Posts Tagged ‘ weight ’

My Embarrassing New Year’s Confession

Wednesday, January 2nd, 2013

Cynthia Roelle, mom to a 2-year-old daughter and award-winning photographer, shares a New Year’s confession … about her underwear! Read Cynthia’s guest blog every other Wednesday.

Screw the resolution, this year I thought I’d start off with a New Year’s confession. My underwear is 50 shades of gray. I’m not talking S&M or anything remotely approaching the realm of erotica. I’m talking about the saddest assortment of shabby panties you’ve ever seen (or could imagine).

Like any woman I’ve always had my A and B sets of underwear. The former was reserved for special occasions; the latter for everyday wear. They were all quite attractive and not a pair in the drawer was gray.

But over the years (yes, years) my once-pretty panties have practically disintegrated. Every last pair has become stretched and faded and frayed. I’ve literally worn them to dull, shapeless shreds of material.

The situation reached this drab state because I couldn’t bring myself to buy bigger underpants. Granny panties, blech.

Just when I thought my underwear situation couldn’t get any worse, I started losing weight. As it turns out, elastic doesn’t zip back into shape after you’ve stretched it beyond all reason for three years. Add saggy and baggy to 50 shades of gray and you don’t get a pretty picture.

At long last, I decided it was time to spring for new underpants. Undies with springy, fully-functioning elastic. After all, I’m down 20+ pounds (a Christmas miracle!) and I’m thrilled about it.

So, I’m starting 2013 with only a few pounds left to lose and a drawer full of pretty, new undies. We’re not talking Victoria’s Secret here but still, they’re nice. I’m so happy.

I didn’t want to offend anyone with a picture of my underwear (old or new) so instead I included a picture from New Years Eve—first night out with my new underwear! (and a new dress to boot!)

What’s your New Year’s confession?

Add a Comment
Back To Fearless Feisty Mama

10 Things I’m Thankful for This Thanksgiving

Wednesday, November 21st, 2012

Cynthia Roelle, mom to a 2-year-old daughter and award-winning photographer, shares her saga to lose the “baby weight” and reunite with her formerly slender self.

There can’t be much worse for my diet than a holiday synonymous with gluttonous overeating. I could spend today chewing over the setback tomorrow could bring. Or I could focus on what I have to be thankful for about my weight loss plan. I chose the latter.

10. I’m thankful I had only 25 pounds to lose. That is, as opposed to 30, 40, 50 or more.

9. I’m thankful for my husband, most days. When I told my husband I wanted to lose 25 pounds he said all the right things. It’s just that, well, he kept talking. For some reason he felt compelled to point out how hard it was going to be to stick to my plan through the holidays. I could have punched him. When I started back in September the holidays weren’t on my radar.

8. I’m thankful for crappy Halloween candy. Halloween could have been a nightmare but for the fact that I waited until the last hour to buy candy. You know, when the selection was crap. Forget doling it out a piece at a time. We gave it away by the fistfuls. Every last piece. There was no bucketful of leftovers to tempt me through New Year’s.

7. I’m thankful I started my diet when I did. Come January 2nd, when the gym is packed with walking New Year’s Resolutions, I’ll be just one week away from my goal weight.

6. I’m thankful for Lose It! It’s an app. It’s free. And I’m here to tell you it is gold money. I’ve already lost 15 pounds.

5. I’m thankful I’ve already lost 15 pounds. I figured that was worth repeating. It’s like a whole turkey.

4. I’m thankful for tofu, but not tofurky. My brother-in-law is so worried I’ll be serving tofurky tomorrow he’s planning to bring his own bird. As a quasi-vegetarian I enjoy a soggy block of tofu as much as the next guy but tofurky just doesn’t cut the mustard.

3. I’m thankful I don’t own elastic waistband pants. If ever there was a day to be thankful for the elastic waistband, surely it is Thanksgiving. But I’m thankful that even in my darkest, fattest hour, I never succumbed to this fashion catastrophe.

2. I’m thankful I won’t be serving muffin tops with Thanksgiving dinner. I can probably speak for everyone at our table on this one. Having pants that fit is definitely something to be thankful for.

1. I’m thankful for my baby, despite the baby weight. There’s no amount of weight to be gained or lost that could change how thankful I am for my sweet little girl. She’s worth every last ounce, and then some.

Diet-wise, that just about rounds out the holiday for me. If you’re also dieting through the holidays, let me know what you’re thankful for. And if you have any tips to get through tomorrow I’d like to hear those too!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Add a Comment
Back To Fearless Feisty Mama

Who Wears the Pants in This Family?

Tuesday, November 6th, 2012

Cynthia Roelle, mom to a 2-year-old daughter and award-winning photographer, shares her saga to lose the “baby weight” and reunite with her formerly slender self.

After nearly three years of being too fat to fit into anything I own, I’m happy to report I’ve lost some weight. I’m not ready to say how much, but enough that this past weekend I decided to foray into my closet to take stock of my pants. We’re talking about pants that haven’t seen the light of day for years.

I tried on every last pair, even ones I knew would never make it over my hips. Here’s what I have, by pile:

Pile 1 is the A-Girl-Can-Dream pile. These pants are at least 10 years old and are deplorably out of style. I will almost surely never again fit into a single pair on this pile, but the skinny girl in me can’t bring herself to part with them.

Pile 2 is the Picture-of-Fitness pile. All of the pants in this pile fit, oh, a mere six years ago. I bought them when I said goodbye to the Army and traded in my uniforms for girl clothes. This is my goal pile, though I should probably step up the Fitness if they’re ever going to fit again.

Pile 3 is the Denial pile. I bought these around the time the clothing manufacturers started monkeying with the sizes (as if there was ever a standard). That was back when size 8 was the new size 4.

Pile 4 is the I’ve-Already-Lost-a-Full-Pant-Size-and-I’m-Pretty-Happy-About-It pile. I bought these somewhere between my Denial and Fat-Ass stage. This is my current go-to pile.

Pile 5 is the Fat-Ass pile. It consists of the two pair of threadbare jeans I’ve been wearing since my daughter was born. That was two years ago. T-W-O.

Last but not least is Pile 6, the What-I-Would-Wear-if-I-Were-to-Workout pile. It’s also known as the Pajama pile.

Okay, so once I went through all these, I was ready to stash them back in the closet when my daughter woke from her nap. I went off to get her and forgot about the pants.

Fast forward a few hours. My husband came home and headed upstairs to change.

“Are these my pants?” he shouted.

Instant sinking feeling. My pants were still on the bed.

“I don’t know, what pants are they?” I bellowed back.

“They’re Old Navy…khakis.”

Ahh crap. Pile 3. Denial. Top of the heap.

What happened next is not something I’m proud of. I sprinted upstairs and there he stood wearing my pants.

ARGHHHHH! And to make matters worse, THEY WERE TOO BIG ON HIM! God help me.

Me: “No they’re not your pants! Take them off! TAKE THEM OFF!”

This is not the confidence boost I was hoping for when I got the bright idea to try on pants. But at least I have a new goal: look better in my pants than my husband does.

Add a Comment
Back To Fearless Feisty Mama

Why I’m Sick Of Being Fat

Wednesday, October 24th, 2012

Hey guys! Jill here. I want to introduce you to a good friend of mine who is going to be blogging for me every other week. I’m so excited for her to share her funny stories and sagas. She has an incredibly interesting life that you’ll get to know over time. But right now, she is working on losing the baby weight and is looking for suggestions. Here’s…Cynthia!

Cynthia Roelle, mom to a 2-year-old daughter and award-winning photographer, shares her saga to lose the “baby weight” and reunite with her formerly slender self.

If my friend Jill can blog about her embarrassing pregnancy problem, taking antidepressants while pregnant, losing her mom and her rather gruesome labor story, then surely I can be candid too. So here’s my confession:

My ass is fat.

Okay, so it’s not quite on par with Jill’s divulgences. It’s hardly private; anyone can see I have a fat ass. But still, it’s hard to admit.

After my daughter was born people would tell me how good I looked for just having had a baby. Truth be told, they were right. I didn’t gain a ton during my pregnancy and I’m tall (5’8”) so the extra pounds were easy to hide. In maternity clothes.

Unfortunately, I’m past the point where it’s socially acceptable to wear maternity clothes. For one thing, I’m not pregnant and for another, my baby turned two in July.

That leaves me with exactly two things in my closet I can squeeze my fat ass into. Both are post-pregnancy purchases. Both are pretty worn. And both are getting tighter by the day. Therein lies the rub:

I refuse to buy any more fat clothes. I am not that person. Besides, I have a closet full of beautiful clothes. They just don’t fit. Too bad they’ll be hopelessly out of fashion when my fat no longer bulges the buttons and strains the seams. But that’s a problem for another day.

Right now I’m sick of using my daughter as an excuse for not exercising, I’m sick of looking like a dumpy hausfrau and I’m sick of having a closet full of clothes I can’t wear. Bottom line: I’m sick of being fat.

Just how fat are we talking? Here’s a visual: I’m about two 10-pound bags of sugar, one 4-pound bag plus another 1-pound box of sugar over my goal weight. In case you weren’t adding, that’s 25 pounds. On my ass. Sugar buns, it is not.

I may not have the brass pair that Jill has but there it is. My ass is fat and I’m sick of it, but I have a plan. (A butt plan, if you will.) One pound per week for 25 weeks, sooner if all goes well. If Jill will indulge me, I’ll check in with updates on my progress. And when it’s all said and done, I’ll even let you know how I did it.

In the meantime, I want to hear from you if you’ve ever used your child as an excuse for being fat!

Add a Comment
Back To Fearless Feisty Mama

Emmett’s Weight Loss–Kind Of

Thursday, May 31st, 2012

Okay. It’s worse than it sounds. Emmett hasn’t actually lost weight. But he’s gone off his curve a bit.

When he was diagnosed with reflux about a month ago, we put him on Zantac. At that point his weight was in the 30th percentile. Two weeks later, at a follow up appointment, he had jumped into the 50th percentile. So it came with great surprise today at his 4-month check up that he has dropped into the 28th percentile and fallen off his curve.

I asked her to double check the numbers. He gained a pound in a month but he should have gained more I guess. He is 13 pounds, 12 ounces. He is super happy and incredibly active. So much so, she did say that he might be burning up more calories than the average 4-month old, thus not keeping his weight up with the curve. Nevertheless, because of his reflux issue, she was a bit concerned.

She also put him on his stomach and said he should be lifting his head up more. This is a boy who was ahead of his game at 2 months on his tummy. But then he developed the reflux and tummy time kind of went out the window. Apparently it shows. Thing is, he’s uncomfortable on his stomach and he barfs.

All this to say, I got quite discouraged. Between the visit and my angst over reading Bringing Up Bebe, I am doubting my mom instincts. We have no schedule–day or night. He isn’t staying on the curve. Yet he seems so damn lively. He rarely cries. He coos constantly. I mean, to what extent do I worry? She suggested I try a little rice cereal on a spoon to see if he is ready for solids. Perhaps that way he can put on some weight and keep the milk down. Okay, I can try that. But she also suggested an occupational therapist to see if he is sucking properly. Perhaps he is sucking down too much air, she said. Honestly, I am rolling my eyes.  Does that seem a bit extreme? Seriously? I think he is doing just fine. As for the lack of schedule, she also said not to worry too much. Sleep training? Don’t think about it until 6 months or so. I should be relieved that the pressure is off. But I’m not.

This is why I hate going to the pediatrician. All the information is contradictory.

With Fia, my Brooklyn doctor said no rice cereal. It’s bland and boring. Introduce flavors. I did and she is an adventurous eater, though not a big one. Her weight gains are small, though they are on the curve. They said sleep train between 2-4 months. We did it at 4 1/2 months and she sleeps like a champ. They said get on a schedule (though I never really mastered that until 18 months). However, they refused to give her Zantac and I know she had reflux. I was so frustrated in becoming a human burp cloth that I gave up breastfeeding with her at 4 months. So who to believe?

In the end, I know Emmett will gain weight, stop barfing, sleep through the night and get on a schedule. Especially if I commit to making those latter two happen and experiment with his feedings a little more. But I’m still sitting here debating if I really need an occupational therapist. I mean, the kid sucks like a champ. It sounds like a giant waste of time.

This all seems more complicated than it needs to be. I am a veteran at this. It shouldn’t be this difficult.

Have I made your head spin? Mine too.

Add a Comment
Back To Fearless Feisty Mama