Well it's day 3 into the battle towards The Jeans. I realize that I didn't write yesterday, and I apologize to my faithful followers (not so much to my creepers as they can't even be bothered to let themselves be known, but I still know your out there). No I didn't fall into a starvation coma, or perhaps lapse into a sugar coma due to falling off the wagon; I simply was just being a mum and therefore was doing mum things and lost track of time, I gotta sleep sometime! I think I should probably set some blogging rules for myself, so here they are:1) Always blog on a Monday as that is weigh in day, 2) No less than 3 blogs a week (no guarantee on what days. except Monday, as that was rule number 1), and 3) Never ignore a smile and the need for a cuddle to blog, as I'm sure my public will understand.

Now that we have that straight, on to more pressing matters...FOOD! So I seem to have a minor problem in that I'm addicted to food. Drug users can go cold turkey to abstain from using their drug of choice, but how is it that I'm supposed to go cold turkey from eating.....MMmmmmm turkey, I can't even write a sentence without that cold clammy feeling taking over my body, little beads of sweat gather on my brow as my eyes dart from the pantry room cupboards to the deep freeze, do you hear that....I think there's a toaster oven ticking near by. HELP ME!!!!!! Instead of methadone, I'm given celery and carrot sticks with low fat dip, all the while watching my husband eat rainbow chips ahoy cookies dunked in strawberry quick. I should mention that strawberry quick is not something that usually temps me, but after (only) 3 days of dieting I'm ready to reach over the kitchen table, b%@&* slap my so-called support person, then take his milk and chug it back like I was at a kegger! Just like drugs, look what food and lack-there-of has reduced me to, soon I'll be licking the table after we eat just hoping to find some gravy, or even worse, showing up at a playground near you looking for a freebie or two, the words "just one more snack pack, that's all I need, and then I'll be done," falling from my mouth. So how is that I deal with this dilemma of being an addict but still having to see, smell, and taste my "drug" of choice......ask me in 7 months, and only if I fit into The Jeans.

After throwing my bag of Fruit Loops into the garbage on Monday, I then later went back and opened the bag up and poured just the Fruit Loops into the garbage. Ohhhhh faithful readers, your probably thinking what a good girl I was by remembering to recycle the plastic bag, however, I actually needed those sweet loops of goodness to mingle with the mornings coffee grounds and yesterdays leftovers so that they were no longer able to tempt me with their fruity goodness. And yes, I may have ate a few before contaminating them, what a waste......It then became obvious to me that I was in need of some healthy groceries to aid in my healthy living quest. WELLLLLLLLLLLL............how is it that I'm expected to eat healthy and still make my mortgage payments???

Apparently, I am expected to give up my first born child in order to be able to pay for all this healthy food. You would think that with the increase in portions in Canada's food guide there would be an outcry from the masses as to the prices that one must pay for a bunch of radishes and head of lettuce. Yet, all I hear about in the news is "oh no, HST tax on take-out food!!" What about the tomatoes, who is going to fight for the tomatoes??!! Not the masses, they're obviously eating take-out food, it would just be me, and only because if I sat at the kitchen table opening up my styrofoam container, there they would be, The Jeans, their size 12 stitching looming at me from across the table, probably wishing they were a medium sized shirt with arms so that they could b&*$@ slap me. I think perhaps my withdrawal from sugar is not only making me a little bitter but also gives me the tendency to jump from subject to subject, are you still with me?

Needless to say, I bought the damn radishes and the head of lettuce, all the while digging my fingernails into the palm of my hand as the final total was brought to my attention. I said thank you, and asked the cashier how she felt about tomatoes.........

-There is no love sincerer than the love of food

George Bernard Shaw

This morning was it, the day of all days, the day of the diet....duhn duhn duhnnnnnn!! I went to bed thinking positive nutritious thoughts, and visions of apples and quinoa danced in my head. My morning started much the same way as every other day, up early, once again due to a son who feels the need to grow and therefore eat. It was rainy and gray, and very very windy; a great day to curl up with a cup of cocoa and have something filling and warm for breakfast, mmmmm like pancakes. However, I remembered I had officially started my diet and I then realised that I probably won't have time to make pancakes for like 2 years, I instead turned to my faithful cereal cupboard.


My cereal cupboard and I have become somewhat acquainted over the last few months. Never having been much of a breakfast person I rarely ate the stuff, but then something happened. I seemed to be spending endless hours awake, at strange times of the morning and night, and I was always starving; enter cereal. I love this stuff, so many kinds in so many different shapes and colours; if I was feeling a little sad my three friends Snap, Crackle and Pop would liven me up, if I was angry I'd pour a little Capt'n'Crunch in my bowl because how could you not laugh at a grown man in a captains hat. Alphabets always made me feel smart and Special K always made feel healthy. However, as I opened up my personal cupboard of feelings (wow, the relation between food and feelings is clearly apparent right at this moment) and I grabbed out my Fruit Loops, I began to realize just how gray and dreary my day was really going to be. No more Fruit Loops!! How could I, not only live without the ability to eat quickly, but live with out the sugar fix that on most days has kept me functional.

After staring longingly at Tucan Sams candy coloured box for what seemed like an eternity, I managed to come to terms with the fact that the numbers behind the word CALORIES was not a misprint. As I stood there looking at the obscenely large caloric number and at the ridiculously small portion amount I realised, that 10 minutes after officially starting my diet, I was already justifying to myself why I deserved to devour Tucan Sam's loopy goodness. After all, there is fruit in there, it says so on the box, so how bad could it really be. Yet, as it had only been officially 10 minutes since I started my diet I still managed to find a small amount of self-control, and was able to put the box down and step away from the cupboard. I can only imagine what might have happened had there been golden grahams in there instead of Fruit Loops, a diet catastrophe, that's what! So, as I sat down to my soft boiled egg, fibre enriched whole wheat bread and coffee with skim milk and stared out at the gloomy morning, all I could think about was climbing back into my still warm bed with my box of Fruit Loops and full fat milk in hand. I had then officially been dieting for 23 minutes. How was your morning?


23 minutes, they seemed like an eternity, and only 250000 minutes left, give or take a few, no problem. Well faithful followers, and of course my dear blog creepers (I know you guys are out there) this is where my sarcasm is beginning to show through, because by no problem I really mean, HELP ME ALL I WANT TO DO IS EAT!!!!!! Through out the day I of course came across many similar incidents, and it was when I was looking through the pantry for a healthy snack all the while holding onto a bag of cookies, merely for comfort, that I then realised that The Pants needed to play a much more significant role. I could not simply leave The Pants on top of my dresser, and assume that in 7 months I could pull them out and we would essentially become one, we were in fact going to have to get to know one another again and go through this laborious process of dieting together. In essence The Pants needed to become my conscience, my guide, as one Mr. Jimminy cricket would say, a constant reminder of our overall goal. So, The Pants have now joined me in the kitchen, the room of no morals as I like to call it, and here they will stay.


Well here are the basic facts, I need to lose 40 pounds, maybe a little less to fit The Jeans which are a size 12. Perhaps I'll eventually reveal my starting weight and thus where I plan for it to be in July, but for now it's between me and my scale.....

-The secret of success is sincerity. Once you can fake that you've got it made.

Jean Giraudoux

Well it is officially the eve of my diet and I can already taste the nothingness. In anticipation of the joyess day, I have done, what I hope every woman who is about to go on a diet does, eat anything and everything that is not included in Canada's extensive food guide. Well maybe some of the items are, does the food guide have a white category, or perhaps a chemically altered sugar category, ahhhh who are we kidding chemically altered sugar would belong in the white category, duh!

So yesterday, a friend who read my blog, asked me what was so special about The Jeans, and told me that I should elaborate on them. Well they are in reality just jeans, denim coloured material, that yes has a little bit of stretch for extra comfort, but still nonetheless pants that we all put on one leg at a time. Well, that are usually put on one leg at a time except in extreme circumstances that may result in a minor breakdown (see Friday's entry). However, supposed friend who is not a follower of my blog but instead just a blog creeper, to me, they are the goal. Once I am able to put The Jeans on without the use of heavy duty machinery or by rubbing diaper cream all over my lower extremities, I plan to take down all the photos that WILL have accumulated of my son over the months, and put up photos of, you guessed it, moi. So there it is folks, the climax! If I promise to somehow make it exciting, seeing me in a pair of jeans, will that keep people continuing to read my blog, even if they're not official followers. I am open to suggestions of what would make the photo interesting, but please keep in mind that I have managed to have a limited police record and now that I'm a mother I would like it to stay that way. On a quick side note I will re-post photos of my son shortly after my July 1st deadline, because that's what mum's do and also, because it's my blog.

So, my faithful follower, and yes to you blog creeper(s?), we will pick this up tomorrow as it`s Sunday and I`m off to do what every wife and mother does on a Sunday, show our faithful devotion to the washing machine, stove and toilet. Maybe I`ll make tomorrow my Sunday for paying homage to the household deities, I can see a little man who only has smiles for me and I plan to get some cuddle time in.

-Its not that some people have willpower and some don`t. It`s that some people are ready to change and others are not.

James Gordon

And so begins my first post. Why, you may be asking, are you wasting your precious few moments reading something that isn't going to tell you how to get your baby on a much needed sleep schedule, or how to get your dog to stop peeing on your in laws decorative table covers when you go over for one of your long overdue visits, or even how to get your partner to own up to the fact that they have been using your callous scraper while they're locked in the bathroom for what seems like hours. Yet, we all go through experiences that can be in some way connected and its nice to hear once and a while that your not crazy. I can tell you that your not alone and what may seem like horrendous, traumatic and trying times are...exactly that, and we all go through them.

And so I shall begin my tale of yesterday morning. I decided after a night of getting up constantly to feed my son, who has the audacity to be going through a growth spurt, that in my sleep deprived state I would try to fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans. Do you have any idea where I may be going with this story?? Well, I took these jeans out of my drawer where they lay at the bottom of the pile underneath my pre-pregnancy fat pants, you know the ones usually worn around a girl's favorite time of the month. These pants were under my pre-pregnancy comfy pants, ones usually worn on rainy movie nights made of worn flannel that have some room for the popcorn and diet pop to expand. These pants were in turn under the jogging pants. Now, jogging pants, for me anyway, are the last resort pants, the ones that you never go out of the house in and are only ever worn in extreme circumstances. And then of course there were a few pairs of the inevitable maternity pants. So, if you have been paying attention, my pre-pregnancy jeans were at the bottom of a pile that illustrates my bodies changes throughout my pregnancy. However, the fact that 3 months later I'm still wearing my maternity pants should then illustrate that my body has yet to figure out that we're no longer pregnant!



So I then turned off the lights, as there was no need to face the problem head on, shut the blinds, turned away from the mirror, and, unlike the rest of the world, I decided to not take any chances and put my pants on both legs at once. I'm not to sure why I did it this way, perhaps I felt that a little momentum may help in this situation, or maybe it was the simple fact that I knew once I saw how bad the situation was with one leg that I wouldn't dare try the second one, let alone try to pull them up. Well lets just say that no amount of momentum short of a speeding freight train was going to get those jeans p and over my baby luvin thighs. So there I was, in the dark, sitting in a heap amongst my used-to-be fat pants that are now just pants, the ones that still fit anyway, used-to-be skinny pants around my thighs, crying. Now were not talking just a few tears but rather full out uncontrollable heaving with legs and arms flailing, basically, I was having a 28 year old temper tantrum. I suppose I could blame it on the lack of sleep or hormones but I would like to reserve the right to use those excuses at a later date preferably for something I have said to my husband and feel the need to take back for whatever reason.

By the time I had pulled myself together and managed to peel myself, or rather my thighs out of my once favorite pair of jeans, I had come up with a plan. This plan is how I have ended up here, writing this blog. I want to lose weight but to do so I need to feel like I have to answer to someone, namely who ever may mistakenly stumble across my blog. I plan to fit back into my jeans by July 1, 2010 and keep you all posted along the way. I have to say that as I got dressed, there was a little extra bounce in my step, I put a little extra effort into making myself up. I was feeling great about my new plan, then I turned on the light, looked in the mirror and realised that even though the baby was late in getting up, my milk was right on time.

So there it is, Monday January 18Th I will begin to lose some of this excess baggage....