I’ve hit a plateau.
So obvi…I feel fat. TOM is visiting, so I’m bloated on top of all this weight-loss business and feel the intense need to cry. Shameful, right?
Ladies, I know you know what I mean. Gentlemen…it’s really is like shark week, but sometimes not even chocolate and kind words are going to save your butts. FYI.
Anyhow…I’m feeling FAT. No, not PHAT.
FAT. Hefty. LARGE. Giant. As tall as I am round.
So what does my beau suggest?
“Babe, you’re beautiful. Go buy yourself some lingerie, I promise you’ll feel gorgeous.”
Wonderful, right? End of this cheesy story?
We go to the mall, get measured (me, not him!) and it turns out that I’m actually a FULL CUP SIZE bigger than I thought I was. MAJOR FAT.
How is this possible when I’m losing weight?
Is the remaining fat re-depositing itself in my boobs?
This skinny cow with no tact, shopping with her man, whispers to him…”yeah, as if that’ll look good.”
Hand to GOD…I almost rounded on her and said:
But, I remained calm and continued looking through the oh-so-adorable-but-I-probably-cannot-fit-one-cheek-into-these lacies.
Did I mention I’m in between sizes?
Everything’s too big or too small.
GAH! I loathe plateaus!
So what am I doing about it?
We’re changing it up, peeps!
I’ve got 6lbs of frozen fruit that needs to be munched!
This coming week (starting Sunday)…I’m having a protein shake for dinner,
until I get tired of them every night. I’ll change up the ingredients, but always keep the protein to meet my daily nutritional values. You see, I’m incredibly busy and tend to work out in the late afternoon or evenings, so a shake will work much better for me than a typical dinner. I’ll definitely let you know how it goes.
Lunch will be mainly salads, but I heart me some bunny food – so that won’t be a problem to stick to.
The real question is…
I’m going to incorporate some awesome home-made breakfast bars, so that I can snack halfway through my morning. Can anyone say woot? Mmmm, yum! [pictures to follow]
My man has been kind of a slave-driver lately. He’s all “gotta work out,
ROAR!” :gnashes pearly whites:
It’s kind of annoying, actually.
He’s super strong, so he’s pumping some serious iron and looking sexy-buff, while I’m working with puny-baby-weights and can barely make fluffy look good, let alone with my sweaty booty in neon spandex. Good grief. I just realized how comical I must look in the gym. SMH.
|Add this song to your workout jams…it’s EPIC!|
Oh, so what happened with the new bras?
I bought a few and they feel like they’re ALL over me! But I guess that’s what a good one’s supposed to be like, huh? It’s like a boobie protector, all up in my business and holding things in place.
The beau was right, too. Once I got home and showered, then a bit dolled up for a night out…well, I slung one of those puppies on (the black lacey kind that makes me blush, even though no one else knows I’m wearing it) and all my man could say all night was:
Babe, can you get me…”As you wish.”
Sweetie, I need…”As you wish.”
Is it alright if…”As you wish.”
More coffee for me….”As you wish.”
This over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder is brilliant! If you don’t have pretty, lacey, lovely undies…GO GET SOME!
It’s not the fabric that makes me feel pretty, it’s the look I get from my man.
He loves me bundles.
Enough to drag me to the gym, when all I want to do is nap.
More than enough to work around my hectic schedule to make sure I eat healthy.
Beyond the normal love levels that one would expect.
He’s the real deal and I’m one lucky gal.
So I won’t push past this plateau for him. He already loves me.
I’m doing this for me, so that maybe someday soon – I’ll love myself as much as he loves me.
Now that would be spectacular, but for now, I’ll make fluffy look sexy.