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Okay, I did something yesterday that I haven’t been able to do in a year.

    I put on my “skinny” jeans!

    Well, they weren’t my “skinny/skinny” jeans, just my “skinny” jeans, but after all, life should be a series of small victories.  If you‘re lucky.

    Now, I know all the men out there who subscribe (all four of you, because this is pretty much a ‘women’s’ blog—though I like to think of myself as an equal-opportunity blogger)  are going to quit reading here and go on to something more ‘interesting.’  But you’ll be sorry, believe me.  Because this blog is about two things that men hold near and dear to their hearts (and other places)—sports (if you consider cheerleading a sport) and boobs.   (So that might be three things, if you count each boob separately.)

    As I have gotten older—see previous blogs to guess my age—my knees have become problematic.  The orthopedist blames cheerleading and dance—two activities I participated in for most of my teens and early twenties.  I even cheered in college.  I was a modern dance minor.  So the knees took a pounding.  And even though you‘re getting exercise, which is supposed to be good for you, the abuse you give your knees and hips will be coming back to haunt you.  Kind of like that Joe Thiessman thing on the TV where his bone poked out, but not quite so bad.  (See guys?  I told you this would be sports related.)

    So about ten years ago I had my knee scoped and it was better for awhile, but living in a big house on three levels was aggravating all my joints and I was not able to exercise.  And it’s not that I love to exercise or anything, but I’m someone who has to or gravity will take its toll.  And cutting out exercise worked to a degree, but I still had trouble getting out of bed in the morning and up and down the stairs countless times a day.  So my doctor put me on anti-inflammatories.

    Here’s what he said: “You may notice that one of the side affects is that you get a little puffy.”

   Here’s what happened: I gained weight.  A LOT of weight.  Nearly thirty pounds.  And I didn’t like it.

   So here was my solution:  eat so much Ben and Jerry’s Peach Cobbler ice cream that you forget you‘re fat.  Then wash it down with a Chunky Monkey chaser.

   Here was what actually solved the problem:  I sold the big house and found one where I could live on one level.  Mostly.  I still have to go downstairs to do laundry, but that happens only once a day. Twice on the weekends.

   So, last spring I could start exercising again.  Then, in June, I went off the anti-inflammatories.

   Now, I can wear my skinny jeans. (Next, my skinny/skinny jeans!)

   But I still have boobs.  I went from a small but respectable 32B (I was a petite person—5‘4“, 117 lbs., size 6; so the 32 B was in proportion) to someone with gazongas the size of beach balls.  (Okay, so beach balls is a slight exaggeration.  They‘re more like extra large grapefruit.)  And they will not go away.  And I have to spend $50 on ONE bra to hold up the 34 Ds (becaue I’m actually a 32 DD but they don’t even make those!).  On a person with a petite frame, these things look ridiculous.  Or, even worse, fake.

   Because, trust me—if I had nine thousand dollars?  I would not be spending it on ta-tas.  I’d buy a big ol’ plasma TV so that I could see Tim Gunn up close and personal.  I’m just saying.

  Or Notre Dame football, if you‘re a guy.



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Member Comments

    • 0 votes vote up vote up

      Dee Dee Shaw wrote Oct 6, 2008
    • You can share with me! After nursing 12 babies, mine are now concave. LOL When I lose weight, that is the first thing to go. :( I am happy to be in my skinny, skinny jeans, but not so happy that my ta-tas have gone ta-ta. LOL

      Sharing Hope,
      Dee Dee



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    • 0 votes vote up vote up

      Feathermaye wrote Oct 6, 2008
    • LOL @ the chunky monkey chaser.

      Whew... I think I strained something on that one!



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    • 0 votes vote up vote up

      Cindylouwho1966 wrote Oct 6, 2008
    • I was put on predizone many years ago, and not told anything about weight gain. Those, plus being majorly depressed at the time, helped me shoot up to 210 (I’m 5‘6“.)

      I have a pair of my skinny, not skinny-skinny, jeans sitting on my closet shelf, inspiring me daily.



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    • 0 votes vote up vote up

      Dee Dee Shaw wrote Oct 6, 2008
    • Cindy (Love your Fab name by the way, although I see little Cindylou Who in her nightie everytime I see your posts hehe),
      Isn’t it a bummer that meds can have such crappy side effects? Are off the prednisone now?
      Your cheery posts inspire me. I don’t see signs of depression now! :)
      What inspired me to get off my tush and get rid of it, was watching my mom’s health decline yet again as she gained her weight back (yet again.) It makes me sad to see her struggle, but it is also a flashing warning light for me not to enter.
      Having so many children is a blessing, but it feels more like a curse when someone says, "You look great to have had 12 kids." They probably don't hear it the way I do... but I was determined to look great - with no caveats. LOL
      So, I became an accredited weight loss coach to add to my wellness cosultant title. Nothing like teaching something to hold you accountable. :) It almosts shames me to say I have lost almost 50 lbs - only 4 more to go. It is the inches that really matter to me. Just realizing that I had 50lbs to lose... ugh. But being on the skinny side of that 46lbs - now that feels good.
      Don’t quit - keep being inspired - you’ll get there. Remember - nothing tastes as good as thin feels! :)

      Sharing Hope,

      Dee Dee



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