WTFat?

Every once in awhile, my body speaks to me.

Sometimes, it says “Hey, good job being less fat! Let me allow you to button those jeans!”

Other times, like last week, it says, “Hey dumbass! While I appreciate your efforts at being more ninja and less flabby, if you don’t relax, hydrate and feed me, I am going to donkey punch you right in the baby maker and force you to lie down!”

I had a rather scary and unpleasant experience with low blood pressure for a few days. Basically, anytime I sat up, stood up, opened OR closed my eyes, or even attempted to move my head, the whole world got blurry and spun like I was on some demented merry-go-round while knocking back Tequila shooters. And while I do enjoy a good Tequila buzz and the occasional amusement park ride, this was not a good time for me. It forced me to come out of downward facing dog, turn off the treadmill, eat a nice salty meal and drink water until my kidneys were dancing the cha cha alongside my bloated bladder.

As my one year “birthday” approaches, my mind is clouded with thoughts and feelings regarding who I am as I lose weight and take back control of my life. There are days I almost forget I’m not that person anymore, so when I put on a pair of skinny jeans or put my hands on a waist where you can no longer pinch extra skin, it seems very surreal to me and takes me a second to adjust.

Let me break this down for you like this. In 9 months I have:

Lost 140 pounds.

Lost 15” from my bust.

Lost 17” from my waist.

Lost 16” from hips.

Gone down an entire shoe size.

Seems crazy, right?

Look here:


















I basically sweated and pooped out an entire human being. Nine months ago I may as well have been carrying my 10 year old son around on my back all day long. Yet when I try to swing a 20-lb kettle ball over my head I still feel like I might die. At least now I can do yoga without crying and I can run without my ass bouncing around like two pigs fighting under a blanket.

Now, you may want to take a moment to call the WHAAAAA-mbulance because I am about to whine and be a total ASSHOLE when I tell you how HARD this has been for me. When I started out, all I wanted was to lose 100 pounds. I have a photo of me on Facebook and the caption under the photo reads “50 Pounds Gone! Halfway there!” and I remember being SO proud of myself. 140 pounds later I wonder how I ever thought 100 pounds would have been enough. Then I wonder, what will be enough? When I lose another 25 pounds I will weight what I did when I graduated high school. Will that be enough? I feel almost unstoppable some days. Like, if I did this in 9 months, just imagine what I could do with another 9! Typically, you lose all the weight you will have lost within the first 18 months so if that is true I could achieve goals I never would have imagined for myself. But at what cost? My health? My sanity?

Because, if I am being really honest with myself, food and exercise are becoming an all consuming obsession. And in a completely different way than they were 9 months ago. If I am not researching the nutritional info in food or planning my meals, I am researching info on yoga, doing yoga, running or thinking about how much running I will have to do to burn off the food I spent all day researching, making and eating. Should I feel guilty for the chocolate I treated myself to or for the skinny caramel macchiato I just had to have after a long week?

Where do I find that happy balance?

When do I stop and allow myself to really be proud of what I have done?

When can I take a compliment without feeling embarrassed?

When is enough, enough?

And most importantly, will I figure it out before I exhaust myself and cause harm?

Eat me.

The day I have dreaded most is finally here. The day I remember what it feels like to be hungry and to want to eat for no reason at all. At almost 9 months and 130 pounds post surgery I find myself sitting at my desk wanting to graze and snack all day long even when I am not hungry. Like an alcoholic with coin in his pocket, standing in front of his favorite bar, I sit here in misery craving a Twix bar or a bag of chips to satisfy a non-existent hunger. I know what you are thinking: So, have a Twix bar or a small bag of chips, right? Well, I have and the craving….it’s still there.

At night, when dinner is cleaned up and put away and the kids have gone to bed and I finally get to sit down and relax, my first instinct is to look for something crunchy and salty, or melty and chocolately to stick into my piehole. It’s like all the ugly and compulsive desires to overeat and devour unhealthy food is sneaking up on me like a bad yeast infection on your wedding day.

I CANNOT go back to being that person. I would rather die than every try to squeeze into a booth at a restaurant or buy slip on shoes rather than ones that tie to avoid bending over ever again. I like being able to see my feet without having to lean forward. I like crossing my legs and buying pants that don’t have to be folded in half to fit on a clothes hanger. I like having only one chin and I like wearing clothes whose size don’t equal my age. Shouldn’t that be enough to stop the urge to binge eat? One would think so, yet here I sit with a skinny angel on one shoulder holding a fat free cheese stick, and a fat little devil on the other shoulder offering me a bite of his ice cream. That devilish little bastard is heavy and loud and keeps spilling drops of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey down my blouse.

I have replaced sitting on the couch, downing a bag of Doritos while watching Maury for yoga and running but something has got to give because while the surgery and the exercise will keep me losing for a little while longer, eventually time, age, life and mini chocolate bars will get the best of me and I have worked way too hard to ever let that happen again.

Take this job and shove it...not really, but it's catchy!

I swear, I have not fallen off the face of the earth, or into a giant vat of ice cream (as much as that sounds like a purely delightful way to go), but rather I did the unthinkable. I got a J.O.B. That’s right, it was time to strip off my yoga pants and baggy t-shirts and start sporting my big girl clothes again.

The first week I harbored a lot of resentment both towards my husband for pushing me back to work and then towards myself for knowing I had to work if I ever wanted to shop again. It’s a necessary evil, and as far as jobs go, this one isn’t the worst. With a treat and a good trainer, a monkey could pretty much fill my seat for 9 hours a day and do a comparable job. Hopefully my employers don’t catch on to that (or to the fact that I am blogging on work time!) because I am sure a monkey would settle for a smaller hourly wage and a bunch of bananas.

I was also afraid that work might complicate my workout and eating schedule. Sitting on my ass for 9 hours a day when I was used to being out walking or cleaning the house could not be conducive to my weight loss. But, surprisingly, I am still motoring right along. I have to fight the urge to boredom eat every now and then but one afternoon stomach ache resulting from a package of Snackwells cookies set me straight on that one. No matter what I have to do after work, I still make sure to get my workouts in 4-5 nights a week and I’m proud that I am keeping motivated despite being completely exhausted.

Speaking of the weight loss front, changes are taking place once again. My body is transforming like a computer generated image everyday and I am pleased with it….most of the time. When I stop kicking myself in the shins over some extra skin or a belly that is still far from firm, I actually take notice of things like the fact that my “girls” are now smaller and perkier and looking more like the breasts of a 25 year old rather than those of a 50 year old Aborigine on the cover of National Geographic. My ass, while not yet considered small, is now average and can no longer hold a coffee cup on its ledge. My calves do not look like the calves of a Pittsburgh Steelers linebacker, but instead thin and feminine like a woman. I can shop anywhere and almost always find my size. I also notice, with some resentment and bitterness, that it seems the plus size world is finally catching up and making clothes for the youthful and fashionable plus size woman rather than the housecoats of grandmothers past. While I am happy that the beautiful plus size women of the world will now have the option of looking fashion forward, I can’t help but want to donkey punch the world for not releasing these options sooner. But I digress…..

Life in general is good. As it always seems to be if you look hard enough, long enough, and take enough initiative to make it that way. It’s not always easy, but every now and then you stop, take a breath and just realize it is what it is, and it will be what you make of it.

Now, really, I should probably get back to work……so, until the next time I am lacking adult supervision at work, enjoy your day!

90% Mental, 10% Fat Ass

There is a big difference between being fat in mind, and fat in body. I am no longer fat in body by most medical standards. The nurses don’t break out the big blood pressure cuffs anymore, and the doctors don’t end my checkups with the whole “you’re going to get diabetes/have a heart attack/stroke out on the toilet” speech anymore. But, mentally I am still the fat ass that I was 105 pounds ago. I still feel like people stare at me as if I don’t belong whenever I enter the misses section of a department store. I still feel a little embarrassed ordering food in a restaurant as if they are judging me. I still look for clothes to hide my body and I still hate walking away from people because I feel like they are staring in disgust at my enormous backside.

I still have trepidation about sitting in chairs, buckling seatbelts, and walking on treadmills for I am certain that the last six months has all been a dream and the moment I let my guard down and do anything without caution I will break a chair, need a seatbelt extender, or snap the belt on the treadmill.

I look at old pictures and can’t begin to remember or rationalize the life I used to live. How did I think it was ok to scarf down a pint of Ben & Jerry’s every single night and sometimes follow it with a Butterfinger chaser? Why did I not see the damage I was doing everytime I devoured a Red Robins A-1 Peppercorn burger (2000 calories and 96 grams of fat, yessir!!), an order (or two) of buttery garlic and parmesan steak fries and a tower of greasy onion rings? The list could on and on and on…..just as the size of my waistline once did.

My greatest anxiety now is how to never end up back in that same place. Mentally, I just constantly tell myself I can’t have this because of the surgery, or I can’t have that because my stomach can’t handle it, but what about the day a year or two from now when that is no longer true? I don’t want to become the statistic that so many assume I will be, who starts gaining weight and old habits back after a couple of successful years.

For the most part, I am over my love affair and obsession with food. I no longer crave it more than I yearn for breath as I once did. I no longer turn to it for comfort, need it to feel socially relevant, or resent my inability to consume it. But every once in awhile, I will find myself bored and reaching for the chips or the chocolate or some other decadent little snack cake and I have to stop myself and wonder why I was doing it. Or, more importantly, how can I stop the instinctive action that has dominated me for most of my 35 years?

How can I take what I see on the outside and make it match what is on the inside? Is it unreasonable to assume that it’s even possible.

There is one thing of which I am absolutely certain, and that is this – obesity/overeating IS a disease, whether genetic or environmental. Naysayers of the (thinner) world, before you shake your empty heads, just remember that unless you have lived it or lived through it, you should remain open to its possibility. I myself can’t understand how someone becomes an alcoholic or a drug addict, yet the world is full of them and the rehab centers that help them.

If this is true – the addiction of food and its subsequent obesity – than would it be safe to say that I will always be obese, even if it is just in memory? If so, then I humbly present myself to the universe in a thinner shell and say:

“Hello, my name is Lisa and I am an overeater.”

And hopefully, this serves to remind of that from which I came, and how hard I have worked to get to this place, and how I never want to go through it again. From my ice cream stained lips to God’s ears.

100 Reasons I Love Being 100 Pounds Lighter

This post is long overdue, slightly narcissistic and will more than likely make you wonder how I came up with the whole list at work and didn't get fired as I laughed and cried my way through it. I figured I would commemorate having finally lost 100 pounds last week with a list of 100 reason I am grateful to have done so. Feel free to pick and choose rather than gouge your eyes out after reading the entire list, or if you have time on your hands and you don't have ADD, read the entire list and see if you find yourself nodding along.

In no particular order:

1) I get a "do over" in life. I get this one shot to rectify all the wrong that I have done to my body in allowing it to get so fat and out of shape. I also get to correct all that medical science has done to contribute to my cellulite and ever spreading ass.

2) I can chase my kids again, and not just when they are in trouble!

3) I can steal a sweatshirt from my husbands closet and not worry about whether it will fit because I am bigger than him.

4) I can buy smaller shoes. No lie. I went from a size 11 shoe to a 9.5. I never knew feet stored so much fat. Perhaps my arches are just higher without an extra 100 pounds suppressing them.

5) So long full butted undies. Hello, cute little boyshorts!

6) Being able to bend over to tie my shoes without holding my breath. Seriously.

7) Never again having to get on an airplane and ask for a seatbelt extender circa my 2009 trip to Arizona on Southwest. The flight attendant gave me the wonky eye when I asked for one and I had to refrain from donkey punching him in the face since I just didn't have time to submit to a full body cavity search.

8) Being able to walk around without sweating or getting leg cramps. Sad, I know.

9) Getting undressed in front of my husband without shutting off the light or making him "turn the fuck around or you will never have sex with me again!".

10) My kids putting their arms around me and saying "Mom, you are SOO small now!". That never gets old.

11) Attacking clearance racks with the speed and vengeance of a jungle cat attacking its prey. Step aside and let me at the size L's and no one will get hurt!

12) Picking furniture/exercise equipment and NOT having to check the weight limit on it.

13) Having an ass that doesn't knock things over.

14) Having only ONE chin, and no turkey neck. Gobble, gobble!

15) Not having to shop only at plus size stores. Which generally entailed getting ass raped with ridiculously high prices.

16) Buying regular size panty hose. And having a weight that doesn't exceed their size chart.

17) Being able to spoon with the hubby on the couch without having to suck in my gut the entire time as half of me hung precariously over the edge.

18) Not having to squeeze in my gut AND my ass to get by someone in a tight space.

19) Being able to fit in restaurant boothes.

20) Holding up clothes and thinking there is no way MY fat ass will fit into that, only to find it does. With room to spare.

21) Owning a bathing suit that doesn't have a "dress" attached. Ick.

22) Being able to comfortably sit indian style without my stomach sitting in my lap.

23) Being called "Slim" by dad for the first time since I was 18. Seriously, better than fitting into skinny jeans.

24) Not having to hide behind people in pictures.

25) Smaller pants NOT made by Omar the Tent Maker.

26) Sitting in a plastic lawn chair and not feeling the legs bend beneath my girth.

27) Having to pull the seat closer to the steering wheel and not having my stomach touch it.

28) Hugging my husband and not being afraid to let him put his arms around me because I no longer have back fat.

29) Hearing my parents say they are proud of me, and knowing by the look on their face that they mean it.

30) Seeing my ex and silently laughing everytime I remember all the times he said I could never lose the weight.

31) Not sweating when I eat. Seriously, you would think I was a marathon eater scarfing down 100 hotdogs in 2 minutes with the way I used to sweat!

32) Saving money on take out food since I a) can't eat most of it and b) when I do go out I can usually just share food with someone.

33) Gaining knowledge I can pass onto my kids so they never have to struggle the way I did.

34) My daughter telling me I am beautiful and was never fat.

35) Being able to RUN up and down flights of stairs without holding onto the railing for dear life or having an asthma attack.

36) Not struggling between what I should eat and what I want to eat.

37) Wearing clothes just because I like them, and not because of what they will hide.

38) Wearing belts again. Especially since they are no longer the size around of a radial tire.

39) Having small, feminine hands again rather than stumps with sausage fingers.

40) Not being self conscious about eating in front of people. Except for those awkward moments that I drop food and it lands in my cleavage. That is always awkward.

41) Never EVER having cankles again.

42) Being able to cross my legs when I sit for the first time in 15 years.

43) Not leaving huge indentations in the couch where I sit that deform the cushion.

44) Wearing cute flats because I don't need heels to make me look longer and thinner.

45) Going for walks through town, rather than just around the block.

46) Wearing a necklace and not needing to attach a necklace extender.

47) Being able to run for 30 minutes and still feel like I want to do more.

48) Doing yoga and not having to do the "modified" version of the moves. Or crying when I can't hold the poses. Yeah, in the beginning I did that way more than I care to admit to. And couldn't even wash down the tears with a Little Debbie snack cake.

49) Going to the pool without fear of being harpooned.

50) When I lost 50 pounds I could totally see my body transforming. More than meets the eye.....

And *BREATHE*.....feel free to break for a snack. Let's all go to the lobby! Let's all go to the lobby! Let's all go to the lobby, and get ourselves a snack!

And resuming the insanity.....

51) Buying bras off the rack (no pun intended. OK, total pun intended!) rather than in a box or with cushioned 10" straps.

52) Not buying wide width shoes.

53) Never getting into someones car and hoping against hope that the seatbelt will buckle.

54) Not being ashamed to step on the scale at the doctors office. At one appt the nurse was going to bypass this ritual and almost lost an eye because of it.

55) Feeling beautiful for the first time in a VERY long time.

56) Hearing my sisters tell me how proud they are of me.

57) Not feeling like the "token fat friend".

58) Running in public without fear of people staring, laughing and pointing at me.

59) Curling up in the corner of the couch and feeling small.

60) Being able to zipper a pair of boots over my calves.

61) Learning a very important lesson - We must learn to eat to live, rather than live to eat.

62) Coming out of a lifelong depression thanks to exercise.

63) Buying/Ordering clothes that don't have an X in the size.

64) Being able to stand up without grunting.

65) Not having knee or foot pain after a night of dancing in heels.

66) Having an ass that looks like an ass, and not a shelf you can set your coffee on.

67) No lovehandles or muffin top!

68) Finding out who my real friends are, and making new ones. Gastric bypass patients are like a secret society and sometimes it takes one loud mouthed ex-fat ass to get them to open up about it.

69) Being able to ride rollercoasters again without fear that the safety latch will break against the weight of my body.

70) Being able to sit in a chair with arms and not have my thighs protruding out the sides.

71) Having my boobs stick out further than my stomach again.

72) Being able to wear corduroy pants and not worry about the friction from my thighs starting a spontaneous fire.

73) Finding that I did still have ribs and hip bones under all that fat.

74) Not having to suffer through wearing Spanx under dresses and fitted shirts.

75) When I had lost 75 pounds, I was no longer considered a "plus size gal" and could finally buy pants in the Misses section rather than the forbidden, tiny back corner of shame.

76) I no longer resent my skinny friends or want to slip them a roofie and fill them with carbs.

77) The day my husband could pick me up and not pop a groin muscle.

78) The look on peoples faces when they haven't seen me in awhile.

79) Being able to wear heels without the pain inflicted by my weight.

80) When I lost 80 pounds, my dad saw me for the first time in months and cried.

81) The look on my moms face when she came home for a visit and saw me in person for the first time since before surgery.

82) For the first time in a long time, someone told me I was "hot". I think that implies that I am also a MILF, which is slightly creepy yet exciting all at the same time.

83) Letting go of the fear of new things and adventures because my weight no longer inhibits me. This winter I want to learn to ski!

84) The surgery forced me to quit smoking which is something that makes my kids very happy. With the exception of the occassional "I've been drinking so a cigarette totally makes sense" smoke.

85) That food is no longer my comfort or my enemy.

86) That I finally set my mind to do something that seemed completely out of my reach, and achieved it without shortcuts.

87) That I finally feel like I can be the role model my kids deserve.

88) For the first time in a long time, not only does my body feel lighter, but so does my heart and that has helped me to break down walls and love more unconditionally.

89) The day my grandmother walked by me and didn't recognize me was the day I realized just how much I have changed and I loved it.

90) When I lost 90 pounds I only had 10 pounds and 2 weeks to go and my body gave me the one finger salute, closed the window and went on vacation. Bastard. But I didn't give up and only vowed to work harder.

91) I learned that I had more cheerleaders and supporters than I ever could have imagined.

92) When someone pays me a compliment I can finally just say thank you.

93) I purposely pick the further parking spot at the store because it feels good to be able to walk without pain.

94) Taking tub baths again because I can actually fit all of me into the tub.

95) At 95 pounds lost I was so close to my goal that I could taste it. But I was afraid to because I didn't want to risk gaining back any weight.

96) I finished my first 5K with a walk/run and didn't die. Even got a t-shirt to show for it!

97) Learning that in order to appreciate my successes I would have to openly share my failures.

98) Finding out I was worth investing time in.

99) I can walk by mirrors and windows and not be afraid to look.

100) It took me an extra week longer than I had planned to lose the 100 pounds but it was totally worth the weight (HA!). Being able to come up with 100 reasons I love my new life means I will release something into the universe that will always remind of where I started.

This has been a long and arduous journey. At times, I wanted to give up. I often wondered if I made the right decision. I've cried, raged, laughed, screamed, rejoiced and fallen apart on a weekly basis. And when I look at the road ahead of me, and remember that the journey is far from over, I don't want to lose sight of any of the emotions that have carried me this far.

My insecurities have kept me humble througout this process and for that I am grateful. Because nothing is worse or more annoying that a narcissistic ex-fat chick with a smaller ass and a big head. I still look at myself sometimes and feel every single one of the now 105 pounds I have lost, but that is a blog for another day.....

Happy (Kinda) "Birthday" to me!

Today is momentous for many reasons. First and foremost, today is the six month anniversary since my surgery. It’s like a half year birthday, except instead of cake, ice cream and presents, I get fruit, water and smaller pants. And on this anniversary of my rebirth, I am happy to share that I have lost…..drum roll, please…… 95 pounds!! Now, if you are reading this you are probably like holy-shitballs-and-mother-of-mercy-that’s-a lot-of-weight, but I have to admit I am a little miffed at my body for being a complete asshole. I set this completely unattainable goal of losing 100 pounds in 6 months. At about the four month mark I didn’t think it was possible to even get close. I stalled out like a rusty Yugo full of fat clowns on more than one occasion and was tempted to drop kick my surgeon in the nut sack. But over the course of the last two months, the weight was flying off. I mean I lost almost 30 pounds in just two months. So my hopes were raised higher than Don King’s hair and I was sure I would be able to pull off that last 10 pounds with no problem. Then I only had 5 pounds and one week to go. Surely, I could do this! I had my husband and daughter hide my scale so I wouldn’t obsess all week, I started my water aerobics classes and was running every other day……and then yesterday happened. One day before my “birthday”.

I was looking through my daughter’s desk to find some tape, when lo and behold I stumbled across my arch nemesis. The scale. That saucy little bitch who rarely tells me the things I want to hear and who taunts me daily, daring me not to exercise or to indulge in a cookie. The whore who mocks me, sometimes for weeks at a time, with little to no weight loss. The dirty little mistress who even manages to shock me on occasion with good news, more than likely out of fear of being smashed in the backyard with a sledge hammer.

So, there she was, looking up at me all glib and shit, daring me to step on and take a look. And being the moron that I am I thought to myself, “it’s only one more day till the weigh in anyway, maybe I should just see how great I have done this week”. True to form, the bitch royally fucked up my day. Because despite all the swimming and running and gross fat person sweating that I have done all week, the scale did. not. move. one. pound. I stood there completely dumbfounded as to how this could be true. Was I bloated? Retaining water? Carrying a fetus inside my vacant and non-existent uterus? Perhaps I was backed up and carrying 10 pounds of poop inside my intestines? Because there is NO WAY I worked this hard to stall out now. So after I kicked the scale across the room, threw it back in the drawer, threw a temper tantrum, cried to my mommy and vowed never to work out again, I came to my senses.

I mean, so what if I didn’t lose 100 pounds in 6 months? I am still in a better place now than I have ever been in my life. I am happier and healthier and doing things I never thought would be possible. Like completing my first 5k on September 11, 2010. Look, I swear, I did it!

































I walked/ran it and it was incredible! I’m taking water aerobics and yoga and hiking and running and these are things I never could have done six months ago. The rest of the weight will fall off, of this I am certain, and I need to take a step back and remember how far I have come on this long and winding journey. I'm gonna stop crying, put on my big girl panties and deal with this in the best way I know how.....by moving forward. And running over the stupid scale in my driveway.

Now, this hasn’t been all sunshine and roses, just to be clear. Besides the weight loss setbacks, I have experienced everything from “dumping syndrome” to constant nausea to a raging case of hemorrhoids, but it has all been worth it to look in the mirror and begin to like what I see. The struggles I have with food and wanting to eat to satisfy my emotional needs is lessening everyday. The sweet-baby-jesus-and-holy-mother-of-mary hot flashes are still controlling my life, but at least I’m not eating my way through the day anymore. And whereas before I used to mourn the loss of food and eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, I am learning to embrace the idea that we eat to live, rather than live to eat. It’s all very eye opening and enlightening and all that spiritual crap that people say that makes you want to smack them while you sit there happily eating a cake roll.

So, new goal…..

For my one year “birthday” my goal is to be confident enough in what I have achieved to post a before and after pic along with my actual starting weight and my present weight. I was thinking of a tastefully artsy nudie pic for your entertainment, but until I learn how to airbrush out my stretch marks and cellulite and make myself look like Demi Moore in Striptease, that ain’t gonna happen.

What I did on my summer vacation.....

What a crazy roller coaster of a ride this summer has been. It's been loops and turns and a little bit of vomit, but when it finally came to an end, and I had regained my sense of balance, I shouted "WHOO HOO, WHAT A RIDE! LET'S DO IT AGAIN!" We celebrated so many blessings this summer, that I leave the warm weather behind with a heart ten times bigger than when the summer began, feeling like I truly got to enjoy the time spent with the people I love.

Friday August 13, 2010 marked a new beginning in the birth of my newest nephew, Mason Christoper Reeves. He breathed life into our family, brought us closer, and stole my heart. He is perfection in Pampers! No, serioulsy, look....




















We also celebrated the birth of our newest niece (compliments of my step-sister!) this past July. Welcome to the world and our crazy family Ms. Abby Tubiolo! She is perfect and gorgeous and now Mason will have a playmate his own age!




















A few weeks ago, my mom and step father came home for a visit and for the wedding and it just felt like everything was right with the world for a little while. This past weekend was a whirlwind of family and love and marriage and monumental moments. And when I say whirlwind, I mean that quite literally as we faced 35mph winds and impending storms! On September 4, 2010 my baby sister married her soulmate. It was so surreal to stand at the alter I had once gotten married at and see my little sister walk down the aisle, gripping onto my fathers arm, to become someones wife. But when I looked over at her groom, and remembered what a wonderful and honorable man he is, I felt a sense of relief wash over me because I know that he will take good care of her. I will always have this built in need to protect her from the world, but I have to pass the baton to him now and allow him to be her world. Not an easy task by any means. I almost feel like a mother giving away her daughter and it still makes me very emotional. This marks another new beginning that I was witness to, and I am honored to congratulate the new Mr. and Mrs. Carl Motz.














































































The day after the wedding, we got to celebrate my grandmothers 85th birthday. It didn't come without its fair share of family drama, but what do you expect from a family as large as ours? The first pic is of my grandmother and her 11 children. That's right...11 children. She was a busy woman! The second is a pic of grandma with most of her grandchildren. Yes, most. You look at the pic and say WHOA! and then remember we are still missing a couple handfuls. The third, is my grandma with most of her great children. This is not a joke people. We are seriously all related. And despite the drama, no one got hit or run over so all in all it was a Grade A day.










































And now, nothing signifies the end of summer like the first day of school. I am giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting some peace and quiet, being able to grocery shop without two hungry gremlins on my heels, and being able to go out for a run without dragging along two kids who are distracted by the sight of friends riding past on bikes or the distant sounds of the ice cream truck. Hopefully, soon I will find a job so I can return to the real world, put on heels, dress up in something other than yoga pants and t-shirts, and be a big girl again. The summer was full of new beginnings, and the fall is full of new possibilities and I cherish and look forward to them all.

But be warned! With all this new time on my hands, you are sure to be inundated with my crazy thoughts, experiences, and ramblings once again. I'm back baby! My pooping schedule can return to normal, you can hear about my weight woes and yays, and laugh at my random blogging about stupid drivers and people who just generally annoy and amuse me.

Buckle your seatbelts, strap on your helmets, put your purse between your legs and slap on an adult diaper if you have a weak bladder and get ready for the ride!