I have a problem. I love to cook. No, I really love to cook. LOVE TO COOK. Everything is from scratch and homemade, partly because I have seven kids and economics demands feeding the masses be done without braking the budget. I bake everyday, make huge meals everyday and that isn't really a problem except the fact I love to eat it as much as I enjoy making it.
Now I just thought you should know that I have done this whole thing before. I lost 127 lbs in seven months and all while I was starting my own baking business. It can be done, this dance with food wherein you go out and have a great time with the coconut cream, you just have to learn how to kiss it goodbye at the end of the evening instead of taking it back to your place for a one night stand. One we all know we'll regret in the morning light.
I had that type of love affair with food before and it was a successful pairing. I danced and whipped and frosted but didn't dare to taste and lick or frolic with the enemy. I just cant seem to get that same mind set. I just cant seem to find that strength. I swear some days I seem like I got this and others I am consumed with consuming.
I have been searching everywhere for answers. Is it that I'm stressed? Not really. Am I bored? Not particularly. I do know that when I dumped the extra pounds before I was soooooo focused. I lost that focus when I became pregnant with my fifth child. The pounds started to slowly creep back up. After she was born I felt a little in control but then became pregnant with my sixth child three months after my fifth was born. Then the weight really piled back on.
After he was born I became pregnant two more times and we lost those pregnancies, something so painful to both of us I don't really think either of us dealt with it well. He worked himself to death and I successfully gained back the pounds I had managed to stave off through the previous children. Then baby number seven and bed rest for 10 months :( My only saving grace during that time was I was so sick with her through out the entire pregnancy I actually lost 17 lbs.
Now here we are, done having babies for sure and my little one is 10 months old. I'm just as fat as when I gave birth to her. No more baby excuses to lean on Im searching for that strength I once had to move my mountain of fat. It really does take strength that moves mountains. Inner strength and perhaps that's what I'm lacking. Where to find it, where to find it?
My whole family is thin. They eat all that I do and not a one of them has gotten a real weight problem. Oh my hubby put on a few pounds after a job change where he isn't as physical but nothing I would even notice if I wasn't the one sleeping next to him. Other than that my circle is a thin one save for one or two friends.
Ive asked for support. Ive asked for the shoulders I think I need this time to really no real avail. Yet I know this is one of those solitary journeys. Each must find their own path and walk it. Sometimes though it would be nice just to have some one trudging along beside me. Even Dorothy had the Lion, the Tinman and the Scarecrow to skip along with on her path to Emerald City. But I wont let it get me down, I'm gonna get there. I just have to learn how to be my own best friend, or at the very least be compassionate enough with myself to hold my own hand on my path to 'Onederland'.
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