Okay, it's too hard for me not to say more. I'm celebrating the last day of summer and the last day of delish food, as I know it. For with the start of school for the children, comes the start of a strict diet, for me. I have 12 weeks until Honey's first birthday and 10 pounds to shed. Plenty of time. Right? I hope. Because these 10 pounds are vicious, I tell you! They're the ones that like to sneak up on me every few years and spackle themselves to my outer thighs and stretch-marked baby paunch. Every single First Birthday photo has a chubby me, hiding behind a cake and a cute baby because of the dreaded 10. Not this time! Not this time.
And so, because I am loathe to do anything hard without a reward (do as I say, not as I do, kids) I have negotiated the best prize ever for my efforts (besides a thinner, happier me). The conversation went as follows:
Me: Hey, Honey. Since I didn't receive a birthday gift or anniversary gift from you AND I didn't spend a dime of the birthday money given to me, if I lose 10 pounds can I buy myself some new clothes?
DH: Um, sure.
I know. My powers of negotiation are overwhelming. Seriously, guys, I'm not talking about a Target Clearance Rack Shopping Extravaganza (my usual fodder for something achieved). I'm talking about finding some serious style, probably in the regular priced Target clothing racks. Oooohh.
Besides just losing the weight, I'm setting my sights on getting my calves small enough to fit in some serious knee-high boots. This is huge. Since I was born with, possibly, the world's largest calves on a woman. But I'm gonna do it.
So, if you have any dieting survival tips, and any calf shrinking poultices, send them my way! And together we can make this happen (big smiley face, exclamation, exclamation).
P.S. In DH's defense (because I know some of you are fans of his) I did request not to receive anything for both occasions. But he did send me flowers for #10. (wipe a tear, blow a kiss) AND he says that he won't forget that the birthday money in the savings account is mine (swoon). In this case, definitely DEAR husband.
7 comments:
You know I share your larger-than-desirable calf problem...and I wear knee high boots [hooker boots as I call them] all the time in the cooler months! It's all about the stretch! I've found Nine West stretch boots [with the zipper] allow me to fold my calf into them with ease...and they are not even that uncomfortable. My first hooker boots were purchased in Idaho Falls at ZCMI, and they were stretch with no zipper and that was even better...they like vacuumed my legs in causing them to look slimmer. Like spanx for your legs! So maybe check that out. Good luck!
P.S. Mason is 15 months and I still look 6 months pregnant. *joy*
I am a Packard. I need chocolate. C.H.O.C.O.L.A.T.E. So when I am trying to be good and eat right, I let myself have instant jello pudding. So good, it tastes like chocolate mousse. It is low in calories and very satisfying! Try it.
Oh, those calves. Always coming back to haunt us. How were we girls all so lucky to get the same leg problems? (Tiny knee caps with the huge ponch on the side, thighs that rub through our jeans, and calves disproportionately sized to our bodies . . . sigh.)
I hear, though, that pilates are supposed to create long, lean muscles (like dancers have). So there's an idea.
Oh, and don't forget that I love you.
The calves. The rotten calves. Oh well. Don't forget, I have knee-high boots. Maybe I don't look that swell in them (I currently don't fit in them), but I have them. And I love them. Two pairs. So they ARE out there. And they do fit us sisters.
I have no tips. Sorry. But if you get any good ones, send them my way. I desperately need them too.
Love you tons.
I am an expert dieter.
Here's my free tip. Watch the Krispy Kremes that you cut in half before you fry them in butter. BAAAAD news sista!
Hey you girls! Quit knocking the calves. They are a gift from you loving mama.
all i'm gonna say is: whole grains. oh, and, who fits into knee-high boots anyway?
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