"Honey, Can I pleeeaaaasssseeee get a boob job?"

"If you lose all of your weight, Yes, I'll give in and you can get a boob job."

"O.K., for the record- If I lose my weight, then I can get a boob job, and a little work done on my face..."

"What? What do you mean "work on your face?"

"Well, ya know, just a little bit of botox in my 11's and maybe a little juvederm?"

*insert convo where I explained juvederm*

"Shelley, trust me- If you lose your weight, your face will go back to normal."

Wow. That was completely sobering.

When I first began this blog, I was overweight- but not huge or anything. I loved writing and sharing stories- hopefully to bring a smile to someone's face, vent, or just pass my time because it felt like I had formed a newfound hobby. And through this process, I learned more about myself than I ever knew. I've learned my likes, my dislikes, what makes me happy, sad, and everything in between. And I've also learned that while I am happy and satisfied in my life and pretty much live on easy street, I self medicate.

Ya see, at the end of the day when all is quiet, nothing makes me feel as good as settling in with a loaf of bread and Diet Coke. Or when I have to go from swim team to gymnastics to a playdate within three hours something about a McDonald's run seems soothing to me. With my kids growing up right before my very eyes this past year and no longer being solely dependent on me, food has become my b-f-f. When they are off playing pretend at the park with their friends and no longer needing Mommy every second, I miss it. And when I'm sad that I'm not the only one bringing a smile to their faces, a double cheeseburger calls out my name and "needs" me. And when they are perfectly content with the neighborhood kids and don't need Mommy to lead activities, I can turn to Doritos while sitting on my front stoop. And somewhere along the line, I packed on the pounds.

While I'd like to say it happened overnight, I know it didn't. But it sure feels like it. I honestly never saw how "big" I had gotten until this past week- starting with when I caught a glimpse of my back fat in the medicine cabinet mirror and wondered who in the sam hells body was in my bathroom- I mean it couldn't be mine! But after ten minutes of playing with different body positions and being grossed out by my gut, stretch marks, and everything in between, I saw that it was indeed my own reflection.

Or tonight, when I went to a family birthday party and my cousin took a group picture of us... and then showed it to me on the camera resulting in me nearly threatening her life if she posted it on facebook- As in a real death threat if she even thought about tagging that pic... I saw a girl in the picture- while very happy with a smile on her face... A girl that looked fat and happy. Fat... as in the F word fat.

And somewhere along the line of making excuse after excuse as to why I didn't work out, or stick to my Weight Watchers points, inside this happy gal, lives a woman that really struggles with her weight. Struggles to the point where she is lost and doesn't know where to go from here. Struggles because she knows she needs to do something and yet feels like she has no control or motivation. Struggles because she feels like she's lost not what's on the inside, but what is on the outside. And a woman who would give anything and everything to just once again look more normal.

Stagnant. That's pretty much the state of this blog. And while many might view this blog as a complete failure- Hello- Weight loss blogger who manages to blog about gaining her confidence and getting her body back while losing twenty pounds... only to continue documenting her suburban life for the next year... while gaining thirty big, fat l.b.'s back... But I don't. In fact, I like to look on the bright side of life- and I've realized that this very blog has saved me thousands in therapy.

Things happen.  Life happens.  And it's not always easy to be healthy or to not let stress eating get the best of you.  And so, I am guilty.

Wanda Holloway. Yes, I had to google that- it wasn't fresh in my mind with the other useless information my brain likes to waste space with... She even has a wikepedia entry:

We tried this month... and I'm now out 20 bucks and lots of gas- as in car gas, or gasoline. After a night of drinkin' in the driveway with neighbors, we celebrated our anniversary and "put it in God's hands". I just knew I was pregnant and even calculated my due date to be February 24th, 2012. But guess what... after obsessively poking and prodding my boobs and practically feeling myself up in the hopes that I'd experience signs of soreness- and after multiple trips to the dollar store and a trip to Wally World just to get the good test because I had POASS- Ya know- Pee On A Stick Syndrome, the verdict is in- I've got nothing. No fertilized egg, pregnancy glow, or baby growing in me.

Miranda Lambert. I love her. The list of reasons could be a blog in itself... Let's see- I loved her first single ever "Me and Charlie Talking," I remember her going buck-wild on an awards show to the song Kerosene and thinking "that girl just doesn't care!", she goes up and down on the scale and talks about her weight issues with a since of pride and "who gives a rat's ass", she hunts, she's gorgeous... and she's married to Blake Shelton for Pete's sake!!!

I especially love her song "The House That Built Me." My folks have lived in the same house for almost thirty years and I know that their time is nearing an end. When they first built it- people thought we were nuts. We couldn't even have our mailed delivered to us because it was so far out in the sticks and my bus had to stop for cow crossings. We even had a cow! And now the trees across the street have been cleared and they are woken up every day by the sound of construction to new homes on lots the size of a postage stamp. The day they sell and drive away from that house- I might just have a mental breakdown... but for now, I'll cherish it and let my kids run in the fields like I did as a child...

I'm that girl... that girl that you want at your party because I'm a sucker. Not only will I buy product, but I'll also be that easy target and if the consultant mentions a start-up deal to me, I'll be your next home show saleswoman and start a new business venture. Don't you worry- I bet I help earn you an extra half price item. I know, because I've done it like ten times.

Let's see... I've sold Mary Kay (multiple times), Willow House, Thirty-One, Premier Designs Jewelry, Arbonne... the list keeps going. And from them- I've pretty much earned a lot of starter kits, wasted a shit ton of marketing materials, and earned nothing. I've probably even lost money because I tend to give away my discount and not factor in shipping charges, taxes, etc... and end up owing money. It's great.

I went swimsuit shopping today. I know you are probably thinking, "Oh goodness,here comes another down and out post." But actually that couldn't be farther from the truth. Then again- anything is an improvement over the swimsuits I sported this weekend. My hubby even hinted that it was time to go shopping because I might as well have been perched on the dock naked since just about everyone could see my nips and camel toe. Oh well, shit happens.

I headed to the mall expecting to cry in the dressing room. Instead, angels sang and I found not one, but two swimsuits that I feel comfortable in. Never in my right mind did I foresee me shopping in Sears of all places and granted, I'm not sporting a 'kini like I dream of. I'm in suits that are great for a mom- Ya know- a little skirt in case I didn't get a chance to shave down under... I mean so that I can chase the chitlin's around and all... But, I found what I think are cute suits that don't scream, "I'm a mom and completely let myself go."

Shake 'em, Shake 'em, Yell out "Baby needs some shoes," and shoot.

And if you are like me, your baby probably has more shoes that she/he knows what to do with. I know mine sure do. My daughter has a pair of sparkly Tom's like I've been pining over every time I stroll through Nordstrom... She even has cute cowgirl boots, flip flops galore, Sauconys, every color of Mary Janes available, Saltwaters, Lelli Kellys... I could go on forever. And me, well, I have two buck specials from Old Navy. Don't worry, I don't leave my son out. He has a swimsuit for every day of the week, and as we were riding in the car last week, he informed me he needed trunks with his initials on them. Be still my heart, he's picked up on my love of monograms, so I'm sure he'll have a pair before week's end... as I wear my Costco blue light special, ill-fitting tankini... Or better yet, my worn out, three year old suit that caused my son to inform me that he can see my "boobie balls" a.k.a. nipples because the pads fell out one too many times in the wash, so I chucked them. Nice.

In my household, that's just the way it is. Our kids don't go without... and not that we go without by any means... but let's just say our needs (or more like wants) are always put on the back burner.

Just when we thought it was a easy month due to no preschool payments- fall football registration is due, soccer registration is going on, swim lessons need to be paid, and the list goes on... So when I decided to try TNT training, I knew it wasn't a good idea. And I was right- because I LOVE it!

TNT training is one of those group exercise programs they offer at my gym- Sport & Health. I've walked by the sign for months wanting to check it out... but knowing that if I liked it we would have to figure out something financially. But for months I've gone to the gym only to socialize and do an easy workout on a cardio machine with no results. I walk by the guy in the fluorescent yellow shirt (yeah, we see ya, buddy) wanting to take that step and join his class.

And when an e-mail arrived in my inbox offering a free week, I finally took that step.

Loved it.

And their marketing plan worked... because I'm a sucker and am now two steps away from promising my hubby sexual favors to join this program- especially after this super cute, totally in shape lady in the class dropped a hint that TNT really works because one year ago, she, too was 160. O.k.., I'm not really 160 yet, but I'll pretend.:)

It may be in my head, but after one week of training, I was down three pounds, felt tighter, and had even paid attention to what I was eating this week- because when you have your butt kicked for an hour, and have to do a check-in with the instructor every session, you really don't want to mess up.

O.K. y'all... I have high hopes that with a few episodes of Extreme Couponing, making changes such as driving the beater, I mean Civic instead of our gas guzzling minivan at times, and cutting back on eating out, this can be done without me having to sell a liver on the black market. So blow on that dice, and hopefully I'll be reporting back over these next few months with results for once.

Ready, set, shake, rattle, blow, and roll... because Mama needs some shoes, too.:)

I love my brothers... If you read this blog it is probably quite easy to tell that we're a close knit bunch. So, when my brother graduated from U.V.A. yesterday with his M.B.A., I, being the die hard Hokie that I am, let it slide and traveled to Charlottesville for the ceremony.

What quite frankly was my idea of hell- driving two hours with my kids to sit and listen to speeches, keeping them occupied for two hours in the heat, only to do the whole picture thing before turning around and driving two hours all over again... turned out to be a lovely day.

With the help of playdough, my children were entertained and the first guest speaker- one of my brother's classmates- an easy on the eyes middle-aged Navy Seal- caught my attention. Easy, easy... not because of his good looks, but because of his insight. He spoke of how when he received his first degree, it was just that- a degree. He spoke of how it often takes time for one to appreciate what you have accomplished and to reap the rewards.

Coming from a family where my parents, grandparents, etc. didn't attend college, we were always brought up that not going to college wasn't an option. My mom engrained in us that we were going to college and we were going to graduate... and she told us every day, "Your education is the one thing no one can take away from you." And to this day, she says that when all three of her children graduated college, that was one of her biggest accomplishments in life.