A Weighty Issue
I have finally reached my goal weight of one-hundred and twenty-five pounds.


I know, it's not kosher for a woman to be proclaiming her weight all over the internet but I don't care. It's me, it's who I am, and I'm not embarrassed. What I am embarrassed about is that fact that I am totally out of shape. But, and I'm ashamed to admit this, I am apparently not embarrassed enough to do anything about it. I'm getting there though.

So, yes, I'm back to my pre-marriage, pre-babies weight. It's been a true struggle - emotionally, physically, and mentally - for me. Please tell me I'm not alone in this.
I still believe it's not terribly important to see a certain number on the scale. But it sure does feel good. I can't lie to you. I wish that I could be where I am right now weight-wise because of my determined commitment to an exercise regiment.

But, it's not.

The weight loss came at a greater price than sweat... the nursing has ended. Not by conscious choice. I can't actually talk about it because if I do I will start crying. And I'm too tired to cry right now.

Instead I will focus on being happy that the pile of jeans has been dwindled down to one lonely non-fitting pair.

High five, anyone??

I talk about my struggle a bit more here and here, if you are interested!

P.S. I haven't tried my "back to normal weight" pair of pants on yet. They are taunting me from the closet. I'm a wimp. I'm afraid they won't fit, so they'll just stay on the stinkin' hanger 'til I'm good and ready.

Obviously I've lost my big girl panties.

*Post from 1 year ago today: See ya! And... we're back!
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