I went to work on March 6, 2008 knowing that my life would change that day. That was the day, he was coming whether I was ready or not. I would quit being just April and become Aunt April. I’ve taken care of a lot of cousins in my time and I love them all, but this was different. I was going to have a nephew! Three hours later, I drove to the hospital. When I got to the room, my brother walked to me with the proudest of looks on his face and placed his son in my arms. And I fell in love. With all 4 lbs 9 oz of him. He was so tiny! And oh, just listen to him sigh. That had to be the sweetest sound I have ever heard in my life! He simply took my breath away.

He's the first grandchild in our family, so to watch how my parents have completely transformed into these people called Grandma and Grandpa has been amusing. And watching my nephew grow these past ten months has been a complete joy. Like all babies, he’s so curious and full of life. Instead of trying to learn to crawl, he’s trying his hardest to just walk instead. When he’s hungry, he wants it now, and not in the length of time that it takes you to get it ready. He hates a wet diaper, but would sit in a poopy one all day long if you let him. And he’s cutting his first tooth, which makes him just so darn cute! Last week, when I got my first real hug from him, I fell in love with him all over again (which I‘ve done about a hundred times already).

I have an uncle who has no children. I can remember once when I was a kid, the grown-ups were talking, and my uncle pointed to the four of us (my two cousins, my brother, and me) and said, “they are my children.” That’s the only part of the conversation I heard, but it always stuck with me. I never understood what he meant by that. I’m thirty years old, and I have no children of my own. Until recently, that bothered the crap out of me. I mean, I just knew that by the time I was thirty, I would be married and have kids. Heck, it’s all I wanted for the longest time. Then years passed, and as I grew and changed, so did my life. Now I just don’t know what I want in my future. I like the idea of a family of my own, but I’m not sure that I love the idea. And for now, I am ok with that. While I’m sure that love for my own child would be no comparison to the love I have for my nephew, I think back to that day and what my uncle said, “they are my children.” And I look at my nephew and I understand exactly what my uncle meant.

This is my first weigh-in with the girls (and boy) from the Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans. If you haven’t gone over and checked the site out…go. Seriously, go now! The challenge is Looking Fine for Valentines. My goal: to break through this damn plateau. If it’s not this week, next, or even the week after, by the end of this challenge I WILL break through this plateau. So, let’s see how I did.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! What in the world? For a split second I’m wondering why the alarm clock is going off a full 30 minutes earlier than normal, then I realize…today is weigh-in Wednesday. I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, I’m anxious to see if I can finally get below 153 pounds. On the other hand what if I gained? I step on the scales, and I suddenly feel like I’m a contestant on the game show Press Your Luck but instead of cheering for “big money”, I’m cheering for a lower number, and “no whammies!” Come on, lower number, no whammy, no whammy, no whammy! STOP!

OMG! It’s a loss! I did it! I broke the plateau! I’m at 151.4! No more 153 lbs! I vow to never see that number on the scales again!! (Side note: should I decide one day to have a child and get back to the 150s, I will not see 153. I’ve decided I’m gonna skip over it.) I was at 153 for months and truly sick of seeing that number on the scales. I took a break from losing weight and weekly weigh-ins because of it. But now, even though it‘s not as big of a number that I was accustomed to seeing when I began all of this a year a ago, I’ll definitely take it!


Starting weight: 153.0
Today’s weight: 151.4

I bought a set of scales yesterday. For the past year, I've been weighing myself once a week at my parents' house. Now, it was time to get my own set. Since I was a teenager, I had a fear of the scales. It was so bad that I didn't get on a set of scales for years. I don't even know how many years. I wasn't like those folks on the Biggest Loser (which is one of my favorite shows, by the way), so I didn't need to get on those stupid scales. I exercised for crying out loud, it couldn't be that bad, right? Right? Then one day...

I was working out in our gym at work, and I felt really good about my 30 minutes on the elliptical. I FELT like I had lost a little weight, so it couldn't be that bad. Let's see what they say, I thought. Um, wow, I wonder if these scales are broken. No worries. There's another set right over there. They'll be right. I'm sure there's something wrong with the first set-whoa. Are you kidding me?? What.The.Hell. I had a bigger problem than I thought. This HAD to be fixed.

Thus, began the weekly weigh-in. Once a week, at my parents' house. I still had enough of a fear of them that I didn't want them in MY house. But slowly, that fear became determination, and the scales became a tool that I needed to succeed in my weight loss journey. Now I have my own, and I'm anxiously awaiting Wednesday which will mark the beginning of my love/hate relationship with my scales. I will weigh in and if I've broken the plateau, I will love them. If I'm still at the same weight or if, God help me, I gain, then I'll try my best not to throw them out of the window. :o)

I bought a set of scales today which is a big step for me, but with joining the challenge of at the Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans (go check 'em out!), I thought it just made more sense than having to drive to my parents' every week. So I was all set to talk about how both excited and frightened I am about having scales in my house (I think they're staring at me even right now), and my brother went and ruined it.

Without going into details, let's just say that my relationship with my brother is strained. Since we were teenagers, we have fought a lot, but last year I thought we were really trying become closer since my brother now has a kid. Then a few months ago it all went to hell. I really don't want to go into the details of that horrible night, but let's just say that my brother should feel extremely lucky that I am even talking to him at this point because I honestly haven't forgiven him yet for what he did, and I really don't know when that forgiveness will come. Really, the ONLY reason I'm talking to him is so that I can still see my nephew. It's just like every time we're around each other, he finds something (intentional or not) to make me feel like a complete failure at life. For example: I recently admitted to my family that I'm no longer sure if I want children. Please don't get me wrong. I love kids. I'm good with them. I'm just not sure I want one. And because I've said that, you'd think that I threw all of my knowledge about kids out of the window. Hello!!!! I've changed more diapers, and fed more babies more bottles than my brother has. I even took care of 15 month old twins every day, 8-10 hours a day for 4 months when I was in college. I think I know what to do. And ok, I know it's his kid. I get it. I really do, but you don't have to treat me like I know nothing. So you know what? I'm not a failure at life. In fact, I think I've done a heck of a job in my life thus far. Just because it isn't how he would have done things means nothing to me. If all of our lives were exactly the same, the world would be extremely boring, wouldn't it? So, I refuse to let him make me feel like crap because I'm forever single or because I'm childless or because he makes more money than I do. Whatever, dude.

As a few of you know, I tend to hold things in until I'm ready to explode, so the fact that I didn't today is major (it's a personal goal for 2009). And having said all of that...whew...I feel much better now.

A couple of good things about today: Got a great big hug from my nephew, and I got a new cute coffee mug!! I love getting new coffee mugs!

As I sit here on this Saturday night, I can’t help but notice that ALL of my animals are either quiet or sleeping. All of them. This is a rare happening in my house. I’m afraid to move because I know if I do, the calm will be no more. Thing that stinks about that is that I really have to go to the bathroom. I honestly could start a whole separate blog about them, but for now this will do. So, let me introduce you to The Zoo (really didn’t mean to make that rhyme. I swear.).

Neville: Neville is a cinnamon pearl white-face cockatiel and the baby of all of my animals at 2. He’s also the only male in the house. The thing I love about Neville is that he’s probably the sweetest bird I have ever met and he’s in love with my mom. When she comes into the room he whistles and calls and tells us what a “pretty bird” he is. The one thing that I could do without when it comes to Neville is when he mocks the dog toys. When he goes into squeak mode, it’s “squeak, squeak, squeak” for what seems to be an hour at a time.

Kelci: At 4, my black sable German Shepherd is my baby. I’ve had her since she was 7 weeks old. She was only 6 lbs the day I brought her home and sick. I nursed her back to health and now, 59 lbs later, she likes to be by my side ALL THE TIME. Yes, yes, this is cute and all, but give a girl a break. There are some things I need to do without the help of an escort. That said, it amuses me that she’s learned to open the screen door, turn on the water faucet, and un-latch the backyard gate. Sometimes when I talk to her, I half expect her to answer me back. She’s also my walking buddy. We both love it.

Bayleigh: Now, I love my 6 year old tri-color Cocker Spaniel. I really do. However, I will never own another Cocker Spaniel ever again. To those of you who love the breed, I’m sorry. I swear to you she’s ADHD. And while she’s calmed down a lot, she has still made it her life mission to sniff down the entire house every night. I get tired just watching her. My favorite thing about her though is that she gives actual hugs. She’ll come over and rest her head on your shoulder. I know, right?

Cagney: Cagney is my Congo African Grey Parrot. A co-worker made the decision that she could no longer care for Cagney and knew that I loved animals and there ya go. I’m not quite sure how old she is, but my guess is around 10. She has the vocabulary and emotions of a two year old. I really think she only likes me because she doesn’t have a choice. If she had the chance, I know she’d take Kelci’s nose off. And while she’s completely mean, she cracks me up (she just burped). I find myself sometimes watching her instead of the TV. However, there are times that she will scream, and I know she does this just to piss me off.

Charlotte: Charlotte is my dog, but lives with my parents. See previous and future posts on Charlotte. She’s way too special to get just a few lines.

So now you know why I’m amazed that the house is so quiet right now. But I’m afraid I can no longer hold it and must go to the bathroom. So here we go….

Oh wow, two posts in a week? Jeez. But, something someone said to me today got me thinking. And those of you who know me, KNOW that sometimes can be a dangerous thing. Just sayin. :o)

A girl at work complimented me today on my weight loss. It blows my mind that I'm still getting compliments. And the question, "were you trying to lose weight" amuses me. First of all, I've not been out of work and I don't look sick, so yes, I've been trying to lose weight. But I guess that the issue of weight loss can be a touchy subject, so instead of saying "here's your sign", I just smile, nod, and thank them for the compliment. (Note: in the past I would probably have not taken the compliment well and would shyly nod or something, but now I proudly say, "Yes, I have lost a lot of weight". I've worked hard dangit.) Anyway, so then she asks me was it hard to lose the weight. I have trouble with this question because part of me wants to scream, yes it's hard, I've worked my ass off. But honestly, once you have all of the puzzle pieces in front of you and you figure out what works for you, it isn't hard at all.

Now, is it tedious? Can be. Is it a struggle? Sometimes. But it isn't hard. No seriously. It isn't. So, if you want to know my secret, here it is: there is no secret! It's "calories in" versus "calories out". That's it. Simple math, right? Now, for those of you that are thinking what a headache counting calories would be, you're right. At first, it stinks. I had to first figure out how many calories a day I was eating. Once I had that, I figured out my BMR (Basal Metabolic Rate: this basically is how many calories you burn in a day if you just sit and do nothing), then I set my calorie limit that would sustain me, but create a deficit. So, basically what this means is that I can have anything I want as long as I stay within that limit. Additionally, I made the choice to cut out as many processed foods as possible. This gives my body the right kinds of foods to fuel my body for working out. Which is the next part. I created (with the help of my fitness hero #1), an exercise plan that I could follow no matter what my schedule is. If there are days/weeks that I can allow for more exercise, awesome, if not, then that's cool too. Also, I started strength training. For years and years, all I could think was cardio, cardio, cardio. Which is fine, but strength training builds muscle which in turn boosts your metabolism. Once I put all of these puzzle pieces together, the weight started to melt off. And eventually I learned how many calories things have in them, and really don't have to journal how much I eat. (I will spot check myself every so often.)

Of course that's the short of it. There are dozens of details that I could talk about all day. But I won't (unless you want to know). And if some of you think that it sounds familar, it's basically what they do with the contestants on the Biggest Loser. The key is to figure out how many calories are right for you (but NEVER go below 1200!). Or really, the key is to figure out what method works for you. If it's Weight Watchers, great! If it's another program, great! The point is to remember a diet isn't something that you go on and come off, your diet is how you eat (thank you, Bob).

First, let me say, for those who are interested, I will continue my story on Charlotte soon.

So, thanks to some newfound online friends (girls, you know who you are!), I’ve decided to come back to the blog. It’s not like I quit writing on purpose…it’s just been a rough few months. That said, HELLO 2009! I am so glad you are here. And good-bye 2008...how I won’t miss you. You sucked. (Sorry, but you did.)

Well most of it did anyway. It rocked in the fact that I am down 53 lbs (yep, you read that right) AND I managed to maintain during the holidays. I can’t tell you how stoked I am. This holiday season I found that I could enjoy all of my favorites (even dark beer), and not go crazy with it. If I wanted a slice of cake or drink a pint of Winter Lager, dangit, I was going to have it, and that’s ok.

Which brings me to what I have decided to talk about in this post. Learning to not deprive myself of my favorites, but to not go too crazy was a harder thing that I thought. The thing is, I am not a binge eater. I never have been, but during the holidays I probably would go a little crazy because, after all, “it’s the holidays”! This holiday season, I decided I needed a break from being militant with diet and exercise because of personal reasons and because I have hit the dreaded plateau. That’s right a plateau. For weeks and weeks I’ve been stuck at 53 lbs lost and I have 23 to go! And as fabulous as losing 53 lbs is, I hate plateaus. Seriously. I hate them more than the new Knight Rider. But I know that this is my body’s way of thinking it’s starving. If feels like it needs to hang onto those 23 lbs. It’s your body’s instinct to do this. That’s why losing 30 lbs or less is a whole different ball game than losing 50 or more. So, the answer to the problem (I hope), was a break. I exercised only two days a week and for the most part stayed within my calorie allowance, but if I wanted one of those homemade cookies that my grandmother made, well I had two. I just didn’t have five. Christmas Day, I ate whatever I wanted. And I enjoyed my New Year’s. Ok, confession: New Year‘s I went a little insane with food and drink, but it was my first New Year’s out of the house in years. And due to womanly reasons, I cannot be held responsible for my calorie intake on New Year's. :) My point is that going a LITTLE crazy is ok. It really is. So, if you’re in a plateau or just feel like you need a break, take it. Just be mindful and don’t go too crazy. My body, my mind, and my soul needed that month or so off.

Now, that said, it is a whole new year. A whole new ball game. And it’s time to refocus, put down the dark beer (and switch to lite. Dudes, I‘m not completely giving up beer. It‘s not going to happen.), pick up the clean, healthy foods, exercise my arse off, and lose these stubborn 23 lbs. I know it’s going to be a battle, but hopefully for now my body realizes that I’m not trying to starve it. I’m going to get this body in the best shape it has ever been in. I’ve promised myself that. So, 2009, welcome! It’s gonna be a good year.