About that...

Dear Sweet Blog, you probably gave up on me and thought I forgot you entirely. But I swear I did not. I think of you often, usually with feelings of guilt. You may think I am nothing but a bunch of unfulfilled promises. But REALLY, I swear I am not.

After my dieting extravaganza I lost 3 lbs the first week and 2 lbs each of the following two weeks. I was down to 163. As the excitement dwindled and the taste ofbroken fiber pills killed any good flavor in the required foods, I bobbled back and forth between 164 and 162. No matter. Despite still being unpleasantly plump, I felt successful. Apparently I could lose weight. I continued trying to eat healthily but after gummy curry I could take it no more. I stopped slicing open fiber capsules and refused to pour anymore of their sawdust fillings into my food. Enough was enough. They came in capsules for a damn reason. I opted to just swallow them with water as I am sure their creator intended. You cannot imagine how repulsive the consistency of all my food became simply by adding fiber. I get the idea. Fiber=thickening agent AND natural laxative=dieting wonders. Whatever. Adding the ridiculous amounts of capsules into food could give even water the delightful texture of snot. Or slime. Or something meant to be smeared or wiped, but definitely not eaten. In my mind the diet I was on should be good enough to help me loose weight without all the added fiber. I’m not sure if I wasn’t following details as vigourously or if the diet should just be renamed “Metamucil Weightloss”, but I plateaued.

Before I had time to gain the weight back, I rocked my shortness and chunky curves as Jersey Shore’s own “Snooki”. I’m thinking black hair is slimming, orange skin flatters me or I should just be a guidette. Somehow, something worked that night because at least three people told me I looked ‘skinny’ or ‘slim’. In a crazy way, my husband (errrr…. “Vinny”)really liked the new look, or at least the novelty of it. And well after a certain chain of event that led to me shooting back up to 170. I’m pregnant.

Yep, Sophia is almost 11 months and I am just over 12 weeks pregnant. She will be 18 months when Bitty Smitty II arrives. So you see, this is why I haven’t written. I wasn’t ready to announce my pregnancy but I couldn’t write about the victory of weightloss either. As I finish up the first trimenster, I’m happy to announce so far, so good!



Now, what? Not about life. I haven’t had time to forget how pregnancy and such goes. I mean about you, dear blog. My size 6 jeans are not even in the inspiration corner of my closet anymore. They are reboxed and back in the basement to allow room for maternity clothes. “Getting hot” in my original sense is out of the question for another year or so. Not that I don’t think I am a cute pregnant chick- cuz let me tell you, I am. Seriously. I have 10 times my normal confidence when I am rocking some extra think, healthier-than-usual hair, glowing skin and a cutely clad bump. Even now at 12 weeks (my baby is only the size of a peach), I’ve lost my muffin-top insecurities. Now it’s a little bump, slowly reforming and ready to rock and roll. Soooooo anyway, I think I will take a break from you. Maybe I will revisit you throughout my pregnancy to post some maternity pics or something, but mostly I will leave this as part one to an unfinished, to-be-continued kind of story. I will, however, begin a new blog. Something that has no real theme or journey. Just a place for me to be me. School, life, love, babies, pregnancy, work, friends, happiness, sadness—it can all be there without walls or guidelines. I didn’t make any resolutions this year but I’d like to now. This week I will start a new blog and I will write in it every week. I will come back to this blog to add a link in case you care to follow my humble, happy life. Cheers!