« October 2006 | Main | December 2006 »

November 2006 posts

184 lbs. (11 pounds lost on "re-diet")


10/30/2006  195 lbs.  Starting point for

38 weeks.  14 days to go.


Little camera boy at it again today
I half-heartedly started at 195 lbs. a few weeks ago, and was somewhere over 200-215 at the end of pregnancy, and a half a minute before I got pregnant - I was about pushing 175 lbs.  I'm 184 today.  I'll post photo evidence of my journey to lose the fat suit to keep me on track.  So onto today:

      Cals     Fat     Carb     Prot
Breakstones/2% Cottage Cheese Single Serve Cup ( 8 oz )         180     5     12     22
Pure Protein Choc. Deluxe ( 1 serving )         270     7     26     32
Chicken noodle soup, home recipe ( 1 cup )         127     3     7     18
Coffee, made from ground, regular ( 32 fl oz )         19     0     4     1
Milk, cow's, fluid, skim or nonfat, 0.5% or less butterfat ( 6 fl oz )         64     0     9     6

Fed up and not gonna take it anymore. Or, "Melting Family."

It's official.  My entire family, (with the exception of one infant who will very soon will be chubby), is now technically obese.  I just got "the phone call" from the four year old's preschool program.  Her BMI is 22.  She's gained 2.5 inches and too much weight since last checked.

Based on the height and weight entered, the BMI is 22, placing the BMI-for-age at the 99th percentile for girls aged 4 years 8 months. This child may be overweight and should be seen by a healthcare provider for further assessment.

BMI Range: Overweight

orange underweight, less than the 5th percentile
green healthy weight, 5th percentile up to the 85thpercentile
yellow at risk of overweight, 85th to less than the 95th percentile
red overweight, equal to or greater than the 95th percentile

This means war.  While I'm certain about two years ago we were also all technically obese, the children had slimmed slightly and things looked promising.  This is difficult, you can't understand it unless you've been there, so bear with me.  You cannot tell children to diet.  You cannot put kids on a diet.  You can only model good food behaviors and hope they follow suit.  When your kids get fat, it's almost always directly attributed (at least partially, I know I take lots of blame for it) to the parents or whomever is responsible for the daily nutrition of the kids.  So, it's my fault, my husbands' fault, and our in-laws.  It's okay to say it because we know it's the truth. 

We're all fat, all of us.

"Height: 5 feet, 4 inches
Weight: 187 pounds

Your BMI is 32.1,                  indicating your weight is in the obese category for                  adults of your height."

My mother in law, who is my main babysitter as needed, just had gastric bypass a few months ago, so she's slowly making the changes in her house, but it's so very hard.  My husband was 360 lbs, I was 320 lbs, his mother was 350 lbs, his sister is having the surgery very soon, and there are lots more of overweight or obese people in both of our families.  My kids are like genetically predisposed to be huge.  It's so not fair to them, so we have to kick it, NOW.  This family ain't gonna be fat no mo.  I'm done.  When Mama ain't happy ain't nobody happy.  This is going to be a long and arduous process, it's not like I can just say -"That's it, no carbs for you" and get the family skinny.  We have to do a lot more than that. 

The nurse on the calls asks me, "Do you give them juice?  Too much milk?  Soda?  Snacking?"  Nope.  No juice, at all.  They won't drink it.  Milk?  Hardly, and only skim, ever.  Soda - diet, caffeine free.  Snacks - yeah, but come look in the cabinets.  I don't allow ice cream, cookies, chips, popcorn, anything with trans-fats, hotdogs, processed meats, processed cheeses, boxed meals, frozen dinners, etc. so on and so forth.  It's just simple.  We eat too much and move too little.  Okay.  Need to stop before I get angrier and do something positive.  I'll be back with ideas.  I promise.  :::the wheels in my head are turning:::

Santa Looked A Lot Like Daddy.

It's a little weird this year, I haven't been holiday shopping at all.  "Santa" has made a few online orders that have started trickling in from UPS, and it's a surprise to me too, because I didn't pick out any of this stuff.  I think the Mrs. needs to have a little chat with the fat guy in the red.  "Santa" apparently chooses toys and gifts that require batteries or plugs.  "Santa" likes video games.  "Mrs. Claus" doesn't.  Mrs. Claus doesn't think the kids need an X-Box, because the PS2 is perfectly acceptable and they got that only last year.  The boy child also tends to take over these sort of gifts, and will claim the XBox "his own."  Mrs. Claus sees this opportunity for a fight that will repeat itself over and over again, even if the system is only used in the family TV area.  But, what does she know, she's only here to bake cookies and make Santa fat.

The boy has ideas about what he'd like for Christmas.  He made a list.  Oh Yes He Made A List.  Last night I asked him to translate a few of the entries onto new letters for each grandmother.  Both grandmas have asked for ideas for the kids, and he was perfectly happy to write them a little note about what he'd like from them, you know, just an idea.  This is what he wrote to my mom (Meem, take note, cuz here it is)  "Sims 2 Pets African SaFarI and 1,000 Feet Walkie TalckyAnd for the other Meem, here's her list:  "Battele the bad guys with miistick fers Power Rangurs, Morfunaadur, Storm Lanckur."  If you can translate this (I can), there ya go, that's it for him.  I'll leave the other four hundred suggestions to you, they are all on the List.  The girls?  They would like "surprises."  The oldest doesn't like toys, and won't tell me what she wants.  The four year old would like "everything."  The baby hasn't said much, but she could use a highchair for later on, and clothing, size 3/6 months for the winter.

Your heart is full of unwashed socks.

Welcome to the season of Grinch!  I'm not in love with the holiday season - I get all a twitter about spending money.  (On that note - I saw a blip about "money = happiness" rumors being debunked, and you know I must read this, because nearly all of my current issues in life are one hundred percent traced back to money.) 

Back to the season:  My kids still believe that I let a morbidly obese man in a red suit shut off our house burgulary alarm and come in to give them gifts.  They've always wondered how it was that this big chubby guy was to get into (any) of our houses, since we've never had a chimney that led to a fireplace.  So, he must "know the code to shut of the alarm, right?"  Sure.  Not only that, but sometimes grandmas give insane amounts of presents and write "From Santa" on the tags.  "But, wait, we don't live here?"  It will be less stressful on me when they no longer have the Santa ideal in their little heads, because then they know - Mom & Dad have limits.  Santa is "magic" and can bring wishes, right?  So you can't really put a huge limit on his budget.  (At least, that's what I'll say when circling the diamond stud earrings & anniversary right hand ring out of the Zales catalog for my Santa list.)

"So, the rumors are true."

I said I would share more about the reunion.  One of the class officers (I think, I got a lot of comments from random people) said to me "So, the rumors ARE true, you do look fantastic."  In other words, "Last time I saw you, you were the size of a house, and now, you're slightly smaller than an elephant!"  As for everybody else - most of the girls (women, we're growed-ups now) looked fantastic, many very professional/put-together, many very freaking thin, some too anorexi, thin, some sorta chubby, some post-baby chubby, but I don't recall anybody being really obese, which surprised me.  (Though, us fat folks sometimes avoid this kind of thing!)  The boys, as expected were balding and getting chubby.  I didn't recognize many of the men, because they all looked so much older.  The night just really accentuated that we're getting old and need to get our crap together.  I think I win the "most kids with the same husband" award - but we have some catching up to do in the income/buy a really big house/get a job with a fancy title area.  (I knew that, though, these people have had ten years to go to college, get varied degrees, jobs, etc... I had babies!)

I just pulled the memory card out of the camera - and realized - I only took three pictures.  It would have been slightly weird taking pictures of people I haven't seen in years, right?  Also, because lots of people didn't really know who the hell I was, it would have been weirder.  So, here's a picture of me and an old friend from school.  (Yeah, we have nearly the same hair, and ignore my chinage.  It too, shall pass.)
I took three photos all night.


Eh.  What's that song?  High school never ends?  I wish more of the friendly faces I remember from school showed up tonight, but as most of them would say, they "hated all those people, why the hell would they pay to see them again?!"  Oh well, we can't all be totally anti-social all of the time.  More later, baby calls.

Holiday Eating Strategy

I'm sitting here whilst the bird cooks - and blog browsing.  Jen @ Hot Fat 4 Sale has a nifty little strategy for getting through the holiday eating today.  This is deliciously SIMPLE!

From Jen's blog:

"I’m going to put 3 oz. of turkey on my plate—what I’d normally allow myself for a protein serving at any meal. And then I’m allowing myself two bites of any food that’s on the table that I want to eat. My first bite is going to be to see if I like it, need it, want it, crave it, hate it, etc. The second bite is to savor it or say goodbye to it. I don’t need a third bite. I’ll already know what it will taste likes and the third bit won’t taste any better than the first two.

I’m also asking my mom to set my place at the table with a small plate (just like I use at home) and give me the smaller dessert fork to use. Plus, I’m taking my own dessert. When I’m done eating, I’m getting up and taking my plate and silverware into the kitchen.

Since we’re eating at 3 p.m., I’m planning on a substantial morning protein shake, my usual coffee and some beef jerky for the ride up. It’s all I will need.

This plan will give me the permission to taste whatever I want with the parameters to keep me from overeating. I’ve got my fingers crossed."

Happy Tryptophan Day.


Have a happy turkey day, all.  Eat too much and take a nap, would ya?  Olive tray, here I come.

Thanksgiving dinner. ;-)


"lactating mamas pictures"

Well hello there, pervsLactating mama here.  I have pictures.  A lactating mama with pictures, and you found me.  Wow.  That's not very disturbing.  Seeing as someone else found me by searching: "top preggo site. knocked up sluts with big bulging bellies" more upsetting.

So, the more important business is, what do you want pictures of?  Ask and you shall receive.

Weight Loss Surgery Called Riskier in Older Adults

According to a new study reported by Edward H. Livingston, M.D.,  in the November Archives of Surgery, older folks are much more likely to have problems after weight loss surgery than younger people.  Seems like it would be an obvious problem, and should be kept in mind when choosing weight loss surgery at an advanced age.  You've got to weight the risks vs. the benefits. 

If the obesity is more likely to the the cause of your early death, the surgery might be more beneficial.  What do you think?  Would you have weight loss surgery at age 65?

"The postsurgical adverse event rate increased with age to more than 32.3% for patients 65 and older, compared with 8.0% for younger patients.

Source:  http://www.medpagetoday.com/PrimaryCare/WeightManagement/tb/4572

Turkey Lurkey Dee and Turkey Lurkey Dat, Eat Dat Turkey Then I Take a Nap.

Just posting a little something to move my younger self down the page, because I'm sick of seeing it. 

So, what's up?  Whatcha cooking?  Are you making Thanksgiving dinner at your house?  Do you find it harder to cook  if you've had WLS already?

We're going to the mom-in-laws' house.  I kidnapped her turkey, and am roasting it at my house and bringing it to hers.  I don't know HOW I'll transport a 26 lb. hot steamy bird in the car.  MIL is "cooking" side-dishes, but most have come in the form of pre-made foods that she purchased.  I'm thinking she's finding it hard to get the urge to make food since she's not going to eat hardly any of it.  My parents are coming too, and bringing some other sides.  This year, it's sort of a lighter meal, since three of the adults have toddler-sized stomach capacity.  Next year, it will be four adults with Happy-Meal appetites - maybe five.

5, 10....

HS Graduation - at about 200 lbs - 1996

Diva commented about the reunion, and mentioned the five year.  We also went to the five year reunion, like I said before, but everybody got trashed.  I can't say that I even got a sip of a beer, since I was pretty much PREGNANT at that time!


Leave it to me - pregnant at the first reunion, exclusively breastfeeding another baby at the second one. If I'm pregnant or nursing in ten years time for the 20 year reunion, remind me that I'm PRACTICALLY (if not already PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME A...) GRANDMOTHER at age 37.  (Sorry, Ma, I did it to her at nearly that young, and practically times two now that I think of it?)  When that time rolls around - I'm going to have a 19 year old, 17 year old, 14 year old & a 10 year old, and if I even had ONE IOTA of an urge to make another baby - feel free to tell me that I'm lucky I'm not a granny - AND - lots of childrens around the world could use an adoptive family.  :-)

S U G A R!

Ten years later.

Senior Prom '96 (Scan), originally uploaded by Melting Mama.

Holy crap. We're headed to our ten-year high school reunion this week. I can't possibly be that old, can I? Wait, I have like a dozen kids, so I guess it's alright that I'm ten years older.

Look at Bob in the photo, he had such an innocent face, no? ::giggling:: Shortly after this photo - we both got super-dee-duperly morbidly obese. (Hence the blog, and makes this post sort of on the topic.) It freaks me out to have people email me and say, "Oh, you look fantastic, I didn't recognize you." Why? Well, look at me in this photo. I'm not all that big!? These people did NOT see me at my highest weight. A few, perhaps, at the five year reunion, but most were Very Intoxicated. Now, I go back to the ten year reunion, just a few pounds smaller than my senior year weight, what a hoot. While I would have liked to be at goal weight for this Occasion, there's no way, I just had a baby. So, :-P.

Anyways - do you go to your reunions?! Do you avoid them? Do you go to just sit, drink, point and laugh? Ah, what the hell, right?

Today is the day we give babies away.

I totally gave her away today.  Bob had an odd day off - and I seized an opportunity to leave the house without the infant.  I had been holding her, calming her and feeding her for hours and she wasn't letting me put her down at all.  When she was tanked up and relaxed, I screwed out of the house and went to get a haircut.  Not only did I get a haircut, I got a freaking latte.  (Oh, I'm so very bad.) 

Though she was "good" while I was out of the house (because I was only gone just under 1.5-2 hours), she made up for it later today.  It's Auntie's birthday - so we were going out to dinner.  I brought the babe in, and figured I'd just keep her happy in my lap and get through the meal without disaster.  Not so.  She wanted to nurse, and I couldn't get her latched on comfortably at the table, and it was hot, and covering her wee head with a blanket gets annoying.  Of course, having complete strangers gawking at me because I'm ::GASP::  "feeding a baby" in a public area is not very pleasant either, so I try to avoid being obvious.  It wasn't working out, and then she made The Most Ginormous Fart.  The Fart led to The Poop, and The Poop sent me out to the vehicle to change her.  Noone would have noticed that she even "went" in the restaurant, seeing as her poop smells quite like the alfredo sauce everyone was eating.  :-P  It bothers me to let her sit in it - since she goes so often, so out to the car we went.  I changed her, she lost her mind, she we ended up sitting in the car for the remainder of dinner.  So, I had a light meal, eh?  I ate a crust of bread dipped in olive oil and some hard romano cheese.  This entire affair tired me out, so I didn't make it to the grocery store.  Phooey.  I'll do it tommorrow - She Lets Me - since I also have an eye doc appointment, new glasses time.   (Oh, and they're B1G1 - yay for sunglasses!)Na_versus

-MM, who wishes should could just "go" once every couple of days.  Oh, to be a baby.

If Nicole Richie had a gastric bypass, then I'm gonna have 'nother one.

"Nicole Richie is denying speculation that she underwent gastric bypass surgery and then had the operation reversed.  Rumors began spreading this week after the New York Post ran a blind item claiming a "Hollywood starlet" had gastric bypass surgery – and then, after losing too much weight, went in to have the gastric band removed."

Source:  People Magazine

What doctor would give a already thin person gastric restriction surgery?  C'mon, that's ridiculous.

The quick red fox jumped over the lazy dog.

Quickly, yes, because she will stir and wake, because I sat down.  Let's just say that the Natures' Touch Cradle Swing is gawd-send.  (Thanks, Meem.) 

It's probably not a good sign if I couldn't get my four year old to preschool this morning.  Bob normally drives her, but he left super-early this morning, to head to a different location.  I can't imagine trying to get out of the house early for work with an infant, it's insanity.  I forgot to make the kids' lunches for school, so in doing so this morning, I had to let the baby cry.  (I hate listening to it, and save it - I've done this three times already - and babies don't learn crap by letting them cry.)

Anyways - I have more to blog - but I'mma save this post before I forget to come back to it.

the young cones have taken over.

repeat of yesterday.  apparently, she does not like the early evening.  figures, because that is when the kids need me.  ::sigh::  just tonight, we blew out three diapers and had a spit up that soaked her entire head (she doesn't ever spit, "gotcha, ma!") in about two hours.  she's now finally napping - but - where?!  I laid her down in the crib and she cried so hard she nearly hyperventilated.  "Mama, she is really red."  I can't get anything done in full.  though - the dishwasher comes tommorrow!