Obsession: the cure to the Obesity Epidemic.

the secret to weight loss is Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. 

i've been trying for 7+ months now to lose the baby weight and i've finally found a way to do it.

i live, sleep, eat and breathe Obsession.  when i wake up i prepare myself for dissappointment in the breakfast department. no pop tarts, no cinnamon rolls, no apple pie, no 8 cupcakes from the baking foray the night before...

just plain ol' fiber packed cereal and light soymilk. maybe coffee.

then i spend the next few hours trying to distract myself from how hungry i am. i run around with my son, i log my caloric intake and sob internally, i go up and down the stairs repeatedly and seemingly aimlessly in an attempt to destroy the calories from breakfast, and i foolishly dream of cupcakes.

then lunch time. i pick and choose my meal, attempting to find something that fills me and still meets the parameters of the calories that i've allowed myself to eat by 1pm.  this usually ends up being way less than i feel like i should be ingesting.

so i die a little bit inside.

afternoon.... i hope and pray that the Angel Baby takes a nap so that i can sleep away some of the time between my pitiful meager lunch and the looming glory of dinner....sometimes he does and it's splendid. other times i agonize for hours, doing squats here and there, leg lifts while i watch Ronin play with his toys on the floor, donkey kicks to fix my "saggy booty" as my lover so gingerly labeled it.

every now and again, i hit the gym and frantically/manically attempt to pulverize my fat with as much cardio as i can squeeze in between the time i get there and the time that the nursery attendants come inform me that my darling child has transformed into a screaming banshee. those are the glorious days; the days when i can feel the jiggle being released from my body in the form of pain and sweat.

but all these days end the same. i put my Superior Man-child to bed and stay up doing crunches and booty-squeezy things for about another hour or so, feeling fat and hating...so much... that i am.... so large.


now. this may seem like an overreaction, but that's because no one but myself can truly understand the love affair that i have with food.

except doughnuts. and licorice. those are pure satanic fodder, no matter what my husband would have you believe.

i do, truly, love food.  i love that creamy, smooth feel of perfectly baked cheesecake hitting my tongue. i love the salty cheesy warm hug that a cheeseburger gives my mouth. i love the satisfying mastication of pasta and its rich and hearty weight as it hits my stomach and lets me know that it's all okay because soon i won't be hungry anymore. i love the gooey chocolatey goodness of a hot-out-of-the-oven homemade chocolate chip cookie. and i love the fluffy sugary bliss of a citrus cupcake (orange cake, maraschino cherry pushed into the middle as a surprise, lemon frosting, and sprinkles) as it hits my tastebuds and sends me into a feeding frenzy.

so this "not eating whatever my body demands" and "watching my calorie intake" just sucks balls.

every day i feel like having an infantile temper tantrum. but i don't. because i don't want Ronin thinking that that's the proper reaction to not having 4 Meat extra cheese pizza.


sheesh. even as i type this i'm salivating.



Krista's Thoughts (waaaaaaaay) Before Bedtime:

1.  so some math symbols, pi (3.14......) and i (the square root of -1)  got into a fight the other day. i didn't hear all of it, but i did here the end. i said "be rational!!" and pi said "get real!!"  . guffaw. i love math jokes.

2.  ladies, if you cherish your carefully sculpted abs, then NEVER let anyone slice through them in attempts to pull your offspring out of you. i mean, if you can help it.

3.  i proclaim DEATH to this 48+ hour headache. i'ma try the tylenol again, but if it doesn't go away i'm getting the chisel and going after it Dr. Stein style! and if it works, i could be the best doctor in Orange County! (get it? get it?)

4.  i love a mild Boston accent.

5.  i'd be such a good mom if only i wasn't so much of an airhead. i went to Northern VIRGINIA in the FALL. OCTOBER. and didn't pack any long pants for my son. NONE. oh. my. god i'm retarded. it was supposed to be in the low seventies, and i get here and it's "a high of 55 degrees today" and i'm looking like a terrible mother because my poor perfect offspring is forced to romp around in a one-sie and shorts. thank God for daddy bringing long pants by, and Old Navy for having the things that i forgot.

6.  iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'm so hungry i'm having trouble having thoughts about anything else.

7.  hmm.... Sarah Jessica Parker really does have a horse face.

8.  i think i'd like to have a bear as a pet. a nice gentle bear that i could saddle up and ride. we'd saunter into town and growl at everyone and they'd be forced to give us free cheesecake. and liposuction.

9.  if a vampire gets a splinter, does he "die"? cuz... it's kind of like a mini-wooden stake... discuss.

10.  i got whistled at today as i was pushing Ronin to the park in his stroller. YES!!! i can still be sexually objectified by men!! i haven't completely lost "it"!! i can still be considered as desirable enough to merit a casual out-the-window-drive-by whistle!! woot! so maybe there's hope for me yet. i'm nowhere NEAR being as hot and tempting as those slutty little perfect bodied women that i envy soooo much.... but at least i'm not a lost cause. some day, some glorious day, i'll be physically attractive enough to "get off" to.  i still have my goals and hopes and dreams.

Birthiversary of Death

usually, i take an entire week surrounding September the 9th in order to properly celebrate my general awesomeness, and the fact that i've been on this Earth shedding my happy aura all over it for another glorious year.  because my birthday is BIGGER than just one day.  since Mike and i have been married, we rolled our anniversary and his birthday into this week long extravaganza; we got married September 10th, and his birthday is on the 14th.  we call it "Birthiversary Week". and it is an overwhelming 7 day expression of love, joy, happiness, and usually way too much sugar.

however.

this year, Birthiversary Sucked Ass. i very nearly died. it was nearly a class 7 catastrophe.  oh yeah. and Mike almost kicked off too.


i decided on the 7th to get some Wendy's for Mike and I for lunch; spicy chicken sandwiches - Mike's favorite thing to get at Wendy's.  i returned home from the restaurant triumphant, feeling all high and mighty and like the Best Wife Ever for getting Mike something delicious and surprising him.

we ate lunch. i had gotten some chicken nuggets in addition to my sandwich.  (enter ominous death music)

i ate one... it tasted funny. like the oil it had been cooked in was at least 8 months old and tainted with metal shavings. but somehow, i muscled through eating the rest of them, save one, which i pressured Mike into eating.

after we ate, Mike went back to work. i spent the next four hours feeling nauseated and having the familar urge to barf and barf thoroughly. Mike got home that evening, i handed off the child, and commenced to spraying the toilet bowl with my innards. this contined for several hours, me barfing, Mike making fun of me, telling me that i have a weak constitution and that i should toughen up, me barfing some more, me barfing into a bucket whilst breastfeeding my son (which takes a certain measure of finesse so as not to vomit on the child), Mike still making fun of me, and me barfing like a champ.

i got the boy in bed, and i had stopped spewing so i went to bed. after all, we had to fly out the next day. then Mike got sick. very loudly. for several hours. HAHAHAHHAHA. i was totally sympathetic while he was ralphing, but now it is hilarious. that's what he gets for taunting me and pointing and laughing while my diseased insides were exploding out of my mouth.

the next day, tired, dehydrated and weak, we hopped on the plane. then we hopped on another plane. sat on the tarmac for an hour before it decided to take off, then hopped on another plane. we got in around 1 am. it was STUPID how tired we were. 

the next day, my birthday, we went to my Great Grandmother's funeral. we spent all day it seemed like traveling in a tiny car. with no air conditioning. hell, with no air anything. just 6 people in a tiny sedan, moist, stuffy, cramped, and i got car sick. i felt like death warmed over all day.

the next day was our anniversary. we spent the day having our flight delayed, flying all day, and spending a three hour lay-over in Atlanta.

Ronin was an angel, of course, during all of this. thank God. because i think i might have had to disembowel myself with a sharpened rubix cube if he had been all sick and screamy.

but the trip eventually ended, we got back to Retard-o-Georgia and life is better now.

next year, Birthiversary Week better rock.


Krista's Thoughts Before Bedtime:

1. the most terrifying supernatural creature is the Werekitten. you know, like a werewolf but it's a kitten. a werekitten. think about it. one minute it's all "i'm cute and fluffy and batting your strings around" and the next it's ripping your limps from your bloody stump of a body and laughing madly in the moonlight.      terrifying.

2.  Ronin Sneaky Puked me today. i was carrying him around and we were singing silly songs and all of the sudden there's a fountain of used-to-be-milk all over my pants and right foot. and he just looks up at me and grins. the little rascal.

3.  i lost two pounds since last week. which is awesome. although i'm sitting here typing and stuffing my face with peanut m&ms.

4.  i got a new phone. for those of you that know me and my attatchment to my old phone, this is SHOCKING news.  i've had the same old broken cracked po-dunk phone now for four years. and i really didn't want to get rid of it. i called it Old Trusty. but Mike got a new awesome interwebs capable phone and i got one for free so.... yeah. i only accepted the new phone on the condition that we give Old Trusty a proper Viking Funeral. you know, the old phone in a shoe box, floating down a river, all aflame. Rest in Peace my old friend.

5.  my new phone is so awesome i want to make sweet sweet love making with it. or at least just cuddle it. probably just cuddle. don't want to put the moves on my new phone too quickly, can't have it thinking i'm a technology whore.

6.  i'm a very specific kind of telepathic. i can somehow, magically, tell what my husband wants to eat for lunch the next day, without him telling me, and i will eat it before he gets a chance to. then he will accuse me of "sabotaging" his lunchings, and i will deny his allegations, and then i'll make plans to eat something else and inevitably he will tell me after i've masticated it that he had deliberate plans to eat it.  it's a talent. Mike's awfully cute when he threatens to divorce me over little things like that.

7.  i've started having a cup of coffee a day.  i've joined millions of Americans and have purchased a coffee maker machine technology apparatus.  i now drug myself everyday.  i made this decision after several nights of waking up wayyyyyyy too often to soothe a crying child. specifically last night. he woke up EVERY HOUR AND A HALF. it was beyond ridiculous.  my son loves me.

8.  Mike destroyed yet ANOTHER pair of my glasses this week. my favorite sunglasses. that's why i call him the destroyer.  he dances joyfully in my tears.

9.  it's been nearly a month since my son has Ninja Peed on me. SUCCESS!!!!!

10.  birthdays aren't supposed to suck. it still feels like i haven't had one. Mike insisted that his was no big deal this year, which makes me feel kind of stupid and childish for getting so excited about mine.  i didn't even get a cupcake.



and y'all KNOW how i feel about cupcakes.