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My husband tells me I am a makebate. So, what's wrong with that? I love to write. I have 2 great kids and 1 grandson. I'd love to say I am "retired" but really, who retires from life? Shoot me a question, comment, rant or rave. They are all welcome here. Love dogs, my family, and most of all, debate. Pro NRA, conservative and a right wing lady.

Friday, December 26, 2014

Big butts, jello and jiggles

With 2015 almost upon us, I decided to jump start my body overhaul early.  What better time to tackle the curse of menopause, sagging breasts, big butt syndrome and all that nonsense then Christmas.  Tis the season of all things chocolate, sugar, savory and cheese.  All big RED flags on my plate.

The holiday started off ok.  By 1300 I was famished and convinced that I had not eaten in days, when it had only be a mere 4 hours.  By the end of the day, I was convinced beyond the shadow of a giant sugar cookie that I would die in my sleep of starvation. 

One great standard is that the United States counts weight in pounds rather than stones.  After a great Christmas eve conversation with my cousin Louise (in Australia), I realized that it sounds far more esoteric to measure out weight in stones than pounds.  But, after doing the conversion, those stones became giant boulders, and the fairytale became more of a horror flick! 

I made it through the first day!  Now begins day two.  That carb shake and banana do not taste as good as a slab of bacon alongside.  Of course, I've heard people say, "Bacon goes with everything"!  Luckily, the pre-diet grocery store festival did not include bacon.  I loaded up on fruits, lean cuisine meals, carb shakes, green veggies...all the yummies that say, "healthy eater". 

Ironically, this week's edition of People magazine arrived in my mailbox featuring ordinary Joes and Josephines who had lost half their body weight by eating sensibly, exercising and staying determined.  I read their take on meals, snacks, etc that gave me the extra boost I will need. My little min-pin Lady Byrd will provide the walking I need until I can get my failing back remedied and move on to the bike. 

What is it about age and expanding waistlines?  Where do spare tires come from?  How did the lunch lady find me and sling a ladle full of arm flab upon my bones?  The gray hair was fine.  I accepted that with gusto.  I believed it added character and a sense of refinement.  The crows' feet that landed on my face - again, I wasn't too concerned.  "Maybe it can be the lines of wisdom" - that's the big FAT façade I told myself.  But, to suffer the indignity of my ass being bigger than my head; well, that's just too much.

Of course, I really have no one to blame but (there's **that** word again) myself.  Trips to Macaroni Grill, or a Snicker's Bar are on me.  I accept that.  Giving up alcohol was easy compared to leaving espresso cake at the store!  And who am I kidding when ordering a green tea frap from Starbucks? 

So, Christmas...you've come and gone taking all your naughtiness with you.  I've got a jump on the all too common New Year's resolution to lose the extra baby weight from my youngest baby of 29 years.  2015 will be my year.  I can do it. 

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