to fix).  I actually lost weight in May....yet, I ate really badly these past two days, so I need to cleanse my body (HI WATER AND VEGGIES WITH EVERY MEAL) and get back on track.

But for now, let's focus on May!

May weight loss:  4 pounds
2014 weight loss:  13 pounds
Total weight loss:   54 pounds

WOOOOOOOHOOOOO!!!!  Let's hope I didn't screw that up these past couple days. I have a lot going on this weekend anyway, so I'll probably burn that diner chicken parm dinner off....WHAT, IT WAS DELICIOUS AND I TOOK HALF OF IT HOME EVEN THOUGH I HAD UNOS DEEP DISH PIZZA LAST NIGHT.

Sigh.  Let's look at some pictures!

I never had a chance to get my husband to do the normal pictures, and I didn't feel like digging for my jeans.  But these drawstring capris have really gotten loose since 2012, and I see just how much looser the shirt is as well.  Sorry for the awkwardness, but it's the only full length mirror in the house.

Not one of my typical shots (dirty mirror and no bra? So hot), but I thought it was worth documenting (especially when comparing it to January) .  

Being able to try on a dress over my pants in the Forever 21 dressing room?  Amazing.

Of course I bought it, are you crazy??  All hail bright colors!  

Oh hey, just lost 52 POUNDS and am in my favorite denim skirt and Twin Peaks shirt!

Finally able to wear this peplum top I got last year and my stretchy black pencil skirt from 5 years ago.

Mostly selfies this month.  Isn't our bedroom wall color spectacular?

Right before my interview...I was scared to death.  Please note this is my lucky blazer, as I wore this to the interview of my last job.  

Full interview outfit.  Went a little more conservative with my nail color and covering tats just in case.  I'll see just how relaxed a place it is in that regard on Monday!  Really freakin nervous, BTW.

Clothes from the past couple years hanging off me.

I will wear these shorts to run to the supermarket or something now.  A miracle.  But running in them?  NO.

Seriously, I don't have to tilt the camera anymore, and my glasses are large on my face, and my collarbone is really starting to be revealed, and I'm just so not used to this...I'm thrilled, but it's just so weird!

You know what?  This was the motivation I needed to be active and eat well this weekend.  Here's hoping the new job isn't as sedentary as the last one.  I need a new battery for my FitBit, and we'll see what happens!  

I really would like to post more, hopefully life will start calming down in a couple weeks.  Hopefully I'll get to the 2009 Weight Watchers plateau number soon (2 more pounds), and then I'll be so freakin close to a humongous goal.  Seriously though, this is the most weight I've ever lost in my life.  I CAN DO THIS.  I want nothing more than to be able to do this!  I have to keep remembering that my health and fitness is a priority and not an afterthought.  

Stress Eating: Then and Now

I really don't feel like going into it, but I'm going through the second most stressful time period of my adult life right now.  Normally when I feel stress, I give in to comfort eating.  And ohhhh the comfort foods in my life...these are the foods I can't really have often otherwise I will turn into a ravenous monster and nom them all down.  Let's list them so they're just out there in the open:

-Fried chicken.  None of that breaded crap, FRIED.
-Stromboli.  You give me anything smothered with mozzarella and tomato sauce, and I'm a goner
-Chicken Parmesan.  The unhealthy versions that are fried and with pasta.
-Cheese fries.  They're oh so terrible and oh so delicious.
-Pastry.  Cake, donuts, cinnamon buns, my cupcakes....evil.
-Pasta.  I could live on pasta with any kind of sauce or veggie or meat.  Unfortunately, it lives on my ass.
-Herrs Cheese Curls.  I will eat three servings in a blink of an eye, and that's the calorie equivalent of a meal.
-Soft Pretzels.  Worst thing in the world for me to eat.  Why are they so delicious?  So Philly.

These are my special treats.  I don't deny myself, but I REALLY have to watch myself around them.

I have been eating weirdly these past couple weeks.  I have been trying to integrate my every-meal-vegetable, but I've often been skipping meals.  Then I've been making up for it calorie-wise in one huge dinner.  So while my caloric numbers aren't tipping too terribly, I've been balancing the food terribly.  And while the calories may be within range, the fat hasn't been.  I'm trying to look at the whole picture here, and I'm trying to cleanse myself this week.  I'm going to be eating dinner at really strange late hours, but I have to make them light meals with a good post-work snack.

I was so proud of myself for not giving in to stress and even not wanting to eat.  But then, of course, it catches up.  And I didn't make the best decision for both dinners this weekend....

KFC.  Kentucky Fried Chicken.  I don't even like it that much, but it's fried chicken.  My stomach is still begging for mercy and trying to expunge everything.  Yet, I had it 2 days in a row.  Allow me to quote the movie So I Married An Axe Murderer regarding the love/hate relationship I have with Colonel Sanders.

  (I made that myself...I'm so proud)

It was good.  Not great.  I've had better.  I had a few potato wedges and tons of chicken.  They also have a deal where they give you a free chocolate or lemon pound cake if you get the 10+ piece bucket.  Yeah, so I also had half a slice each night.  It wasn't that great.  If my husband won't touch it, I'm throwing it out.

Now my body is retaining salt.  If I could prick a hole in my body and let all that retention shoot out, I so would.  Did I mention I had a Mountain Dew and barely drank water?  Add that brominated vegetable oil to the above list....

I just want to scream.  I know backsliding is inevitable, but how did I think that was a good idea for 2 days?!  I've been physically active those two days, but STILL!  

I need to make a plan.  I need to keep my body healthy during this stressful time period otherwise I'm going to destroy my health and sanity in so many ways.

My weight gain came flying back when my mother died in December 2010.  I'm not going to let this current stress affect me the same way.  I can't.  I've come too far and worked too hard and feel too good.  I need emotional support around me.  My husband and best friends are amazing, but I really do need to know that I can get through this extremely rough patch without sabotaging myself.  If you could shoot me a positive vibe right now, that would be extremely lovely.

Thanks everyone for reading, as always.  

The Never-ending Paranoia, or An Afternoon with my Grandmother

Sunday was Easter, which means family get-together.  I have barely any blood relatives left, and only my maternal grandmother lives nearby.  My husband has a big family, and his mom's side are all local.  His parents asked if we wanted to bring my grandmother and have Easter at their house with his brother and his girlfriend.  Sounds good, less driving, less leftovers to tempt me in our house.  We've gotten together for a few holidays by this point, so it's a lot more relaxed.  I was pretty much breezing through the weekend.  

Until it came time to pick out my outfit.

I'm going to admit right now that part of the stress was because I hadn't kept up on the laundry and I should have figured this out the night before.  I started trying on outfits with an hour to spare.  I asked my husband to come upstairs so he could tell me whether or not it would be an outfit my nan would judge.

(Please let me emphasize that she's actually a smart, hard working, sassy, hilarious woman with a huge heart.  This is just a bitching post.)  

Yes, this is something I always worry about anymore.  And this is another topic for another day, but she helped contribute to my adolescent weight gain by letting me eat whatever I wanted when she was watching me on the weekends.  She had a weight problem herself (it's part of the reason my SOB grandfather left her).  My grandparents made my mother paranoid about her weight and the way she looked, and she in turn passed that on to me.  I used to do the most ridiculous things in high school as I would yank on my thighs and do exercises in my room from Seventeen magazine and sit in front of the mirror in shorts so I could make sure cellulite didn't show.  As I gained weight into my 20s, I wore big ugly clothes and didn't know how to flatter my size.  When I started watching What Not to Wear, I had the revelation that clothes that fit well make you look better!  But I come from the family that insists that baggy loose clothing of the Dorothy Zbornak collection will hide your weight.

I used to panic about how I looked in front of my husband's family.  Now, I don't worry so much.  They are very athletic and slender people, and they are very supportive of my lifestyle change and weight loss.  It took 40 pounds and me opening my mouth for my grandmother to start making any positive comments.  Those comments were mostly along the line of "you're shaping up well."  I'll take it, ok?

When my fashion choices started veering into the dress territory, my grandmother suddenly had a lot of opinions.  My wedding time period was torture.  She still bitches about the dress I wore to my wedding shower.  Look, I know it wasn't the most flattering, and my spanx were obviously showing in pictures.  And yes, my ripples could not be tamed.

I get it, ok?  It really wasn't the best purchase, but I thought it was cute and reminiscent of the Julia Roberts horse racing dress in Pretty Woman.  But stop freakin' bringing it up!!  I also wore a cute red dress to the rehearsal dinner.  Once again, it was around the same length, and she kept whispering at me how she didn't like the dress and how I should not be wearing stuff like that.  Then I got all decked out in my wedding dress the next day (and I don't need to post pix, you've seen plenty if you follow this blog), and she never once told me I looked beautiful or pretty.  And she had ample time to do so.  I was never so hurt by her.  I think she said something during our first dance (yes, I did a grandmother-granddaughter dance to Here Comes the Sun as my parents have passed), but that was it.

I was more worried about my outfit this past Sunday than I was about cooking the main course.  I ended up wearing one of my new dresses (despite knowing it would be a casual atmosphere) and broke every rule of hers:

-My hair was pulled back (and it desperately needs a trim).

-My arms were showing with no cover-up.

-The dress was just above the knees.

-No makeup as always.

-Every single one of my tattoos were showing (at least she didn't notice my new one).

And I think I looked adorable.

I ended up spending most of my time in the kitchen so I could do the ham (seriously, my recipe is amazing) and so I could chat with my mother-in-law since it had been awhile.  My nan was cool with that, she's very social and adaptable.  But she managed to attack me for my physical behavior three times.

1.  I bent over to pet the dogs.  Yes, I would have squatted if anyone else was in the room, but no one else was there.  Of course I had to get snapped at with the hand motion that you can see right up my dress.

2.  She was standing in the kitchen doorway while my husband was there.  I had to bend over to open the oven and manipulate the heavy pot, and of course I had to hear about the back of my skirt again.  I gave up and just let my husband and mother-in-law handle that part.

3.  Later, I was sitting behind the end of the counter.  My mother-in-law was in front with her back to me.  I had my left leg crossed over kind of lazily.  I'm not stupid....if someone came around, I would have dropped my leg.  My grandmother magically appeared in the doorway and told me with hand motions yet again to uncross my leg.  I ended up snapping at her, and I really feel bad that my mother-in-law had to witness that (though she pretended like it wasn't even happening).  

I was spared for the rest of the night, but I was so self-conscious.  I know how to not flash the goods, despite what those wedding shower spanx pictures show (for the record, I had my legs together as tightly as possible that day.)  

All my nan kept talking about on the way home was how she's made an effort to clean up her mouth to be a better person.  She's converted to Catholicism and just had to do penance on Holy Thursday.  She emphasized how ladies just sound awful when they talk like sailors, especially the older they get.  She went on about how her mother would have been so disappointed in her.

Mind you, I have a potty mouth around those I'm comfortable with, but I also know how to NOT SPEAK LIKE A SAILOR, OK I GOT THE HINT.  

I don't need to be told how to be a "proper lady," whatever the fuck that is.

I know she's 85 and stuck in her ways and ideas about etiquette and how women should act and look.  I know I should just ignore it and brush it off my shoulders.  

But when she's pretty much the only blood family member I have left, it's kind of hard to do that.  Especially when she started sounding exactly like my mother.  Oh man am I glad it's a therapy week.  

If we have a child, I don't want to give him or her any of my body confidence issues.  I want to get healthy and fit now so I could be an active and fun mother who doesn't worry about her looks in front of her child.  But at the same time, I'm afraid that what I knew and grew up with will slip out.  I know it's a common fear.

I just wish that I didn't feel like a nervous 15 year old at 33 years old.  I wish I could just "let it go," but there's often that innate need to "please" your parent.  I hate how I feel like a defensive child when she's around.  I love her so much, but she's driving me crazy.  I want to feel comfortable and excited about my weight loss without hearing someone say, "Good, you have to do it while you're young or you'll never get rid of the stomach."  Thanks, I had no idea.  Sigh.

Anyone else have family members that constantly nitpick about the stupidest things in regards to your appearance?