Great Easter Weekend...and some philosophy about being fat.

I step on the scale Saturday morning and find...200.4!!! Hooray, I'm so close. I worked out during the weekend, I ate well (with the exception of a taco my husband forced in my mouth last night), and I feel really good. My clothes are fitting better, I'm getting a good amount of sleep and I'm clearly stronger. Everything is awesome...until I get pics this morning from last week's baby shower. Who is that person with the belly and the enormous thighs wearing my clothes? Why can't I reconcile the picture of HER with the picture of ME in the mirror? And...I come crashing back to earth.

So it turns out, it's easy to get caught up in the weight loss positives (which are very important and should not be minimized in one's psyche) and lose a little of the reality that while I have lost 25 pounds, I am still fat. Just because I feel like a supermodel b/c my clothes are fitting loosely, that doesn't mean I am not still a long way from my goal. And seeing pictures proves it. So does shopping for jeans.

I read this weekend that often, people will point out their deficiencies before other people have time to notice them. It's sort of like acknowledging them to someone else to make them aware of YOUR awareness about it so it's not the proverbial elephant in the room. I thought pretty hard about whether or not I do that, because I'm pretty upfront about my size. However, I've come to the conclusion that's not what I'm doing. I acknowledge my size because, unlike being smart/dumb, witty/boring, talented/not, one's weight is entirely visual to the outside world. I acknowledge it because doing so doesn't change my reality. Not talking about the fact I am fat does not make me thin. So when I say to people, "I just cannot believe I hauled my fat butt up the mountain/stairs/curb", I'm not using self-deprecating humor as a defense mechanism. I truly am just surprised that I was able to do it. Hiking to Machu Picchu is a great example of this. I wasn't trying to be humorous b/c there wasn't much funny about that trip, I really am just in awe that I'm alive.

However, I also gave some thought to how other people might perceive/react to my realist version of the world. I suppose a lot of people really don't know what to say when I refer to my weight because social norms don't really encourage people to:
1) heartily agree with me "Yes, you are fat, good for you for noticing!"
2) run away without saying anything or
3) disagree on something that is so obvious as to make the listener seem blind or retarded. So usually people just sort of mutter, "oh Suzanne.." and then laugh nervously.

I haven't decided what to do with this yet. In the meantime, please let me say the following: I am fat. Yes I am. But I am working on it and I do not believe it is what defines me. I am also: smart, witty, loyal and a good wife, friend and mother. So if you readers feel uncomfortable with my proclamation and do not want to agree heartily (which you can absolutely do with no fear of retaliation), feel free to compliment me on any one of my awesome features listed above. Problem solved.

A birthday shout-out to my friend "Stampy".  Hoping to have good news for everyone that does NOT begin with a "2" at the next weigh-in sometime this week. In the meantime, enjoy this picture of Carter from yesterday: