Fat Mom Brain

Did someone say, "RIVER OF CHOCOLATE?"

There are moments as a mother when you will completely lose your shizz past any level you ever thought possible. Like, kick a hole in the wall/throw gracefully toss a frying pan to the floor/screaming banshee lose your shizz. In those moments you will want nothing more than to walk away and pretend these little spawn of Satan are not yours, you have no responsibility towards them, and you are free to live in a bubble where, if someone is rude to you, or throws something at you, or ignores your instructions for the millionth time, or hits/bites/pinches his sister again, you have the freedom to just walk away without a care. Permanently.

But you can't. It's irresponsible at best and illegal at worst.

I'm sure a holier person, a Godlier person, a more grounded or centered or patient person would handle these moments better than I do. Maybe they excuse themselves from the room to "regroup" or grit their teeth and pray, "Jesus, take the wheel," as they handle the situation du jour.

But what really happens in those moments, if you are a Fat Mom (which is more of a mindset and less of a physical description, I'm learning), is that you will want to self-soothe with spoonfuls of the frosting in the refrigerator leftover from a recent birthday cake, or fistfuls of the Doritos allowed in the house because they normally don't tempt you, or entire cases of the 100-calorie snack packs you buy the kiddos as treats. (Fudge-striped miniature Keebler cookies? Why, don't mind if I do. Yes, I want all eight packs, thankyouverymuch.)

You will just want to take a fleeting moment and eat whatever you want, macros/calories be damned. Your mind will disengage from the chaos of whatever familial storm is raging, and you will take a mental tour through the pantry to see what you can cram in your mouth because you need to feel better right now.

Welcome to the Fat Mom's head.

In those moments you have a choice. A choice about what to feed. Do you choose to feed your emotions? They are quite demanding. They are loud. They are immediate. They are seemingly inescapable. They are also temporary. Or, do you choose to feed your body? Do you feed your goals? Do you choose to do the harder thing and suck it up, Buttercup, and don't settle for the cheap fix?

Today I compromised. I may have Augustus Gloop-ed the heck out of some junk food in my head, but I did not inhale a quart of ice cream in real life. I may have gone to McDonalds on a rest day and ordered a sugar free vanilla iced coffee, but I did not eat a Big Mac with fries. And today, I'm calling that compromise a Fat Mom Brain victory.

Now, if only I could stop screaming like a banshee.

*sigh*

Baby steps.

"The water cooler is all the way in the basement but I want hot tea without going down the stairs" (and other first world problems).

I've been a Cranky McCrankivich this week.  I think it's just because now that we are all recovered from the flu (Thank Ya, Jesus!) I realize how much has gone undone lately.  Two weeks of no real cleaning, cooking, shopping, and *ahem* steady routine for the kiddos (other than 'stay in your jammies and watch tv') has given me quite the To-Do List.  Oh, and have I mentioned school?  We ended up taking two full weeks off school (don't panic, we homeschool), but added to the week off from our Disney trip in October, three weeks of school make-up feels like a monstrous hill to climb.

I've been coping with this stress by being super thankful that we are no longer sick  reminding myself of all the ridiculous things that suck about my life.  Which, as everyone knows, is the most obvious way to lift one from the depths of being overwhelmed, and really helps to turn that frown upside down.


So far, I have noted the following:

1. My wrist is sore from playing Bejeweled Blitz on my iPad.

2. I promised the kids we would go to the McDonald's play land at lunch, but all the parking spaces were taken.  We had to park in the adjacent lot ten yards away.

3. I want Tim Horton's for breakfast but that means I can't have Subway for lunch.

4. It's snowing and the snow plow came and plowed my neighborhood before the storm was finished.  Now there's almost an inch of unplowed snow at the bottom of my driveway.

5. My favorite coffee mug is in the clean dishwasher but if I take it out I'll feel guilty for not unloading the whole thing.

5. The only treadmill left at the gym only faces three televisions instead of six.

6. Someone was using my favorite shower at the gym.  The other shower heads spray all wonky.

7.  I forgot that the car had seat warmers and I spent a few nervous minutes wondering if I peed my pants.

8. I really wanted toast with peanut butter and banana but I used all the bananas to make banana muffins so I had to eat a banana muffin with peanut butter instead.


Sometimes being ridiculous is the only way to cope, amIright?  Now I'm gonna go cheer up and come to you much more smiley after a solid weekend of Bustin' My Tush to Get Crap Done. Happy Weekend Y'all!

Me.  If I was yellow.  And round(er).  Like an M&M.

Is there a greeting card to say, "I'm sorry for squirting you with windshield wiper fluid"?

Have I mentioned that I have a strong affection for Tim Horton's?  Really? Because usually that's one of the first things people know about me.  Funny I haven't mentioned it here...

I live in an area that has direct access to every suburban nicety you could need. Target?  Which one?  There are two within three miles of my house.  Kohl's? Same thing.  Grocery stores? I lost count at six within the same radius.  I can walk a half mile to McDonalds, Burger King, Arby's, Taco Bell, Wendy's, Boston Market, Potbelly's, three Coney Island's, and Timmy Ho's all from my front door.  (That's just the fast food.  You can also add Outback, TGIF's, Applebees, and if you tack on another mile, Panera, Buffalo Wild Wings, Chili's, Olga's... I could go on but this is making me hungry, and it's a loooooong time until lunch.)

It's a wonder I don't weigh 400 pounds.  (Although if I exclusively walked to these places it might take a slight edge off the caloric mountain.)(So maybe I'd only weigh 300.)

To some people all this convenience would be a dream. (I'm thinking of my Sister Wife Lyndsay who lives about 1000 miles from anything.)(Although it is really difficult to have a farm where I live.)(So Lynds would be totally out of luck with her goats and soap business.) To others it would be a nightmare.  (Truth?  The traffic is not my favorite.)(Neither is trying to ride my bike for triathlon training in said traffic.)

I'm a "take the good, take the bad, take 'em both and there you have" kind of girl, and so I'm happy to live in my sweet little commercialized town and am thankful that I can run out and buy emergency chocolate at 10:00 a.m. without it causing any major setbacks for the day.  (Who am I kidding?  Emergency chocolate can only cause the day to get better.)(Mostly because if you need emergency chocolate at 10:00 a.m. the track record for the day hasn't been stellar to begin with.)(So the odds of a delicious sugar rush improving your day aren't that surprising.)

See all those veggies?  It's like I'm eating a
salad and a bagel, egg, bacon, and cheese
show up to supplement.  #healthfood

I know Tim Horton's is my weakness.  When I am being faithful and obedient to my responsible eating plan I allow myself to eat there on Tuesday mornings.  When I am being a great big ball of hormonal rage fest that doesn't care about being a blobby mess of hotness I visit with increased frequency. The kind that loses track of meaningful time and says, "I haven't had a Bagel BELT in forever," and "forever" means "yesterday."

This might be why the people at Tim Horton's know me.

Since I've been sick, it's been about two weeks since I've contributed to Tim Horton's coffers. (I'm sure their stock has taken a hit.)  I had been looking forward to this reunion and anticipated the first sip of Iced Capp seeing my buddies from the drive-thru because people and relationships are more important than caffiene.*

(*This just became a huge "chicken or the egg" dilemma in my mind.  Sometimes in order to have good relationships with people you need to ingest some caffeine in order to be nice awake.  Does that mean that for the sake of people you need to prioritize caffeine? What came first - friendship or caffeine? Discuss.)

I took the Ford Flex out for my Post Flu Comeback Tour (which is the car that Brian drives and I'm not as familiar with).  It's wonderfully clean because the kiddos mostly stay out of it, so the back seat is not decorated in fossilized french fries and sour sippy cups. I was on the road less than ten seconds when I called Brian to ask how to turn off the rear window windshield wiper because I am too impatient to make a go of trial and error.  Once I had that all straightened out I headed to Tim Horton's to support Canada one breakfast sandwich at a time.

Understandably, my friends the people that work the drive-thru were frantic had noticed my absence.

Drive-Thru Intercom Guy:  Tim Horton's.  May I help you?
Kelly: May I please have a Bagel BELT and a small Iced Capp - no whipped cream?
Drive-Thru Intercom Guy (his name is Eric, FYI): OH HEY!  How have you been?
Kelly: Sick, dude.
Eric: Sucks. $5.60 at the window.

While I was waiting for my turn at the window I noticed my windshield was dirty.  I started pushing random buttons to find the fluid releaser.  I was unsuccessful.  (Surprise!)  Then it was my turn.

Eric:  Here's your Iced Capp.  It'll be a second for your sandwich.
Kelly: Cool.

This is when I put my straw in my Iced Capp and gulped took a sip (Brain freeze?  Ain't nobody got time for that) and then decided I should make good use of my time and find the windshield wiper fluid thing.  Being the triumphant morning of the Post Flu Comeback Tour, I totally found it.  I found it and was liberally dousing my windshield as Eric opened the drive-thru window to hand me my Bagel BELT.  At the exact same moment Eric handed me the grub, some snow melted on the wiper blade and helped to uncovered some jacked up sprayer hole that released windshield wiper fluid directly into the open window of Tim Horton's.  I couldn't have aimed better if I tried.  Thankfully Eric is fast and dodged, allowing the stream to hit his arm and the counter instead of his face and hair.  He looked appropriately freaked out and I was all, "DUDE!"

And then I giggled.

There is no amount of apologizing that will seem sincere after you laugh at squirting someone with windshield wiper fluid.

Eric was cool about it as I tried to hand him some Tim Horton's napkins from my stash in the car ("Yeah, we have some here, thanks.") but I think it will be a while before I can return without being completely mortified.  I guess I'll have to drive either a mile south or a mile east in order to go to a different Tim Horton's until the dust settles. (Or fluid is forgotten.)(Whatever.)

It's What's For Dinner

Just an average family dinner at my house.

It's 6 a.m., so I've obviously got one thing on my mind.

What's for dinner tonight?

Food.  I eat it everyday, so, I'm pretty much a fan.  Everyone has a personal philosophy about food, conscious or otherwise, because they make food decisions several times a day.  Some people even think their ideas about food are the ideas about food for everyone. Since I'm a little funny about others telling me what I should eat (not a pride thing, just a natural consequence of having food allergy kids and being a woman that has lost 100 pounds and is terrified of gaining it back)  I adopt a bit of a free-lovin' hippie-esque view of personal diet.  My current food philosophy is:  everyone is different, discover your needs and your wants, and exercise balance (in your diet, not on the Wii board) (although that's okay, too) (geez, stop being so touchy).

In 2004, a documentary called Super Size Me prompted Brian and I to try thirty days of whole foods, which is as close to clean eating as I have ever done.  We should have known this challenge was doomed from the start, when 45 minutes into a documentary showcasing how revolting the fast food industry is we broke for a Big Mac run.  We committed to the "Whole Foods Challenge" on a whim, even though my idea of healthy food was iceberg lettuce and the occasional apple. I guess you should theoretically know how to cook before you embark on a whole foods diet.  It was my practice to pass over any recipe that started with "chop one onion" because it was too much work.  So, you can see how prepared we were to go all whole foods for a month.

It did not go well.

Starting with the twenty-four ingredient Stuffed Portabella Mushroom Burgers was probably a bad choice.  The menu sounded wonderful to Brian until he came home from work to discover me crying in the kitchen because I was so overwhelmed mostly because I didn't want to touch the mushrooms, and prompt me to leave him with a 19 month old, a 5 month old, and an unfinished recipe while I took a long drive to recover from feeling like the worst wife/mother/chef ever. And maybe stopped to buy myself some "therapy" Subway.

Eventually I learned to cook,  which came in handy when God gave us a child that is allergic to milk.  And eggs.  And peanuts.  And tree nuts.  And sesame seeds.  And berries with seeds on the outside.  And citrus.  And high fructose corn syrup. (Up until that last one you were all, "That's not so bad, we could manage that."  But then I dropped the HFCS bomb and you were like, "WHAAAA?  HOW DO YOU FUNCTION?" I know, right?)

Actually, with that last allergy we are perfectly set up to eat a clean diet.  There is just one problem.  Taco Bell is delicious I am so lazy.  That's not 100% true.  It's more like 75% true. There are so few convenience foods our family can eat that when I discover that generic Fruit Loops are free of any of our families allergens, I'm all (and say it like you are a queen bestowing favor upon the land), "FRUIT LOOPS FOR BREAKFAST FOR EVERYONE!"

Which actually sounds like tonight's plan for dinner.  Full circle.  Done.

Totally not our generic Fruit Loops.  And I am so jealous.  These have an angry eagle throwing up a rainbow of cereal.  It's almost downright patriotic.

Ain't no party like a cold and flu party 'cuz a cold and flu party don't stop

Someone stayed in bed all day yesterday wrapped in two cozy quilts with a space heater running while she moaned piteously every time a whiny child concerned family member stood outside the bedroom door demanding something voicing their concern over her well being.

She may have taken copious amounts of Aleve and Tylenol (don't ask why it's her cocktail of choice) and played unending rounds of Bejeweled Blitz on her iPad while her hubby took over the education of the offspring.


You know you are a mom when a day miserable in bed feels like vacation.


There may have also been some deep midday naps filled with awesome dreams that felt like starring in action movies.  And one dream heavily influenced by recent internet exposure.

(Conversation between the hubs and I after said dream:

Kelly:  I had a dream today we moved to Texas and I met Megan from that one blog I read and we worked out together and she taught me to love chevron.

Brian:  That's why they call them "dreams".

Kelly:  You know, dreams are just 'a goal without a plan'.

Brian:  Dreams are delusional pastimes by those who refuse to live in reality.

Kelly:  Way to crush my soul, Destroyer of All that is Fun.)


Actually, being sick is the one time I feel* it's physically beneficial to my body to eat a McFlurry for dinner.  So, thank you sore throat for justifying 670 calories of cold, soothing, wetness as a healing balm.

*"I feel" = "not necessary true at all".

(*Also, a rant for free = Why don't I ever get the puking-my-brains-out/lose-seven-pounds-in-two-days sickness?  I always get the your-throat-will-feel-so-much-better-if-there-is-constantly-something-sliding-against-it-as-long-as-it's-not-calorie-free-water sickness that makes me lay in bed and just gain weight.)(Also, did I just complain about not puking? Where is my brain?)

Yesterday I posted about the kids' rooms makeovers.  You saw Eve and Hosanna's room and clearly understood that I'm a SAHM and not an Extreme Makover: Home Edition designer by choice, and not because I haven't been in high demand for my ah-may-zing garbage picking finds. Here are some pictures of Esther and Ezra's room.  They went from a crib and a toddler bed to this:

Is that a BIG BOY BED?

Prints from Kenya from Grandma and Grandpa's last missionary trip.

A table and chairs Brian's dad made him as a little boy.

Mad organizational skillz.  Notice the same shoe organizer that Eve and Hosanna have? Don't fix what ain't broke, y'all.

Under the bed storage.  Two laundry baskets of dress up clothes, one laundry basket of dolls and stuffed animals.  And the IKEA rug that every home with children owns.

I have seriously happy kiddos with their new bedrooms.  And I am seriously happy I don't have to worry think about that project anymore.  Now ... what's next?

Party Like It's 2012 (but also like you're a 33 year old with four kids)

This is totally what I'm doing tonight.  Except replace all
these hip people with my kiddos and my in-laws.  And then
swap the balloons and streamers and party atmosphere with
the interior of our local Chinese restaurant.  But otherwise
pretty much the exact same thing.

How did it get to be New Year's Eve already?  WTHeck, Time? Slow down you animal; there are children aboard.

I loved this year.  2012 did me good, y'all.  (That sentence was a grammatical mess, and, to be honest, made me wonder if people would deduce I was trying to hint at innuendo but failed miserably because I'm not really a Master of the Sexy.  Which is why it was up to Justin Timberlake to bring sexy back and not me, which is good because apparently he succeeded and sexy is totally back.

2012 was a kinda a big year.  If I had to sum it up in one phrase it would be "The year that Kelly turned into a Bagel BELT and Iced Capp because: you are what you eat."  (Not having Tim Horton's sponsor my blog is one of my major fails in life.)  I may or may not have received four TH gift cards for Christmas.

Um, yeah that's my husband. *Swoon*

Sadly, this is the year that Joe Stillwell left Needtobreathe.  I am still very, very blue about this. If I was a teenybopper, it's Joe's poster that would be on my wall.  Because I maybe have a thing for musicians and he is, after all, a drummer.  But since I'm a grown woman and my husband won't let me I don't have any rock star's picture over our bed. (But I'm just sayin' if I did it would be Joe, which is why I'm so sad about his departure.)

Rock of Ages ... don't hate.
This is what I would be like as a rock star.
Except I'd wear a shirt because I'm a lady.

I did get into some new music this year.  I fully jumped on the Mumford & Sons bandwagon.  I love me some rock and roll banjo.  I also discovered Fun and a bunch of other stuff I never would've given a chance if it weren't for needing a good running playlist.  Neon Trees, Foster the People, 30 Seconds to Mars, and Bon freaking Jovi topped some of my playlists.  In my most awesome moment ever I confessed I really wanted the Rock of Ages soundtrack for Christmas.  In an even more awesome moment that trumped my confession I actually received the CD because my mom loves me.

Her Majesty.

I also had fun on the Internets.  My favorites this year included Honest Toddler -  on Twitter and his blog, Ghetto Hikes, and of course The Bloggess.  (Jenny Lawson is my Stephenie Meyer.  You know, in the sense that she's an average woman who makes a ton of money writing hilarious nonsense.) I've also been extremely blessed to enter the blogosphere and "meet" some fantastic people. I'm thinking of Katie at Nested and Stephanie at That Loud Redhead.



To finish my 2012 review, here are my Top Five Gamechangers of 2012.  These are the things I never saw coming that changed my life.  All of them.  In one year.  It's been a ride.

1. Sarah - Can you believe that I only met Sarah in February?  We met at a triathlete swimming class offered at my gym.  Sarah was an actual triathlete while I was a wannabe who didn't know if I could do it.  For some reason she still wanted to swim with me after the class ended and she wasn't forced to because she paid to be there.  Our swim times grew to include bike times, practice triathlon times, and finally just hang out and have fun without killing our bodies times.  Our Christmas gift exchange was rad as she spoiled my whole family rotten; she got me because I wanted it so badly Ezra this:

If you listen closely, it's totally a Kris Kross ripoff which I love.  Now I get to hear Tigger rap, "wiggity-wiggity-wiggity-wiggle!"  all day long.  Pooh is so hood.  100 Acre Woods, y'all! (Yeah, I totally just threw up the midwest gang sign.)  I got her some footie pajamas.  And?  They have shark feet.

Sarah's are aqua, and can you ever go wrong with shark feet?  Answer:  NO.

2. Pinterest - Laugh all you want but Pinterest has changed my life mainly because it reminds me that I will never have my act together enough to make miniature sushi shaped like a penguin and that's more than okay.  Pinterest is teaching me how to dress, one accessorized outfit at a time.  It is teaching me how to combine desserts into hybrid dessert recipes that would make Keegan-Michael Key freak the heck out because they are that good.  (Why stop with brownies?  Why don't we make brownies with a pretzel crust and fill them with oreo cookies? They also probably need to be topped with cookie dough.)  It is where I first discovered that some children, whose parents love them, have rock walls in their bedrooms.  Mine have to settle for climbing the fireplace. They are so deprived.

3. Sublurban Mama - I thought about doing this blog for a while.  I started it in June and the response has been overwhelming.  I'm so thankful for each and every one of you who read it. (And comment. I'm a nerd about loving people that comment.)(And all of you that are Sublurbanites and follow me on Google Friend Connect - I might yell "SOMEONE ELSE IS FOLLOWING ME!" to Brian whenever it happens.  It's totally like on It's a Wonderful Life when Zuzu Bailey says, "Teacher says, "Everytime a bell rings, an angel gets his wings." But you following me is the bell, and me screaming in excitement and maybe on accident peeing a little  is like an angel getting wings.  Or something.)(We won't even talk about what happens when another blog links to me.)(Have I mentioned that I can still do the Roger Rabbit and it might be part of my happy dance when those of you that love me refer me to others who then in turn follow me on Google Friend Connect or Facebook?)

So this blog was a bit of a game changer for me.

This is just me.  Being a triathlete.  No biggie.

4. Triathlon - Did I mention I did a triathlon this year?  Oh, I did?  I forgot how many posts I wrote about it but here is the recap.  Triathlon is a monster of a sport.  Can you imagine getting race ready for three different sports?  The equipment needs themselves are staggering.  I was pushed out of my comfort zone every day (for four months!) as I prepared for the big day.  It was one of the proudest moments of my life.





5. Disney World - I feel a titsch silly with this one, but I finally get what the Disney hype is all about and I will totally be going back at some point.  What made this trip so special was that it was thrown together pretty last minute by the in-laws, who are so good to us.  It was to be our last big family time together before Brian's parents move from 3 miles away in our little Michigan town to Malawi for a year. Yep.  Africa's Malawi.  It's gonna be rough. Rough for me because I love them and will miss them.  Rough for them because Malawi doesn't have a Tim Horton's.  I don't know who will have it worse.

Happy New Year everyone!  Stay safe tonight.  I'll see you next year! (I had to do it.  It's a tradition, right?)

How to Lose Ten Pounds

All.Week.Long.

Happy Fitness Friday! (Fitness Friday?  The heck did that come from?) I know, it's like I'm the master of the bait and switch.  Y'all were expecting another Foreign Language Friday, where I explain some of the terminology used in the Fitness World.  Recent Foreign Language Fridays have defined burpees, plank position, mountain climbers, and a bunch of upper body strength and conditioning exercises.  But today, fresh off a week long vacation at Disney World, I think instead Imma update you on my fitness.  Or, lack thereof.

Remember my sour cream and cheddar epiphany?  The one where I discovered I gained ten lovely pounds after I finished my triathlon training?  I took some time before the great Disney pig out vacation to get my food intake under control and really planned out my workouts at the gym.  I stopped just showing up and going through the motions and started working out to a systematic plan that pushed me a lot more.  And, as expected, it paid off.  I lost five of those pounds before the trip.

Turns out that this was a good thing, because in one week at Disney I gained six pounds.  (Which? Technically is only one pound, right?  Because let's pretend I didn't lose those five. To gain six more on top of that would put me up 16 from my triathlon weight. But really, I'm only up ONE teensy little pound from my weight three weeks ago ... which is actually up 11 from my triathlon weight. So, yeah, I don't really buy it either.)

How does one gain six pounds in a week spent mostly walking all.day.long?  Well, first invest in the Disney meal plan.  Then decided early on how you are going to handle temptations, check out menus to make the best choices, and finally, when you get there, abandon all prior planning and rationale because "DUDE - I'm on vacation." (Blame it on the ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cheesecake.)

Also, set completely reasonable vacation running goals, set your vacation alarm clock to start your day with a lovely Florida sunrise run, and discover that just because it is 40 degrees warmer than it is at home doesn't make it any less dark at 6:30 a.m.  As much as my schooling in the D (that's Detroit for all you non-Michiganders) prepared me for being a tough girl while I run alone, it taught me to beware the Scary Raper Dude, not the Too Tame Wildlife that Disrespect My Spacial Boundaries that reside in the resort we visited. (Totally not saying I expected to get attacked by an alligator.)(Although I read they're not fast if you run in a zigzag.)(But that's probably something Floridians tell Mid-westerners so we'll look ridiculous when being chased by alligators.)(Which probably happens more than you think.)(Because Mid-westerners are impressed by that sort of thing.)(Wild alligators, not running in a zigzag.)(Although we do play Dizzy Bat, so, yeah.)

(*I may have just taken a 45 minute blogging break to watch Dizzy Bat videos on YouTube. Hardcore giggling ensued.  I'm counting it as an ab workout tonight.*)

My point is that it was just too dark to run in the woods in the morning.  And by the time we got home from the parks, it was too dark in the evening.  So, a huge exercise fail on my part.

So what's next?  Am I just going to chill out with my extra eleven pounds?  Heck no.  This is the plan:

1. Stay within my calorie budget and be accountable using my food journal.  I've talked about this before but I follow a zigzag calorie plan (not because I'm a Mid-westerner who likes Dizzy Bat)(they're totally not related at all) which allows me an average of 1600 calories a day.  I change up my daily calorie totals so that my body is kept guessing; my body is all like, "Dude, I was expecting her to eat 1600 calories yesterday but she only ate 1300, and today she pounded 1900.  WHAT IS GOING ON?"  But I know in my head that I have averaged 1600 calories a day, and if I do this I will keep myself not only from plateauing but also from going on a binge.  Everybody wins.  Especially my poor, confused body.

2. Make an exercise plan to make sure I get my training in with Eve for the Turkey Trot, but also commit to more strength training, because since my triathlon season is over my guns have taken some serious hits.  I also noticed last night that Sarah is seriously kicking my tush in the pool.  She is training for her full length IRONMAN and she put in 2700 yards this past Monday.  I put in nothing for almost two weeks.  I was happy to be done at 1300 yards.  Delighted, even.  And Sarah is so much faster.  I need to add another swim day so I don't lose all my hard work.  So here is my tentative workout schedule:

Monday: Boot Camp and Ab Lab (or swim if Brian gets home too late for me to make Boot Camp)
Tuesday: rest
Wednesday: Run with Eve; strength training
Thursday: Weight Workout and swim with Sarah
Friday: Run with Eve
Saturday: Ab Lab, swim? (I don't know about this yet.  Our Saturdays are so busy right now.)
Sunday: Run with Eve; strength training

I totally want to dominate those eleven pounds before Christmas.  I want to enjoy the season and all, but not so much that I begin to look like Santa Claus, youknowwhatI'msayin'?

In conclusion, Disney was delicious, but now it's time to return to reality.  And I have to realize that the return to responsible eating will be just as rude as the return to 45 degree weather. What do you do for damage control?  Let me know, I appreciate any help I can get.

Sour Cream and Cheddar. A Delicious Epiphany.

I didn't notice it right away (really it took about two months) but "suddenly" my pants were tight.  I hopped on the scale and freaked the heck out to discover I had gained TEN pounds since the triathlon.

That's right.  TEN.

It turns out that eating like you're training for a triathlon is actually helpful while you are training for a triathlon, but afterwards?  Not so much.

That discovery of the bulge was about two weeks ago.  Since then I have been super diligent about my diet and exercise and will weigh myself in two weeks to see how I'm faring.  If I do it before then and I see any positive movement on the scale I get all "IT'S WORKING" (I say this like I'm Lo Pan from Big Trouble in Little China) and then slack off.

So, I'm staying on "budget" with my calories, pushing my inner gym rat to go hard ... life is good, right?

It's never that simple.

Have you ever gotten in a fight with one of your kids?  Like, they're being all "I'm a kid and I'm gonna try and challenge your authority all freaking day and then I'm gonna take my anger out on all my siblings because my life is so hard because you asked me to wipe down the kitchen table when it wasn't even my turn and you are being so unfair that you would take away tv time/Wii/computer time and expect me to just PLAY OUTSIDE?"  And you respond by being all, "I'm not going to engage in this with you because I'm an adult who knows better than to participate in a battle of wills with my own child because that will never prove my authority but since you just left the room and mumbled something passive aggressively under your breath that I totally didn't hear but could ascertain that whatever you said was completely disrespectful now I'm totally going to engage because my pride demands I have the last word."  And the pair of you are now off on an awfully awful exchange.

Now I'm not saying that ever went down at my house, especially not yesterday in the early afternoon, but if it did it would've been a prime time for me to take the opportunity to eat my feelings.  And I did.  I was feeling slightly ice creamy, a little sour cream and cheddar chippy, and a lot iced coffee-ey.  That's approximately 450 calories of feelings.  To clarify, Monday is my lowest calorie day on the zig-zag calorie plan, so I only had 1300 calories total.  Monday is the worst day possible for me to be all "Forget you, Responsible Eating Plan."

But it happened anyway.  And I knew the rest of the day was going to be an avalanche of deliciousness as I allowed myself the quantities and combinations of food I have been successfully keeping at bay for two weeks.

Then I had an epiphany.

I was at Boot Camp later that day (where I burn around 550-600 calories for the hour - hoorah!).  I was in plank position (where I do my best calculating) and realized that my binge wasn't that huge, and my "I totally screwed up today anyway, so I am going to stop by McD's for a giant Big Mac and fries and maybe even real Coke on the way home from the gym" plan wasn't really necessary.  In fact, I hadn't even really screwed up all that bad in terms of calories; it was more the lack of self-control I was upset about.  My McD's plan is what really would have wrecked me.

I never do this with money.  If I shouldn't spend any money and I buy a pair of shoes, I never go drop $500 at the mall "because I already messed up."  How stupid is that?  But I still think like that with food.  Duh.

Epiphany.  Hey, Kel, stop and think before you do any more damage than the initial damage done.  Word.

Do any of you struggle with this?  What thoughts/actions help you?

Just Pretend It's Everest (and I might have ADD)

I promised you a RAD mountain climber post today and the pressure of that expectation is crushing my soul.  (Not really, because mountain climbers are pretty RAD all by themselves.)(It would be hard for me to give them a bad rap.)(Unless I tried to do it myself.)(Rap, I mean.)(I'm terrible at rapping.)(Except for anything by Kris Kross; that's my jam.)(How often do I get a chance to rap? Mostly I rap while I'm running and wearing my ear buds.)(This probably looks and sounds as Thug Life as you are picturing it in your head.)(Especially since I'm really awful at knowing the lyrics.)(But none of this really matters because:

Yes.  All that mess in my head ended with a perfectly crafted e-card.  Thank you Pinterest.

A story just for free? In college I took a sociology class where the professor referred to me as "Caucasian Female" all.semester.long.  It was awesome and vaguely horrifying the week we discussed plantations (not on the syllabus) and I was asked to give my opinion as a representative of the white man slave owner.  However, the prof also let me take the midterm I missed because I overslept without any kind of penalty, so I think we are even.

So ... back to mountain climbers.  Every Friday I do a series called Foreign Language Friday.  These are posts written to define the words and phrases used only in Exerciseville.  (Totally not a real place.)

{UPDATE:  I just Googled Exerciseville and found THIS BLOG.  Duuuude.  The language is a bit rough but I think I just met my new best friend.}

Today I am answering the oft asked (in your head) question, "The heck are mountain climbers?"

These are currently the bane of my existence.  Actually, it's more the getting usable pictures of me doing mountain climbers that is the problem.  Do you know why?  I'm on my freaking period and a bit testy about how bloated I am All the photos we took were a bit unflattering.  And since you've seen some of the pictures I've posted, you know I'm not overly concerned about personal vanity, so my mountain climber pictures had to be bad if I refused to post them.  And I mean really, really bad. (Like "Hey Kel, are you pregnant? How about your tush and thighs - are they pregnant, too?" bad.)

To be fair, the physical positions of mountain climbers really don't lend themselves to complimentary photographs is what I told myself to make me feel better.  Then I searched the internets and found these:

I'm beginning to hate the women of BodyRock.  You know, in a totally fair way that is rooted in jealousy and insecurity.

So what are mountain climbers?  Mountain climbers are both a cardio and a strength move, so pretty much they are awesome.  I'm all about streamlining*, so doing one effective exercise to knock out a bunch of other exercises is good math.

(*I know a man who is so efficient that as a child he would get dressed for the next day before he went to bed.  Because why waste time with pajamas when you just have to take them off eight hours later?)

To do mountain climbers get in a plank-ish position.  Draw one leg forward (like all the pictures). Squeeze your abs as both feet jump and switch positions.  Switch your feet for 30-60 seconds. Move your feet faster for more of a cardio workout.  It's as simple as that, y'all.

You can vary MC in many ways to change it up for both your body and your mind. For a more intense ab workout you can focus on bringing your knees in to your chest (KNEES TO CHEST - FillWerrell).  To work your obliques (the side abdominals kind of), pull your knee to your opposite arm, or pull it towards the same side shoulder.  You can also do MC on a bosu ball.

This is sick hard because you have the added challenge of balance thrown in for fun.

To get more of an upper body workout, you can lower yourself into a push up and bring your knees up on the outside of your body.  You might feel like a frog.  You won't look like one, don't worry. Frogs never look like they're about to cry.

I have a Boot Camp instructor who hates people, and so she makes us do mountain climbers with paper towel under our feet as we travel across the floor.  This is cuh-razy hard, and I only get through it by thinking about Taco Bell and how much I hate our instructor.  (This is how you know pain a liar because our instructor is awesome.)(She's like a Jillian Michaels who doesn't care about your feelings.)(That was a joke, because Jillian doesn't really care about your feelings, and our instructor cares even less.)(But lest you think that makes her unlovable, think again, because I love her.)(And I'm not saying that just because she literally kicked my butt during plank to get it down into proper position, and I'm a titsch scared of her.)  The paper towel thing is supposed to be better on your joints but I'm not drinking the Kool-Aid y'all unless it's red because I heart that mess.

In conclusion, this post was a hot mess of awesomeness.  I think I have ADD.  But not really.  Brian used to have bad ADD and weaned himself from his meds in college.  I keep begging him to go back on them so I can pilfer his Adderall, mainly for the weight loss and focus it would provide, because I'm all about responsibility with medication and don't believe in taking short cuts.

I hope you enjoy your mountain climbers and have a fantastic weekend.  I'll see y'all Monday!

Would you like some cheese with that whine?

You ever get a phone call that starts all lighthearted and "this'll just take a minute"-like and then your Perceptive Friend on the other line asks all the right questions and you end up locked in the bathroom spilling your guts while the kiddos play a screamingly fun round of Jump from the Kitchen Counter Onto the Couch (because there is an (imaginary) flood all around them, of course) and Mama is totally too busy to intervene and stop the madness?

It's been kind of crazy this month.


My dad had surgery.  It was elective surgery and we had been planning for weeks for it to be a certain day, which was good because he had time to get out-of-state family help (otherwise it's just me) and I had time to arrange childcare for four kids on the big day.  Except he was offered a two week bump up in queue.  And he took it.  Which meant he had no extra out of state help and I was left scrambling for childcare.

Thank God my in-laws are The Jam and cheerfully helped me out of one.

But it was a week full of logistical headaches as I tried to figure out how to help out the patriarch while still holding up my responsibilities at home.  (His surgery went well.  My highlights included sitting with him for five and a half hours in a 100 bed recovery bay, but not on the chair with wheels because "you might get hurt."  The nurse could not be swayed by my argument that I am a 33 year old college graduate routinely left with four children in her care; simply put, I pose too much of a danger with a cushion-y chair on wheels.  Apparently I could handle a hard plastic folding chair with a tiny seat that made my tush feel gargantuan without wheels which was way more my speed anyway thankyouverymuch.)

(Also, I forgot to eat lunch because I was rushing to the hospital so when I left the hospital at dinner time I went to the closest fast food joint and ordered some little fried chicken sandwiches, because obviously when fatty food is smaller you can order more of it.  That's how nutrition works, y'all.)(The best part of my KFC experience was that I didn't know how the money exchange part works in a drive-thru when bulletproof glass in involved.  I'm so suburban.  It's not like my soccer mom outfit and father-in-law's hot Ford Flex with Sirius Satellite Radio were helping me look more street.)(But the Midwest gang sign I threw as I was leaving totally did.)(The Midwest gang sign is like the sign for "Westside" but it's just upside down.  You know, like an "M".)(I was going to go with the actual sign language sign for "corn" but it's a little suggestive when you don't know actual sign language.)

Anyway.

Also, I quit Jillian.  This stresses me out but I know it was the right decision.  The whole point of a personal exercise challenge is to keep me interested in exercise.  I realized I was dreading her video to the point that I chose to skip it.  It wasn't that it was too hard (although it was totally hard, for sure) but more that I do really badly working out on my own.  My pride is simply too big and flourishes under public forms of exercise.  You know, like running down the street, knowing everyone on my block has dropped what they are doing in order to judge my form, pace, and stamina.  Or taking a class with people who are spending every second of their own workout checking out my progress.  Clearly.  So the next challenge is a 10K in a few weeks.  That is training I will stick to. And enjoy as much as one can truly enjoy the pain of training.

Then Esther had an incident.  You know, the kind where she jumped on the indoor trampoline (don't judge me) and flew face first into the coffee table.  (This was prior to the current game of Jump from the Kitchen Counter Onto the Couch.)  Which meant a trip to Urgent Care with the four kiddos.  At lunch time.  When Ezra had speech in an hour.  40 minutes away.  (Thank God again for the in-laws.)

She ended up needing two stitches in her lip.  We She did really well because I promised her a Frosty afterwards and me some Wendy's chili.  I love that mess.

I ended the stress of the week by using a Groupon I had for Jungle Java to provide an outlet for my little darlings, and a couch and cup of sugary caffeinated deliciousness for me.  This is where Ezra had access to three stories of fun climbing things, slides, and padded walls and floors, but instead opted to sprint to the cafe kitchen, restrooms, and water fountain whenever my head was turned.  He also took full advantage of the uncovered power outlets which he doesn't give the time of day at home.  Sheesh, son.  All I wanted to do was sit.   And drink expensive coffee while I sat.  And not really do anything other than...sit.  But thank you for all the dashing, squatting, and lifting you put me through because it just gave me the best business idea ever.

Toddler Tone:  Personal Training for Real Life.

This is the plan.  You hire me to be your personal trainer.  We meet at Jungle Java, where I unleash my girlies to wreak havoc to their heart's content.  I pass along responsibility of Ezra to you, and you chase him for one hour.  I can guarantee a calorie burn of around 300, along with increase in muscle fibers, the testing of reflexes, and most importantly, the knowledge that it will officially be over in an hour.  You don't have to survive until bedtime.  (That alone is priceless.)

All I ask is you learn three simple phrases to aid in communicating with your Training Assistant:

1. "That's not your juice box."

2."We don't touch the potty/outlet/refrigerator inside the kitchen we shouldn't be in anyway."

3."Say please, Dude*."
*'Dude' is optional per your personal taste.

I will be busy during this time sitting on the plush couches, drinking expensive coffee, and occasionally correcting your squat form.

I think I finally found my million dollar idea.


So, thanks for making it this far in my "I'm a big fat whiiiiiiiiiiner post."  As your reward:

Dear Faithful Reader,
I.O.U.
Love, Kelly

I'm heading for brighter days.  I know this mainly because:

Truth.

Secretary to the Ministry of Cupcake

In high school I had a history teacher named Mr. Grant who kept McDonald's coupons in his wallet (this was in 1996, way before electronic gift cards)(it was kind of like the Flintstones Era)(the Flintstones were a cartoon)(from the 1960's)(1960's? For real?!) so that when a person of a homeless nature approached him for a handout he could feel confident his money was going towards food* and not a-a-a-a-a-alcohol.

(*food = this was also before Eric Schlosser and the rest of the Fast Food Nation would tell us the ingredients and preparation of many a McD's menu item, effectively ruining chicken nuggets for the rest of humankind.)(Who am I kidding?  Chicken nuggets are still awesome.)

I was thinking about Mr. Grant's coupons the other day as I was accosted by yet another person suffering from an irascible nature.  These people seem to be everywhere.  Walking by on the sidewalks, shopping in our stores, dining in our restaurants, texting while their kids play forlornly alone at the playground.

They are easily recognized because they look like they are personally offended simply by your presence.  They are hurried, short-tempered, and hindered by a litany of first world problems including being upset that "the Iced Capp machine is being cleaned and therefor unavailable to produce me Iced Capp".  (This may have been a personal experience.)  In short, they are suffering from a disease I like to call Splenetic Syndrome.*

(*this is simply because I'm too radio-friendly to call it the A-hole Syndrome, which I first wanted, and then every alternative I came up with was equally as curse-y and slang-ish.  Then thesaurus.com wouldn't let me search for the swears.  It kept asking me if I really meant "assail" which I didn't, so stop judging me thesaurus.com.)(Also, since I had to settle for crabby, "splenetic" is way more alliterate and has the same meaning.)(Vocabulary word for the day.)

Don't despair about these crabby/splenetic/irascible people, y'all.  I have a plan.

Being election year, I have a taken a page from the politician's handbook and decided to tell you why everyone else is handling this the wrong way be proactive in dealing with these poor, peevish, suffering people.  You see, on my birthday this year (way back in June, don't worry, you can send me a card next year) all I wanted was a Grasshopper cupcake from Just Baked.

It's like glass enclosed happiness.

Well, seeing as the fine people from Just Baked have decided that the grasshopper cupcake is best provided via phone ahead order (who plans a cupcake run?) I had to settle for the next best thing: two Snickerdoodle cupcakes A Just Baked gift card in the amount of one cupcake.

Because I am so committed to authentic blogging I took time to personally visit the fine establishment to capture digitally the glory of the Just Baked gift card because I used my birthday gift card on a triathlon cupcake.  And because it would be rude to waltz into Just Baked and simply take a picture of the gift card, I was morally obligated to purchase and inhale a Chubby Hubby cupcake.  Because I have manners.

I never knew such a gift card existed.  There is now a whole list of gift giving possibilities that could be taken advantage of for an excuse to visit Just Baked.  It's your birthday?  Have a cupcake on me. Valentine's Day?  Here's proof I love you.  The second Tuesday of every month?  Every day is a gift, people.

Thanks to Mr. Grant, here is my plan.  I will keep several Just Baked gift cards in my wallet, each with the amount of the purchase price for one cupcake.  (I think it's about $3.13 if you live in southeastern Michigan.)(Just a rough guess.)(It's not like I go there enough to have the price of one cupcake memorized.)(That would be vaguely loser-y sad the sign of a great memory.)  Every time I run in to someone who could clearly use some good cheer I will

1. Apologize profusely that their day sucks so much because that is the only reason they could possibly have for behaving so poorly.  I, too, have suffered bad days. (But I might have a lot of judgement for people that have awesome lives and are just whiiiiiiiiiners.)
2. Present them with a cupcake gift card.
3. Stand back and watch the joy.

All of this is just a plan in theory at this point.  I haven't actually presented anyone with a gift card yet, so step #3 might actually be 3. Stand back and get cussed out by crabby person who feels super judged to be the recipient of such a gift, but hey, sometimes you have to be willing to sacrifice for others.


In other cupcake news...

Not to brag or anything (totally bragging here) but I made these.  Turns out my best artistic medium is powdered sugar.  Who knew?  And they are vegan.  Woot.

Pee Em Ess

Brian:  Do you know anyone on medication for depression?
Kelly (snorts): It's more like "do I know anyone who is not on medication for depression".  Why?
Brian:  I think you should look into it.
Kelly:  I'm not depressed.  I'm HORMONAL.




So all I can think about today is the finale of Lost and how much it still wrecks me.   I just can't believe that after six seasons together I was left to grieve anew deaths that I handled two or three seasons prior.  I couldn't even fully celebrate the reunions of Charlie and Claire, or Sun and Jin, knowing now that they are like for real gone.  They don't even exist in some fantasy tv world where all the retired characters go to hibernate with the hope that they could return if the network wanted them too.  (And yes, I feel the same way about George from Grey's.)

It was when I was composing a strongly worded letter to the writers of Lost (in my head) that I realized, Dude, Lost's been over for like two years.  Get a grip, Psycho Maybe I'm just ready for my period or something.

(A Rant for Free:  Matthew Fox really needs to get his junk together, man.  Seriously.  Season 1 Jack - who we can all agree is super hot marvelous - is everything Matthew Fox could be, you know, if he pretended to be someone else for the rest of his life.)(And?  I never fully bought the Kate/Jack element.)(But I'm still so torn up I can't even think about Hurley and Libby.)

So.  The Lost Finale is clue #1 that things are about to get menstrual.

Clue #2?  My outrage that Burger King would be so short-sighted as to declare the Hershey Sundae Pie "not a breakfast item."  What?  I live in Michigan, home of the third shift and premenstrual woman about to start another year of homeschool.  There are probably hundreds tens of workers leaving their shift at 7:30 a.m. with one thought in mind:  Hershey Sundae Pie.  And here is Burger King, just ready to disappoint and point out condescendingly that it is only 7:00 a.m. and they would be glad to offer a Cinnabon Minibon instead.  What kind of scam is this?

All you third shifters, the Union men you are, this is when you contact your reps.  They fought for overtime pay, eight hour workdays, weekends ... is it too much to ask to be able to eat some dessert after working hard on the line?

So instead I ate two ding dongs.  Consecutively.  I stopped at two because they ran out I could see the 30 Day Shred video while I was inhaling them at the computer and Jillian Michaels was judging me from the cover.  Then I had a mental fight with Jillian that wasn't nice or fair and I was just feeling vulnerable (and fat) (and crabby) and Jillian was just sitting there with her abs of steel and curvy hips, not even craving a ding dong.

Clue #3 - An extension of the Jillian fight; I've had a mental fistfight with almost every single person to cross my path today.

I went (internally) MMA on the sweet librarian who informed me I'm number eleven on the waiting list for Insurgent, but I totally finished Divergent last night and I'm ready for it now.

Also, Crazy Mom Shopping for School Supplies at Meijer Who's About to Yank the Last 1" Binder Out of My Hands:  I know what you are thinking and yeah, I do smell like onions.  It's because I made fajitas for my family for dinner because I'm a good mom who feeds my kids vegetables. (And I'm buying this binder.)(Also for my kid.)

And finally, CFL Light Bulb that Burned Out A Week Ago but has Yet to be Replaced - why are you so ugly?  Why can't you just be a normal shaped lightbulb?  Someday in the future when people draw comics and they want to illustrate a "lightbulb moment" it's your ugly body they will draw above an enlightened face.  It's so foreign, so wrong.  It's like you've ruined comic books forever.  There goes childhood.  Nice job.

In conclusion,  I should probably take some Midol and wash my yoga pants so I can spend all day tomorrow on the couch doing Corpse Pose.

See?  Totally athletic.

How to Lose 100 Pounds - Nosh Edition

Guess what you don't do a lot of when you are
250 pounds?  Exercise take full body shot pictures.
In every picture I look back on I am either hiding
behind something/someone, or it is a head shot.

Facebook Status:  People frequently ask me how I lost so much weight.  And while the basic principles of "eat less, move more" reign supreme, my secret trick is that every so often I weigh myself and decide that it's okay to have a cupcake for breakfast.  And today was a delicious morning.

So, I used to be 100 pounds heavier.  When people learn that I usually get a lot of questions.  The most frequent is ... HOW DID YOU LOSE IT?  I don't claim to be an expert at weight loss.  I've failed more than I've succeeded through the years.   But this time it worked.  And it keeps working.  The quick stats:

BEFORE:  31 years old, three kids, 5'3", 253 pounds.  (All time non-pregnancy high.)(Pregnancy high, because you're dying to know?  267.)  

Say hello to my little
chins...

This was my sister's wedding.  I was really proud of myself because I'd lost
40 pounds for her big day.  210 pounds.

I'd either just gotten married or was about to.  Circa 2000-2001.

At Hosanna's birthday party in 2008.  I was excited to fit in a juniors extra-large t-shirt.

AFTER: 33 years old, four kids, 5'3.5" (because sometimes when you work out your back gets stronger and your posture improves and you might get a little taller - whaaa?), 148 pounds

Also, fun fact = Because all the pictures of me are winners, here is an especially awesome one of me the day I did the practice triathlon.  It was taken earlier in the day when I was still sick in bed with the flu.  Note the rockin' mom pony with elastic headband.  You better work.

Vacation run with my sis - of course my arm is raised in a victory cheer - it's a vacation run.

Okay, two things.  Yes, I am hiding behind a child again.  But also, it's  a super cute child and he is covered in cake.  So yeah, perfect weight loss picture.

December 2012 - 150 pounds, size 10 dress for Fancy Date with Lauren

I'm going to attempt to do this entire post without using the words "transformation" or "journey".  If I do this you each owe me four new followers dollars.

So, how did I lose 100 pounds?  First I had to learn basic math.  (Thank you, Elementary School.) The science behind weight loss is surprisingly simple when it's stripped down.  I decided to look at weight loss as budgeting.

Louis Vuitton Lockit MM Handbag.
Retail price:  $3650.00

Let's pretend you wanted to buy this Louis Vuitton handbag.  It retails for $3650.00.  If you are anything like me you would need to do some serious saving in order to purchase this bag, because, in the Land of Budgeting, there are no credit cards.  Or personal loans. You have two choices - save the money you are already earning, and/or go make more money and apply it to your Must Have Louis Vuitton fund.

So first, you figure out how much money it takes for you to live.  House, car, food, etc.  Then you figure out the difference between what you earn and what you need.  If you can save $500 a month you can have this purse in (approximately) 7 months.  If you want it before then, sister's gonna have to get an extra job so she can bank more cash.  With me so far?

You do the same with weight loss.  Say you want to lose 20 pounds.  If you can save 500 calories a day you can lose 1 pound a week, reaching your goal in about 5 months. But if you want to reach your goal sooner than that you need to hit up the gym and burn more calories to add to your Must Get Skinny Healthy fund.

That's the idea in theory.  I mean, you could always go and steal a Louis Vuitton handbag, wind up in prison, and eat baloney for the rest of your life.  Or, I suppose you could buy a rip-off L.V., but that's a little like this:

From far away you might fool me, but up close ... c'mon now.

So if you want the real deal - the $3650 Louis Vuitton, the decrease in twenty pounds that shows even when you are naked - how do you budget in real life?  What are the nuts and bolts of application?

A Girl's Gotta Eat

First, go to this calorie calculator and figure out your calorie budget.  Be honest.  (When I renewed my driver's license this June, I saw that the last time I had to report my weight I told a 75 pound lie.)(That's pretty ballsy.)(Or delusional.)(You pick.)  I use the 7 day calorie cycle (zig-zag) for regular old fat loss for two reasons.  1.  I can stick with that range forever.  With the extreme fat loss I can do about a week before I cheat. 2.  Zig-zagging my calories means that I don't plateau (just randomly stop losing weight) as much and I can look forward to a relatively "big" day once a week.  My big day is Tuesday, and I really really love Tuesdays.

Next, buy a calorie counter/download an app/search the internet for the calorie counts of everything you eat, and write them down.  This doesn't have to be all fancy and Pinterest-y;  I've used leftover McDonald's napkins before.  Oh, the delicious irony.  In the beginning I measured or weighed everything.  Now I can eyeball pretty accurately and save measuring for when my weight begins to creep up.  (And it does; how I love you, International Delight Iced Coffee, at 150 calories a cup.)

Finally, stay within your budget.  All the time.

It really is as simple as that.  If you are faithful, you will lose weight.  You don't need special food or crazy methods of eating.  I eat out (big surprise if you are a regular reader, hmmm?) and have never bothered with the specialty diets (i.e. macro nutrients, clean food, low-carb, low-fat, etc.)  The main reason I don't do them is I would never stick to them.  I can't eat low-carb forever so I don't eat low-carb in order to lose weight.  Once I've lost weight I want to keep it off.  And I won't keep it off if I go off my crazy low-carb (or whatever diet, no hate for low-carbers out there) and eat how I was eating before.  Because how I was eating before made me weigh 250 pounds.

A quick warning:  It is easy to get seduced by a "less is more" mentality.  The one that says "If 1600 calories a day helped me lose one pound this week, imagine what 1000 calories a day could do!"  Do you want to know what 1000 calories a day will do to you?  Make you miserable.  And about four days in, 1000 calories will make you binge.  You will eat 3000 calories in one sitting, erasing any deficit you built up and providing a healthy dose of guilt with a side of failure.  Take the extra calories up front; this is a plan for the rest of your life we are talking about here.

I have always chosen foods I love in order to stay within my calorie budget.  I'm not a big salad girl, I hate cottage cheese, and I really have to be in the mood for yogurt.  But I did start to notice (after obsessively responsibly tracking every bite) that certain foods made it easier for me to stay faithful. There were foods that kept me fuller longer, foods that took care of cravings for minimal calories, and foods that, conversely, royally messed me up.  (I'm not pointing any fingers, but um, yeah, any kind of bulk chocolate in the house, I'm talking to you.)

Swoon.

Now I know my body better and can make appropriate, informed food choices.  I've noticed that cereal doesn't really keep me filled up in the morning.  When I eat it I'm usually jonesing for more food mid-morning.  Breakfast is either toast with peanut butter and banana or cold oatmeal with whatever add-ins I'm in the mood for.  I also start every day with a huge splurge - my beloved Iced Coffee.

Lunch has always been a challenge.  I stay at home with the kiddos and we homeschool, so lunch just seems to sneak up and surprise me everyday. (Like, "What the heck, Lunch?  Didn't we just do this yesterday?) Leftovers are popular around here.  Or sandwiches.  I also probably eat one or two frozen diet meals a week for lunch, but I only eat ones I enjoy the taste of, because I will not shove crappy tasting food in my mouth to lose weight.

As for dinners, I eat whatever I am making for the family.  If we are having pizza, we are all having pizza. I just have to be mindful of my calorie intake.  Little Caesar's Hot-N-Ready pizza has about 280 calories a slice.  I can choose to eat two pieces and write down 560 calories for dinner.  But that's all the food I'm getting, so I have to really want that pizza.  (And who doesn't want pizza?)(This has to be the best weight loss post ever.)

So, what's left?  Oh yeah, snacks.  I'm not gonna lie.  I eat snacks whenever I can "afford" them. This might be because I'm a perpetually hungry person, or because I just think eating is fun. (The advice just gets better and better, am I right?)  Since I'm a "quantity" and not a "quality" person when it comes to food, I like things that I can eat a lot of.  Popcorn, grape tomatoes, strawberries, greek yogurt because it takes forever to eat (because I have a process)(because I'm weird), nuts, chocolate covered raisins (see how I sneaked that in?  Like a boss.) ... really, anything is fair game if I can afford it.

To summarize:  How do you lose weight?  Consistently eat less than you do now.

Tomorrow I will post on the other side of my weight loss, in which I had to learn what it was like to sweat like a dude.

If you have any questions, please comment or email me: Sublurbanmama@gmail.com

P.S. FULL DISCLOSURE:  I wrote this entire post eating a Snicker's candy bar.  It was 280 calories of deliciousness, and took approximately 29 minutes of running to burn off.  It was worth every mile.