i'm bloated

I was sitting at my younger daughter's dance class tonight, half reading a magazine, half listening to the conversation between another mom and her mother, who was sitting on a wicker bench beside me. Passed me toddled two adorable cherubs with the sweetest cheeks imaginable. I squinted through the sheer curtain of the studio every now and then trying to catch a glimpse of Miss Ballerina doing her thang. It was then that I caught the horrifying reflection of a very bloated girl who sees herself to be quite a bit more svelte in her own mirror.

I'm fat. I'm not self-pitying. I'm not self-defaming. I'm stating fact. Sad sad fact. When I was in high school I was never skinny, but I was fit. I danced. I twirled batons. I ran. I was active, busy and while not the best eater, a better eater than I am now.

I've just come off a party weekend. There is still a box of chocolates on my counter and spinach dip in my fridge. I feel like if I didn't eat for the next 48 hours, I'd be fine...and I ate dinner 3 hours ago. I wonder where this is all leading me? 200 lbs? 250? What will be my limit? Both of my brothers have had gastric by-pass surgery and a second "revision" because they were able to outsmart a bodily alteration. Our family history of obesity is pretty obvious. So is the history for heart disease and diabetes.

I got on a kick the week before last, almost desperate to find a personal trainer. It came as a result of watching The Biggest Loser. Oh how I wish I could do some version of that show for the slightly-less-than-shockingly-obese. I need a Jillian or a Bob. Here I am two weeks later and I've already discontinued working out, riddled with finding time again.

This would be the time for me to write about how I've got a new plan all together and ready to roll out. Something comprehensive that included diet and exercise changes. Yet as I'm sitting here, I feel unoptimistic. I don't know how my time issues will work out. I can definitely work on eating better...the first step being ridding my house of leftover homemade mac and cheese and ribs.

I'm a rational girl who can think clearly and lucidly about almost any topic. Rarely do my emotions get the better of my decision-making processes. Yet I can't seem to "just do" this. We all have our issues, I guess. I"d like to resolve this one, though. I don't like the reflection of the gal staring back at me in the reflection on the glass. She looked like a girl who is lazy. Someone who doesn't play with her kids. She looked unhappy. I could cast a lot of judgements on her.