Super Inspired Writer

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Monday, August 10

I'm baaaaack 2/2

Part 2 of 2:

Today I started my aforementioned new job in a new school district. This is now the third district I will have worked for so I’m totally hoping three times is a charm. So far so good, all of the back-to school jitters are settling a bit but I’m still overly self-conscious about certain things. First of all, I hate that having to choose a seat at a table thing. Luckily, they had nametags and seat assignments so I was spared the anxiety of where to sit. I ended up next to a new PE teacher in one of my buildings so that was cool.

But what I was most worried about of course was what I was going to wear on my first day. Just like an adolescent going to their first day of Jr. High you want to blend in yet stand out at the same time. I decided on a black and white short jumpsuit I had gotten over the summer at a discount store, woke up early to curl my hair, when that got annoying after five minutes I twisted it up into a hair claw and I was ready to go.

R U Kidding Me??
When I got to the meeting I remembered something, EVERYONE is new. Everyone is in the same boat, not knowing where the best copier is, or where the closest bathroom is to your classroom. It ended up being okay until my carefully chosen outfit backfired on me and me and my table mates realized I matched the Composition notebook everyone was given as a reflection journal. Come on now, I can’t make this shit up.

Even still, day 1 and baby step 1 is done and that’s always the hard part. What’s easy is that I have been offered a completely fresh new start at life. NO ONE knows me there, they don’t know what I have gone through professionally, and no one knows I had weight loss surgery two and a half years ago either. READ: no one knows about my fat days. They all think this is just me, and that is a very bittersweet feeling. As much as I love being a spokesperson for the Lap-band, and as much as I love writing my blog and talking to the numerous people who message me privately with questions…there is a certain animosity that I am excited about. The crazy notion that in this new world, the crazy depressed fat girl never existed.

I am not gonna lie, I love my new body just as a mother loves her newborn baby. I feel good about myself and I love all the new clothes I had been dying to wear. I wore a bikini all summer (well, a skirted one because I still hate my thighs and they are going to the grave with me) and I wore a two-piece dress for my anniversary for crying out loud.  This was the me I was craving to be…desperate to be.

And I guess that’s another lessoned leaned and something that others considering weight loss surgery should go over. The more desperate you are for the new you the better success you will have in my opinion. You have to want that new body like a med student wants to be a doctor or a little girl wants to be a princess. For me a new body meant a new life, and a new life I have indeed in every sense of the word this fall.
And finally who I see in the mirror matches who I see in my head. And who my new friends will meet is thankfully the me I want to be.

Thursday, August 6

I'm baaaaaack 1/2

PART 1 OF 2...

It’s been four and a half months since I last wrote and published a blog and let me tell you so much has happened, and didn’t happen, that I hope I can do my story justice. But I can say that many of my friends have been asking why I haven’t written in a while and when I was going to write again and well, I thought, better late than never. Here geos nothing.

Let me backtrack to March when I started to hard-core look for a new job. I really can’t get into the meat and potatoes of what went down at my last job when I was “honorably released” or some shit, especially since I was slapped on the hand most briskly for posting something on Facebook that was absolutely true but sounded too rant-like and accusatory toward the big wigs. Long story short I no longer was going to have a position where I was, so I had to really step up to the online application plate if I was going to work as a teacher this year. I just refused to accept that I wasn’t.

There was a whopping 5 jobs within 45 minutes of my house that I was qualified for. The one I didn’t get in my last district (see above disclaimer), three that people I was friends with said they had an “in” for (not even a damn interview), and one that was just a random point and click. I also applied to some parochial schools making sure to say I was interested because I wanted to explore my faith in education because I knew that’s what they wanted to hear. That was BS, I know exactly where my faith is no exploration needed, but it didn’t matter because God was already on it and I ended up getting the wild-card job where no one knew me at all, I was a random pick of the online applicants. I’m proof it happens teachers so don’t give up!

This whole time I was in a major depression because that’s how I roll. I stopped going to the gym (phewy to the 500 mile challenge, better luck next year) and I actually lost 5 lbs without trying because I didn’t feel like chewing and swallowing anything. I am someone that works hard and plays by the rules and therefor expects the outcomes to also be by the book. I was a victim of the old “when you assume you make an ass out of you and me” and for the first time in a long time I just didn’t want one more person to tell me that I was destined for bigger and better. That God had a plan. I already knew God had a plan but if I heard it one more time I wanted to punch someone in the throat.

I did what a good Italian Catholic girl does and I prayed and prayed to whoever would listen.

I ended up finding bigger and better and am starting next week. Sadly, bigger and better didn’t come with a laptop pro bono so I picked one up today and voila here I am typing my first blog in months on a new laptop with a new job.

Oh, I also got a new car because the one I had been using for the past five years just had fucking ghosts of Christmas past in it. My old fat days, my toting around screaming toddlers escaping their carseats days, my old job driving to four schools a day hoping my dedication would pay off days. In so many ways I have not only turned the page to a new chapter but literally slammed that book closed and put it on the shelf. I couldn’t look at that old Nissan anymore without throwing up in my mouth. Now I have a little red zippy car red as a goddamned cherry. It feels like me. The me now.

And paying my due diligence to what started as a weight loss surgery blog, I’m doing okay. In a perfect world I will still lose my last 5 lbs to no longer be “obese” but really I don’t give a shit anymore about BMI charts or what size the tag says or any of that bull. I’m happy and I’m okay and I feel good in my skin for the first time in a decade. Should I still be eating well and working out, of course. But if this is me at 37 and this is still me in 15 years I’m okay with that. I have much more important things to worry about.

Because bigger and better is out there. And God has a plan.


Wednesday, March 18

Get Lucky

I am writing. It’s been hard, I’m not gonna lie, to stop playing Candy Crush Soda on my phone and drink endless mugs of coffee and actually do something productive. Does this count as productive?

Spring is a rebirth. My body was reborn into what it is now, so this spring I’m hoping to be reborn into a new adventure in my career. There is still some frost, the grass is still nasty, it’s too soon I know, but it’s around the corner. Whatever is waiting to bloom from the ground.  Like something that has been planted there ages ago that is ready to pop up any day now and when it does it’s a surprise flower. As in…Oh, that’s what was planted there! Whatever it is.

In the meanwhile I am experiencing something recently that can only be described using a drug metaphor. No, I do not use recreational drugs, never have. But this has to be what it feels like. Every weekend I have had some big, fun events. A Charity Ball. My Birthday weekend which my family and friends made fabulous. An investigation into iLipo (more on that later). Seeing the green Chicago river for the first time. And then I come home and Monday comes and I feel like I have crashed into the floor. Like my high has come to an end so abruptly that I just can’t function.  
Maybe if I had jumped in I'd be more LUCKY?

St. Patrick’s Day came and went. I wore green and an obnoxious bow on my head and green beads and even taught Irish Dancing the best way an Italian girl can. By showing the kids “Riverdance” videos on YouTube and reminding them to keep their arms strait by their sides and make-believe tap dance steps. That works when you are 5, you really think you are Irish dancing like they are on the video. You are dancing to Celtic music after all, isn’t that what matters? And everyone is LUCKY. That’s the rule. Everyone is LUCKY.

Not so very luckily, I feel like I am behind in everything around here. And yet, I can still find time to go to the gym to log my miles. That I can do, because it’s an escape and even though I know damn well I’m not actually running anywhere it still feels like I am running away. So I guess I’m lucky for that.

My kids are doing great. My husband, amazing. And I am just fine I tell you, fine.

But this long ass winter is finally coming to an end and I’m ready to see that mystery plant come up and bud from the ground. Where are you already? It's time to show your face.

Wednesday, March 4


What can YOU do in two years?
730 days?

Google says you can:
Learn to speak.
Get to know someone well enough to marry.
Get out of a long-term relationship.
Get over an ex.
Become an addict.

I say you can have a new life…

REINVENT yourself.

If you are still reading this blog two years later I thank you. You know the journey has been long and daunting, that there have been ups and downs. That my body has been to hell and back.  But that, with friends like you, I have done things I thought were impossible.

And I am still here. I am still sitting on my couch under my beloved snuggie with my laptop typing away all of my fears, my concerns, my hopes and dreams. I am still counting every calorie and every mile and sometimes when I look in the mirror I think…

Holy fuck, I did it. 

I’m so CLOSE to my goal, and maintenance, but I’m also finally OKAY. Year 3 will not be about giving up and giving in, but about the reality that a few more pounds will mean no longer being “Obese”….7.5 more to be exact. Do I really need a medical report to say that for me to be happy? Maybe, maybe not. And maybe it will take me all year. Or maybe I’ll get there this summer and gain it back in laughter and love on vacation. Either way it’s all good because how I am right here today is  finally after almost 37 years OKAY. I have big boobs and a big butt. I have thick and strong legs….legs that can finally take me where I want to go. And that's not just OKAY but it is AMAZING.

Here is my updated before and after:

CHEERS to another YEAR!

Saturday, February 21

Dog Whistle Willpower

So I have had a discussion with a few people now about willpower and how everyone seems to think I have a ton because I am able to stay under 1000 calories a day.
“Wow, you have great willpower!”
“Ugh, I WISH I had your willpower!”
“How can I get some willpower like you??”

Well, that’s an easy one. You find your nearest accredited bariatric surgeon and you make an appointment for a consultation. You then own up to all of your mistakes and transgressions over the course of your life and your lack of ability to either lose weight on your own, or maintain a healthy weight. You go to a million appointments, hook up a breathing machine in your room, get your anxiety meds refilled, join a gym, and you make sure your insurange is up to par. Oh, and get ready to buy a new wardrobe every three months…cha ching!!

Readers…meet my “willpower” : 

You read my blog, you know I have a band, but maybe you can’t really picture it and there is still a misconception that I have been somehow able to against all odds find the magic water fountain to weight maintenance. There is no magic. I couldn’t do it on my own so I found a way to do it with help. And that’s okay. I also couldn’t straighten my teeth on my own so I used an orthodontist and no one had anything controversial to say about that now did they?

My willpower is less about me being strong all the time and saying no to temptation and more about the “Pavlov’s Dog” effect. C’mon, you know the story. Dog hears the whistle, dog gets a treat. Dog hears the whistle, dog gets a treat. Dog hears the whistle…dog THINKS he’s getting a treat. He is now conditioned to perform a certain way. This study paved the way for many, many advances in classical conditioning and my Lap-band does just that.

You learn VERY QUICKLY, what you can’t eat.
You learn VERY QUICKLY, what will NOT GO DOWN.
I call that bump LOLA's BABY FOOT

And yes, your suspicions are correct, what can’t go down, must come UP.

Please don’t mistake having no choice but to eat less and eat right for having willpower. It is not that at all. It’s is a situation you no longer have control over and you either follow the rules or you look for a place to puke. Capice?

I am real, I have never lied to you. I was embarrassed when I had to cough up two cookies I scarfed down from treat day in the teacher’s lounge but luckily I was outside and luckily there was snow to kick over it and luckily no one was looking. It’s just part of my life.

So if you want to call that me having “willpower” then be my guest. I call it my dog whistle.

It’s still in no way, shape, or form an EASY WAY OUT in WEIGHTLOSS. My dog whistle doesn’t control what I chose with my own bare hands to place in my mouth and (attempt to) swallow. It doesn't make appointments for me to get shots in my belly to keep up my maintenance. It also doesn’t control me getting my fat ass to the gym to pound out 3-4 miles on the dreadmill. I do that myself, and it aint EASY.  But it’s worth it.

So there you go…I have been writing for over two years and I just thought it was time to clear up the story, make some scientific clarifications, and remind everyone why I am here and why I post this blog. People constantly message me privately wanting info and support and I keep that extremely confidential. But this is from me to you, free of charge, to file away in case you ever need it.

God speed.

Sunday, February 15

Love Yo Self

You know how the saying goes. You can’t love someone else until you love yourself first. You may agree or disagree on this but I think what we all can learn from it is that WE are just as important to take care of and nurture as those around us.

It is always funny to me who complains on Facebook about Valentine’s Day being nothing more than a Hallmark Holiday. And it’s not only single, cat ladies.  I’m not saying it is or isn’t a product of marketing, but I will say that in today’s crazy life of working, schlepping kids around, doing this and that, etc., etc., it’s nice to have a day that loving each other is forced down your throat. And my favorite color is red so there’s that.

“But you should show love all the time!! Not just on Valentine’s Day!!” - Anonymous

I do. By giving up my free time to take my kids to their activities. For being on the clock for the kids 24/7 so my husband can work whenever he needs too. For the endless hours of making things for the PTA. But when do I remember to pick up some chocolates, or a gushy card, or just give extra kisses over the same old have-a-good-day-kisses I give every morning?

Yes, we should show love every day, just like we should praise Jesus every day and not just on Easter. Just like we should thank the military every day and not just on the Fourth of July. But that means you are being skeptical of Holidays in general and if that’s the case that’s your choice. But my choice is to deck the halls with all things seasonal and SPOIL my family ROTTEN when the calendar says to.

And I’m finally doing that for myself too. Yesterday I made it to the gym even though it was Valentine’s Day. I spent all of Friday night for my kids and their Holiday Dance. I had plans with my Husband on Saturday night for the big Date. That left me with one last person to show love and that was myself. So I did go to the gym. And then got a new dress and shoes at the mall. Just for ME. By ME.

I am more in love with life every day. This DOES NOT MEAN I am in love with my body…that is an enormous work in progress that might never come to fruition in my lifetime. It took me two years to be a slender size 10 and I am still “OBESE” by the BMI chart, which is a major buzz kill if I ever saw one. But I am in love with how I feel when I wake up. How it feels to breath air after a flight of stairs or a mile on the treadmill. I am in love with being able to order clothes off the Internet and they fit. I am in love with being able to participate in athletic activities with my friends. I am very in love with being able to bend this way and that, to stretch and push and pull and for my body to work with me and not against me.

I have loved my Husband since the 90’s. I have loved my kids since I first felt them in my belly. But now it’s time to finally fall hopelessly in love with myself and that might be the best love story of all.