Saturday, November 20, 2010

Nov. 19, 2010

In which I quote Lou Holtz and Kelly Ripa


Yesterday I was watching Regis and Kelly like I do every morning. Regis' good buddy and hero was
sitting in the audience. Lou, when asked, recited his 'four things' one needs in life.


* First, you have to have something to do.
* The second thing you have to have is someone to love.
* Third, you have to have something to believe in.
* Finally, you have to have something to look forward to.

and as Kelly Ripa so cleverly quipped,


"Someone to blame."


How funny is that? Someone to blame!
Yes. It goes back to the Garden of Eden.
When Eve is caught red-handed she starts blaming all of those around her for taking that apple and biting into it.
Hey! It was food. Now that IS extra interesting in light of where I am going with this.

While I think it is funny and common to blame our flaws on others, I truly do not believe my weight issues are anyone's fault but my own. I sincerely take responsibility for my poundage.

I like to tell my ten year old daughter Katie that it is her fault that I am so chubby because I gained weight with her at the age of 42 and have never been able to lose it. Yes. I said ten year old daughter.
We laugh because we know this is absurd.

There is a pattern. I can see things in my life that led me to overindulge and enjoy lots of food.

When I was born, I as one of my mom's smallest babies. I weighed under seven pounds. I think this worried her, because within months I was round and chubby and beautiful. They called me Booba. I guess the resemblance to a Buddha did not go un-noticed.
This was in the 1950's. Being a chubby baby was consider healthy.
Healthy=good.

No. We were not living on Samoa.
This was Chicago.

As I grew, I grew skinny. Very skinny. I remember stories about not being able to wear skirts because my hips were too slim.
I wore jumpers. Little plaid jumpers. Homemade.

On week I decided I wanted to wear my homemade jumper to school every single day for the whole week.
It was gold and brown wool plaid.
My mother didn't notice and I succeeded.

I had lofty goals as a 4th grader.

(I still would like to wear the same outfit every day for a whole week)

Another goal I had was to eat as much as my father. Now whether this was wise is not up for discussion.
I just remember sitting next to my dad and taking as much as he did.

I can still see the plate.

Roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy.

I proudly took as much as my father did and I ate it all. Gladly. It was my favorite meal.
And it still is.

My parents thought I was skinny and they thought it was funny that I wanted to eat like my dad.

There was no malice. In hindsight, I may have learned some poor eating habits at the dinner table, but I was skinny, how were they to know I would enjoy eating like a lumberjack for the rest of my life.

The love of eating for taste and socialization continued throughout high school but my physical activity let me get away with murder. I blame cheerleading.
Yes. At 125 pounds I started feeling like a hefty girl. I was a base. Sturdy, muscular, solid enough for the 105 pound girls to climb on. In 1975 if you weighed 130 pounds, you wore a size 11 or even a 13. This was the top of the line. The sizes were
5, 7, 9, 11, 13. So I started feeling like the big, girl. The fat one.

(I happen to know lots of girls who weigh 125-130 and boy have things changed. They wear sizes 2,4,6.)

And so the body-hate and dieting began.

I blame the clothing industry and petite girls.

Off to college I went. I was a dance major at first so I was extremely active.
The food, however, was amazing.
Sophomore year I changed majors and was very lonely and bored and didn't fit in.
I started gaining weight.

Buy the time I left Stephens College for Hillsdale in 1977, I had gained twenty pounds.
At 150 pounds I was curvy. I am 5'6" after all, but I was admittedly 20 overweight.

I helped the cheerleaders at Hillsdale with their routines and taught them cheers,
but I was too self conscious about my weight to try out.

I blame....
I blame...
I blame...

Who can I blame for this?

The skinny chicks. That's who!
Everybody else! That's who!

I will blame everyone for thinking I was too fat.

Huh? What?

For the next thirty years....I gained and lost and gained and lost more times than I can count. I am not exaggerating.

Some of the gains were pregnancy induced.

I blame my babies.
But I was always able to lose the weight.

Until I started to homeschool.

THAT'S IT!

I blame the sedentary life of a homeschool mom.

But why aren't all homeschool mom's overweight? Ah yes. It's my parents fault.
I always knew that. They force fed me and called me Booba.


Can you hear my sarcasm? I hope so, because I am being totally facetious.

I believe that food is delicious. I like it.
I have pleased myself by feeding myself what I loved and way too much of it.
I have been lazy.

At some point I needed to acquire self control in the area of eating.
At some point I needed to be in charge of my appetite.

The self-control has come and gone. It is hard to make changes. It is hard to say no.

But as I have mentioned before....

It is hard to be fat and it is hard to diet.

Choose your hard, Donna dear.

Choose wisely.

It's about time.

There is no one to blame.