A Big Girl's Prerogative

I don't seem to be running out of topics yet, so how about I just keep on truckin'?

As you may have noticed from my previous words, I am a big girl, round, chubby, big boned, whatever you want to call it, as long as it isn't "fat," that is an ugly word and I prefer not to use it. (By the way, I love that MySpace calls it "more to love.") Since this is where I can pour my heart out and in the spirit of not censoring myself I will say this: I am five foot four and a quarter inch (that quarter inch is important, it's all I've grown since like eighth grade) and as of two weeks ago I weighed in at 248 pounds, something that surprised me considering I haven't dipped below two-fifty in quite some time.

I don't diet, I don't even own a scale. The only reason I happen to know my exact weight is because they put me through that little bit of torture every time I go in for my birth control shot. I have no aspirations to drop over a hundred pounds to fit into that little chart they give you based on height. I have no goal of squeezing my plump ass into a size six pair of jeans that I have to hold my breath to get into, just to impress perfect strangers. I certainly don't plan on starving myself, or struggling to count calories or weigh my food.

I may not be the most attractive chick in the hen house, but on the front lines of dieting, I'd consider myself a hell of a lot more sane and a lot less miserable. It probably sounds like I have given up and thrown in the towel but rest assured it is far from it. I have as many body image issues as the next person. Remember, even skinny people hate their bodies too. I don't always look in the mirror and when I do, I am not always pleased with what I see. I wish clothes fit me better, even just T-shirts without the belly bulge. I wouldn't mind doing a little something about the appearance of a double chin, it makes me paranoid about having my picture taken, something I already have reservations about. I wish I felt lighter, simply because I am terrified of my hubby picking me up even though he would have no reservations about doing so.

But at the same time, the hubby likes what I got, and that feels good. I have a great bit of cleavage that others have been jealous over. I've got a complexion that causes people to ask what I use, followed by the shock when I say nothing at all. And whether or not it is just to make me giddy, who knows, but the hubby makes my day every time he sees a skinny girl and says "god, just eat a sandwich already."

I almost wish food was my problem, but surprisingly it isn't. If you looked at me you would probably think I ate everything I baked but I don't. (On a side note, I made some wonderful cookies last night, I know this because I actually had one!) Can you believe sometimes I forget to eat? Before the hubby leaves for work we eat a little something that we call breakfast, but then after he leaves for work it's like it doesn't even occur to me until eight hours later and he is on his way home where dinner typically doesn't happen until past midnight. My hubby is a cook, a foodie. With my pickiness I can't help but feel bad when he makes a big dinner of pork roast or something, and I end up eating a deli sandwich. I need more calcium (my birth control depletes it,) more protein, more iron, more everything. I feel like I should be in one of those V8 commercials, the one where the guy says something along the lines of "no matter how many times you hit me I am still not going to like V8."

I'm worried I'll end up a diabetic because of my eating habits, but then again that could be the borderline hypochondriac talking. I don't necessisarily want to loose a bunch of weight but I do need to get in better shape. Exercise is like a foreign concept for me, I've got a great list of excuses if you want to hear them sometime. It's not like I sit on my ass watching soap operas all day, it's just how much exercise can you get in a 380 square foot apartment?

The main reason I want to get into better shape, whatever shape that may be, is because as much as I want children and as much as I have set my life up for being a parent to surpass the importance of anything else, I'm afraid of being pregnant. (Cue the borderline hypochondriac again.) I'm afraid that I'd be putting myself or the baby at risk because of my big girl status. I know most if not all of this fear is unwarranted. Women of every shape and size have been giving birth to healthy babies for an eternity. However I've watched a girl, a little bigger then me, drop into seizures because of preeclampsia, which I know is common enough for doctors to most of the time be prepared and prevent anything bad from happening, but it still scared the hell out of me.

So, I say this: My first goal is to try to bring some consistency to my diet. Three meals a day, and perhaps even at reasonable times. For years I have been trying to broaden my picky selection of likable foods, so that goal is still ongoing. I am not good at setting goals but hey, it's worth a try and I certainly think the cause merits the effort. To the future "baby makes three," I thank you for the motivation, I only hope I can follow through.