Skinny Betches DANCE!

My middle child and oldest daughter is a Skinny Betch. She's my fact-checker. She also sends me Skinny Betch fun-facts from time to time. Like, Skinny Betches shop at Trader Joe's. Which leads me to one of my own observations about Skinny Betches:

Skinny Betches are usually young, unmarried, and childless. I'm not stating this to give myself an excuse for being a Fat Chick. Rather, I'm wondering what happens in a woman's brain when she gets married and has kids. In my research, I've noticed that Skinny Betches ARE HAPPY being Skinny Betches. Does that change with marriage and kids? I honestly don't know; as I've said, I've never been a Skinny Betch, so I don't have any point of reference.

Now, I know that this isn't true of all married Skinny Betch mothers. My best friend in all the world is a Skinny Betch. She's happily married with two beautiful daughters and at a couple years younger than I, she's a freaking tri-athelete. And I know for a fact, she shops at Trader Joe's!

Here's why I don't shop at Trader Joe's: They are a little more expensive, they aren't anywhere near anyplace I ever need to be, they have less of a variety of the things I need as a single mother/student/full-time in-home day-care provider (easy to cook stuff that kids will eat), and their produce, while beautiful and organic, doesn't last as long as non-organic produce which would mean I have to shop more often. While these things aren't problematic for most Skinny Betches, for this Fat Chick, it just isn't my best option.

So, I wonder what good it will do me to THINK like a Skinny Betch if I can't shop like one....

Skinny Betch daughter also sent me this nugget of wisdom: Skinny Betches dance!

Well, guess what! So do Fat Chicks! We just don't dance where anybody can see us. It's embarrassing. Not to mention dangerous. The potential danger of swinging arm-fat alone is enough to deter even the most intrepid of Fat Chicks; who needs THAT lawsuit hanging over her head?

I applauded the courage of Marissa Winokur and Kirstie Alley when they were on their respective seasons of Dancing with the Stars. I was especially impressed with Kirstie when Max Chmerablah-blah fell under her weight during their rumba, and she just got up and went on as if she didn't know that the whole country was watching and judging and criticizing and probably laughing at her pathetic fatness. And didn't she get the last laugh? She lost all her excess weight and she's HOT now, and back at doing what she loves to do and making loads of money doing it! Good for her!

Kirstie's courage wasn't in dancing; it was in choosing to dance in the most humiliating fashion imaginable. I'm pretty sure I don't have that courage. I know I don't, actually.

I do dance, though. I dance with my youngest all the time, because she dances all the time and she makes me. Also, my mother got me a dance game for my Wii for Christmas. I love it! It's a good cardio workout that doesn't feel like a cardio workout. It's fun, it feeds my competitive nature, and it allows me to dance where it is safe for everybody.

So, I weighed myself today and I'm proud to say that I have lost 4 pounds in the last week! YAY! I've done pretty well with eating better. There was one night that I ate an entire fully-loaded Chipotle burrito in one sitting, but because I knew what I was doing when I did it (meaning, I didn't fool myself into believing that what I was eating wasn't that big of a deal), I ate much less the next day to balance out the calorie overload. I'm not hydrating enough yet, but more than I was, and I haven't seen the inside of an elevator for an entire week! I must say, the first couple of days on the stairs were murderous, but by Friday it was much less painful. Not easy, just let painful.

I have a guy friend who used to weigh more than I do now, and he's now a very healthy and normal weight. I told him once that when I look in the mirror, I don't see myself as the Fat Chick I must be in order to wear the size of clothes that I do. He told me that when he looks in the mirror, he still sees the Fat Dude he used to be. I was absolutely shocked to learn that another friend of mine wears a size 16; I would have sworn on my life that she was larger than I am, but it turns out I'm MUCH larger than she is.

This is how deluded I have allowed myself to be. The psychology of self-image is some strong ju-ju. I think if I can get to the root of that, I might get this licked. I got another app on my iPad that sort of brought me face to face with my own delusions. I entered my weight and height and it gave me an illustrated picture of what I look like. I asked my youngest if this picture was how I looked. She was almost sad when she nodded her head. I just nodded my head back and said, "OK..... ok". Then I cried.

I'm not trying to beat myself up with my fatness. Honestly I'm not. I'm just not sure I can do this, that I can WANT to be a Skinny Betch ENOUGH to stick with this if I don't accept the full reality of what I have become. I've noticed that I have to keep doing it over and over, because I forget. I walk through the emotional fire of acceptance and I think I've got it, then I go to bed and wake up having forgotten the fire entirely.

But Skinny Betches DANCE.... They dance like nobody is watching. Fat Chicks dance like everybody is watching, and most of the people watching are pointing and laughing. But my goal isn't to just acknowledge my Fat Chick-ness, but learn to be and think like a Skinny Betch. I mean, I don't have to rumba, right?

For Realz

I have an iPad. I adore it. Seriously, it is revolutionizing my life. No matter what you want to do, or how you want to do it, I swear on my life, there is an App for that!

Last Tuesday, when I decided to change dietary directions, I got this free App called MyFitnessPal. It's amazing. It is everything Weightwatchers.com is, minus the twenty bucks a month out of pocket. It's actually a little bit more, because I can take it with me!

For the last six days, while I've been observing Skinny Betches, I've also been observing my own dietary habits. I've come to the conclusion that I am a master at self-deception.

When I first downloaded the App, I had to set up my profile. I entered in my current weight, and the weight I'd like to be. Then I entered in the amount of weight I'd like to lose per week. Initially, I was quite overjoyed by the fact that I could personally ingest exactly 2,120 calories and still lose one pound per week. YAY!

But wait a minute....

That is a LOT of calories. I have to eat a LOT of calories to weigh less than I do now, which means that I've been eating an ENORMOUS amount of calories to be this fat. Not only have I been eating enough calories to be this fat, I've actually managed to eat even more than THAT, because I haven't been maintaining, I've been gaining. Holy CRAP! How can this fact possibly have escaped my notice? I literally eat enough to sustain two people!

After getting past that mental hurdle, I started getting honest with myself. I spent this last week logging everything I NORMALLY eat, without restraint and with complete honesty about the portion sizes and everything. I came in under that enormous calorie level exactly ONE TIME. Holy freaking CRAP!

My mother is an amazing woman and probably my biggest cheerleader in everything I do. When I started this blog, I wanted her input and her honest opinion. She said that probably the only thing that she would change is the fact that I call myself and women who are not Skinny Betches, "Fat Chicks". She said that people in her circles of acquaintance feel uncomfortable when she calls herself fat, and she likewise felt uncomfortable with me calling myself fat.

Well guess what. I'm FAT. I'm a FAT CHICK. I'm not simply overweight, or big-boned, or slow metabolismed, or fluffy, or plump. I'm FAT. Softening the language doesn't soften the reality of the fact that I have a problem. Just like it doesn't help when the friends and family of an alcoholic says that their friend just likes to have a good time, it doesn't help me, or any other Fat Chick, for my friends and family make the conscious decision, no matter how well-meaning, to enable my self-destructive habits by denying their existence. I'm not going to say that food is an addiction, but my behavior is not at all different from that of an addict's, and I can't afford to care about other peoples' feelings when I decide to once and for all call a spade a Fat Chick. It is what it is.

So tomorrow it begins. I'm ditching the roll-around backpack, and packing a bottle of water and a granola bar. I'm not a Skinny Chick by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm going to "fake it 'til I make it". I'm a Fat Chick on a Skinny Betch mission, y'all. I'll let you know how it goes! :-)

And because this post wasn't really funny, here's somebody else's funny to compensate....

In a Manner of Thinking

I've been doing a lot of thinking about The Skinny Betch Diet. I've been doing some research as well. And by "research", I mean, "spent some time watching Skinny Betches in their natural habitats and comparing them to myself who is NOT a Skinny Betch."

So, what is the natural habitat of the Skinny Betch? As far as I've been able to ascertain, Skinny Betches can be most commonly found in one of three places: in and around any mall location of Victoria's Secret, in and around any gym that offers Zumba classes, or, in and around any college campus. As it would be downright ridiculous for me to even try to pretend I could possibly have any business in a Victoria's Secret, and I have actual allergic reactions to the gym, I centered my research around the college campus. Plus, I'm there 5 days a week anyway, so....

So far, my research has yielded some interesting results. I've been able to identify strong correlations, if not cause, between the thinking and habits of Skinny Betches and those of Fat Chicks. Of course I can't speak for the Skinny Betch, but for the Fat Chick..., well, THIS Fat Chick, there is a sort of chicken/egg conundrum: Do I have the thinking and habits I have because I am fat, or am I fat because I have the thinking and habits that I have? I can't say what came first, but I do know that one compounds upon the other in a continuous cycle, and thus, I keep getting fatter. One or the other's going to have to change and since I can't wave the proverbial magic wand and make myself a Skinny Betch, I'm going to have to train myself how to think like one. Hence, everything this blog is about.

So, here are some things that I've noticed:

1. Skinny Betches don't ever let themselves get more than just a little teeny bit hungry. At the first sign that hunger might occur, they whip out (gasp!) a piece of fruit or a granola bar or something mostly healthy! I noticed this in my Human Sexuality class last semester, but it didn't register until I saw it happen a few other times this past week. In that class, I sat a few chairs down from a Skinny Betch, and every day before class started, like clockwork, she would pull out from her backpack a granola bar or a banana. And every single day, like clockwork, I would sit through that class, marking time until it would end and I could sprint (yeah, not really) to the student cafe, stomach grumbling and clenching in near starvation (did I mention that I'm often given to hyperbole?) Which brings me to observation #2....

2. Skinny Betches seem to have an internal clock, or maybe they just know the importance of a schedule, that lets them know that it is time to eat. I've raised 2 1/2 kids (one is still growing) and I have an in-home daycare. I've fed a lot of babies and I've never been a proponent of feeding a baby on a schedule. Babies are constantly growing and their needs are constantly changing, and they don't have the slightest idea of how to tell time. So, if they indicate that they are hungry, I feed them. It's really the only ethical thing to do. I've made the mistake of applying that philosphy to myself. Except that I don't really want to be constantly growing. So, in thinking about the above observation, had I scheduled breakfast before class, along with bringing that backpack snack mentioned in observation #1, I might not have ever felt the need to eat ridiculous amounts of food for lunch.

(This all might seem to be common sense, and as I type it I am wondering how it is I didn't know it on a practical level.)

3. Skinny Betches always, and I mean always have a bottle of water with them. This will now be one of my mantras: "A Skinny Betch is a Hydrated Betch!"

4. Skinny Betches never, and I mean NEVER take the elevator. Where I actually bought an L.L.Bean rolling backpack specifically so that I would not have to take the stairs, no self-respecting Skinny Betch would ever forego the stairs, no matter what! She could be on crutches due to a volleyball injury, but she would rather die than be seen anywhere near the elevator. The Good Lord forbid that she is seen by a Fat Chick on an elevator; "Oh, yeah, Skinny Betch, you're one of us now, aren't you? Mwah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Might as well cut up the Victoria's Secret card right now.... It's just a matter of time."

The above observations don't seem to be just habits. I honestly believe that there isn't a Skinny Betch alive that deliberates over whether to take the stairs or the elevator. I believe that most Skinny Betches, if asked, would not be able to tell you where an elevator might be in any given multi-story building. I think this is because the word "elevator" isn't in their vocabulary. Along with "seconds", "plus-size", or "palpitations".

Coincidence? I think not.

The Skinny Betch Diet or Confessions of a Fat Chick

Today was supposed to be Day 14 of my Atkins Diet which was going to melt away all of my fat until I could fit into the cute cheap clothes in the Not Fat Chick section of Target. I long for that day. I had commitment to the diet, but my stomach had other ideas. I would be on the diet for about 3 days, then nausea and diarrhea would ensue and would only go away if I ingested a glob of carbs, like a biscuit or piece of pizza. This happened 3 times in the last 2 weeks, so I'm giving up that ghost.

Instead of Atkins Diet, Day 14, it is now The Skinny Betch Diet, Day -6. It's Day -6 because I'll be starting it on Monday the 23rd. I need that time to actually develop the diet, see. I also need that time to eat up all the stuff that I'm pretty sure Skinny Betches don't eat. For instance, I have a bag of Mother's Circus Animal frosted cookies on my desk as I write this. No, the irony isn't lost at all, I'm just ignoring it.

Never having been a particularly Skinny Betch myself, I'm not sure what they eat. I'm pretty sure they don't single-handedly eat entire bags of frosted cookies, though. I'm also fairly certain they don't eat half a pizza in a sitting. In fact, the single-most prevalent thing I notice about Skinny Betches when they eat is that they eat a bite, then talk for 20 minutes, then eat another bite, then talk for another 20 minutes, then they take another bite, declare themselves to be Fat Cows, then they throw the rest away. Unless, of course, there is a Fat Chick at the table, in which case the Skinny Betch will ask the Fat Chick, with not one speck of guile, if the Fat Chick would like to finish her meal; she hates to throw food away if she doesn't have to.

Another thing I've noticed is that Skinny Betches have no problem going to a Denny's and ordering weird. Like, "I'd like the fish & chips, but can you poach the fish instead of frying it? And instead of tarter sauce, can I have lemon juice and a side order of light ranch dressing, and can I just have half of the normal french fries and then a very small salad, also with lemon and a side of light ranch dressing and croutons on the side. And a Diet Coke." Always a Diet Coke - I have that one licked! Skinny Betches are Skinny because they order food like this and only eat half of it. They are Betches because they make somebody else cook it. They can also split a single dessert 4 ways and still have half of it left on the dish, citing mutual Fat Cow-ness as the reason for leaving it. I'm not good at that one at all!

Also, disproportionate amounts of them seem to play volleyball. That's not happening unless there's a Wii version.