Fat girl in a little suit...

Have you ever seen the Chris Farley bit in "Tommy Boy" where he puts on David's Spade's coat and sways around singing "Fat guy in a little coooaaat"?

No?

OK, go here, watch the minute of it, giggle, then come back.

Done? Excellent.

Last night I was out shopping with a friend at one of my favorite plus size stores, Torrid. We were doing our usual giggling, looking at more labels, I was hugging the t-shirt I was determined to buy, and then I saw it…

Black and white stripes.

Halter top.

Keyhole underneath the bra part.

A bikini top.
In one of my favorite plus-size stores.

I stared at it for a second before the urge to put it on came over me. I said something like "holy crap you guys have bikini tops!" and the associate laughed and said they'd been flying off the shelves.
Now, prior to the wedding, I'd read things from The Militant Baker like "I'm Proud of my Size: The Sexy Fatkini" and I'd always been inspired. How could this girl be so comfortable in a bikini? Could I ever be that comfortable in this body of mine? I've mentioned before that I've never been a "little" girl- I've always needed the "women's" or "plus-size" section even when my friends were shopping in Juniors. So I've never 1) felt comfortable with the idea of less swimsuit material, or 2) even had the option of wearing a 2-piece at my size. So on this whole body empowerment kick, I grabbed my size and a pair of swim shorts and carried them around while I perused the racks. I'll tell ya- as a girl learning daily to love her body, it was thrilling to know that I had a 2-piece to try on. Thrilling and weird.

I ran back to the fitting room, threw on the suit, and was amazed. It fit. It didn't look bad on me. I mean,  the fabric isn't my favorite, but we're going for principle here. Me, the girl who used to wear pants a size or 2 too big to "hide" myself (hint: that doesn't work), the girl who used to wish she could die so she wouldn't be made fun of anymore for being fat, the girl who used to think she'd never be "good enough" for someone until she lost weight…

That girl was in a friggin' bikini last night. 

Yes, Howard, yes you can. 

Know what I did? I walked out to the open area (gasp!) and showed my friend (even though there was creepy lady standing out there too), then did a silly (a.k.a. ridiculous) little "happy dance" BECAUSE I WAS IN A FREAKING BIKINI. Then I sent a picture to my husband, because darnit, I looked cute. I did think of the aforementioned Chris Farley bit just because it makes me laugh, and OK I may have hummed it a little. But it was all in good fun. =) 

I didn't end up getting it, because like I said, I wasn't crazy about the fabric. But that was the main reason I didn't get it. Not because I didn't like how it looked on me, or how it fit. But because of the fabric. Mind. Blown.

I'm not sure what's happening here, but it seems appropriate...

Warning: Picture below shows a confident-ish girl wearing a 2-piece. Make sure to hide small children, those easily offended by non-standard body shapes, and yo' wives.

I probably should've cleaned up my boots/jeans first… Whoops. 

Enjoy your victories, big and small. This for me was a momentous victory with all I've ever been through. =)

Well, anyone else have a breakthrough of any variety recently? No matter how small it is, if it's important to you it's important to me! :)

<3
A Redhead (now in bikinis!)

Kreme-y Happiness

No, I didn't suddenly forget how to use my spellcheck. I'm talking about Krispy Kreme.

Hot. Fresh. Melty in your mouth. Glazed in happiness.

Oh baby... That's the stuff...

I'm not sure that there's much that makes me happier than Krispy Kreme donuts. OK, just to be clear, I mean in reference to food; clearly I still love snow, hot chocolate, my husband, puppies, etc... You've all had a Kristpy Kreme donut, right?

Wait, WHAT? Some of you haven't?!?! What the heck are you doing reading my blog right now?! Stop what you're doing, drive to the nearest one (I don't care if it's 8 hours away) and get 8 dozen of these fools. If they're not hot, then stick 'em in the microwave for ~9 seconds and let the melting commence.

We'll wait.
....................................................................................

You good?

We had a god-forsaken coupon that entitled us to 1 free dozen of glazed donuts if we bought another dozen of our choosing. Ummmmmmm you don't have to tell me twice. We made our 40-minute trek, and 2 dozen donuts later, we were on our way home. The hot and fresh glaze-y wonders sat on my lap, mocking me and egging me on: "Eat meeeee, eat meeeee!!!". We ate... some. I'm not going to share how many exactly, because, well, no. I claim privacy this once! ;-)

It did make me think though (which is where this is all going), that we need to be more conscious of what we eat. Yes, we indulged in some Krispy Kreme donuts, but you know what? We don't do that often (read: EVER). I thoroughly enjoyed every drop of glaze that crackled off onto my shirt and thusly ate off (don't judge me).

We all know that mindless eating is a real thing. You know how it goes, you sit down in front of the TV with a bag of chips and a bowl of dip, and next thing you know you have a stomachache and 2 empty bowls. How'd it happen? You were only watching a 30-minute show. But if we take the time to slow down and eat and really appreciate what we're eating, I almost think we'd eat less.

I know I could eat my weight in Krispy Kreme donuts, but that's if I'm inhaling them down and don't stop to enjoy them. Why not take some time to enjoy them? They're freaking delicious! So yes, I had (ahem) a couple, but I truly, madly, deeply (thank you Savage Garden) loved every single gooey bite. If I actually take the time to slow down and enjoy them, I can guarantee I'd get sick of them much sooner than my weight's worth.

So. Enjoy your donuts, or your ice cream, or whatever it is, but take the time to enjoy and savor. Make it an actual treat of a moment instead of a bingeing episode, and I think you'll feel more satisfied than if you just went full-on pig dog on something (as I am prone to do).

How's your New Year treating you so far, friends?? Been going to the gym or anything? I have been, though not as much as I should... I'm trying (especially with the addition of Krispy Kremes in the house ;-) )! 

xo
A Redhead

2014

I was trying to think of a witty title for this post, and I bounced between spoofing Strong Bad....

(I probably would've gone with "The New Year, The New Year, what what The New Year")

Or rephrasing Salt 'N Pepa.

"What a year what a year what a year what a mighty good year"

I'm such a 90's kid, I can't even function.

It's New Year's Eve, friends! How do you feel about your year? Did you forget all of your resolutions from last year? Are you a miracle worker who managed to accomplish any/all of them? Personally, I've held the same resolution every year since college:

Don't make resolutions. 

Boom. Done. I'm pretty awesome at not making resolutions.

They're so stressful! Why do we do this to ourselves?! "I have to lose 50 lbs this year!" "I have to read 20 new books this year!" "I have to travel to 3 different countries!".

You know what? Life happens. And it's not because you set "resolutions" for yourself on December 31st the last year. I love to read, but with wedding planning and house buying, there was no way I could pick up a spare book this year. I don't think I've read for fun in months. I did get to go to 1 country, but it was Mexico which is like America's next door neighbor (no disrespect meant in any way; Te quiero, Mexico).

I didn't lose 50 lbs, but I lost 17 inches. I learned this year that measuring will always and forever be a better way to measure my size.

I also learned this year though, that my size is not indicative of my worth. 

My worth comes from me. It comes from who I am. It comes from me being a good person, loving God, loving other people. My beauty has nothing to do with my pants size (which is a whole other issue: vanity sizing. ridiculous.), and everything to do with my confidence.

So this year, don't set resolutions. You'll feel a lot less stressed. Don't get me wrong, set some goals. But don't feel like a failure if you don't accomplish them in 2014. I have a goal of going to Europe, but it may not happen in 2014. I have goals of paying off all of our debt, and we paid off 2 credit cards this year. It's all about progress. =)

Any goals for your life, friends? Travel? Babies? Money-making schemes? ;) 

<3
A Redhead

BONUS!

Here's the quick rundown of the craziness that was 2013:

+ Dream realized of seeing Five Iron Frenzy. YESSS!!
+ Dream realized of seeing Backstreet Boys live. Don't judge me. They were spectacular.
+ Bought. A. Freaking. House.
+ GOT MARRIED. WOOO!!
+ Got some serious height at a trampoline place for my birthday
+ Went to Mount Vernon for the first time since I was a kid (it was a faboo double date!).
+ Celebrated our first Christmas as husband and wife.
+ Went on a dinner cruise on the Potomac for our anniversary
+ Traveled the lands to upstate New York, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Maryland.
+ Went to 3 weddings in 1 month, including being a bridesmaid in 1.
+ Flew first class for the first time ever (it was just a short ~1 hour long flight to Miami. Totally worth it.)
+ Started dabbling in Filipino cooking
+ Hung out in Mexico for week
+ Swam in underground rivers
+ Hugged a dolphin
+ Was later peed on by said dolphin
+ Paid off 2 credit cards
+ Attended yet another annual pillow fight in DC
+ Flew a kite like a boss on the national mall
+ Saw friends out of state that I don't get to see normally
+ Got into weightlifting and lost 17 inches off this beast.
+ Join Gold's Gym. Oddly enough, love it.
+ Started this blog which has been a weird and amazing adventure so far. =)

2014, you have a lot to live up to.

Pictures don't have to be worth a thousand words

Let's jam for a second.

Mr. Gaffigan* has a point up there. How many of us walk around feeling like we're all that and a bag of chips (mmmm chips…), and we either see a picture of ourselves or see ourselves in the mirror and we're like "Gah! Who IS that?!"? I know I've had those days. Lots, and lots, and lots of those days.

Shoot, I felt that way about some of my wedding pictures. Terrible, right? Greatest day of my life to date, I received tons of compliments and felt like a mermaid princess the day of, and I see certain pictures and my illusion was shattered.

It had absolutely nothing to do with my photographer, but with my own perception of myself.

It makes me wonder which matters more: how I actually look, or how I think I look. Does one matter more than the other? A friend of mine and I were talking about this article, as the author so eloquently states something so many women (and probably men!) can relate to:

"How is it possible that a double chin can overpower the beauty of a mother cuddling her child? How does arm fat distract from the perfect shot of a spontaneous hug? I swear y’all . . . how is it that we can put more value on a TUMMY ROLL than the captivating way you throw yourself into a roar of laughter during a shoot?"

I can't count the amount of pictures that I found adorable because of a friend I was with, and terrible because of my 6,000 chins ruining it. But did my friend see it that way? No, they saw a wonderful memory of 2 goofballs.

Did my family or friends look at any particular wedding picture and think "Geez. Heifer"? Well, hopefully not. My husband couldn't stop smiling, my parents lauded the happiness expressed between 2 weirdos who found each other in this big crazy world, and my friends were all overjoyed for us.

But sadly, we do it to ourselves, and I wonder if it's a type of self-defense mechanism. Maybe if we address what we think other people are thinking about us, it'll get the "awkward turtle" out of the way and we can move on. No? Just me? OK. I know I do it. It's why I used to make fat jokes about myself in college. If I say what I think you're thinking, it makes it OK.

Why can't we just look at a picture for what it is, be it 2 friends, a husband and wife, a friend with a baby, and love it for what it is? Don't sit there and pick apart what you think is wrong with yourself in it. Just love the moment it captured. Love that you have a tangible memory.

Oh, also, if someone catches a picture of you stuffing your gob with a cookie or brownie as it's prone to happen this time of the year, let it happen. Enjoy that darn cookie/brownie/cake pop. Be gentle with yourself. Anyone that's judging you isn't a true friend, and anyone that is a true friend is glad you had a good time.

So, my challenge for you dear friends, is to find a picture of a moment that you don't like of yourself. Look at it again, but look past whatever you think is "wrong" with it. Remember how you felt when it was taken. THAT is the point of a picture. Not to make you feel bad about yourself, but to make you feel good about your life. 

xo
A Redhead

*Note: Jim Gaffigan is a hilarious comedian and author that I love love love. I read his book, and it's as awesome as his stand-up is. Also, Jim (if I may), you should give me a thousand bucks for this unsolicited endorsement. It's just a thought. 

He Likes Big Butts and He Cannot Lie!

Do I have any fellow big booty girls in the audience? Or I suppose big booty brothers? Maybe? Anywho. I've had a rather prodigious posterior for my entire life. I think part of it is that I've always been a fat kid, and part of it is probably genetics. Even when I lost weight in high school, it was still pretty hefty. In fact, I recall walking with a friend of mine and hearing 2 guys behind us talking. "Look at that fat a**", his friend said "where" and the other guy said "the one on the right".

I was, of course, the girl on the right.

It's a moment that's resonated within me for a long time. That happened in probably 2003 while I was a young 16 year old, and 10 years later it's still a moment that occasionally wraps me up in it's insecure and hateful arms.

It didn't help that a year or so later I was in a parking lot with friends, feeling cute in a spaghetti string tank top and jeans, and a complete stranger drove by and yelled "HEY FAT A***!". Frankly, people are just being unoriginal at that point. The same insult? C'mon. Get creative at least.

I can say that now after years of learning to love myself, but at the time they were crippling remarks. So for a long time I was insecure about backside. I still have those moments at times. Ladies, you know what I'm talking about. You try on any skirt or pair of jeans, and you do a quick spin to see how your toosh is looking. It's innate. We can't help it.

Several times I half-apologized to the Bearded Wonder for my bodacious badonkadonk, and you know what? He loves it. He absolutely, unabashedly, unapologetically loves every inch of me, including the oft-most hated part of me.

I'm not saying this to brag or to boast about my sweet husband (though really, I could do that for days). I'm saying this because positive reinforcement makes a BIG deal. I've heard for over a year and a half of nothing but love and positivity for my body. This has been combined with the crazy body positive moment that's been embellished by The Militant Baker, and my efforts at the gym since this past May.

For the first time last week in my entire 27 years, I caught a glimpse of my bum and actually thought "Well hey girrrrl".

Any moment for Howard Wolowitz is a perfect moment. 

You know what? I strutted a little that day. I walked tall. I took a moment to reflect on those rude jerks in high school who tried to bring me down, and I thought "Shove it, stink holes. I look good.".

To top it off? I'm still doing my squats. With every squat I do, I defy the terrible words. I show them that I'm better than their hate, and I love myself more than they could ever make me hate myself. Squat you, bros. Squat you.

So my challenge this week for you. Think of something you don't like (your thighs, hands, eyes, whatever), and make a point of admiring yourself this week. Yes, my husband has been giving me loving words for awhile now. But not all of the self-love came from him; a lot of it came from me and seeing myself differently than before. Every day, make a point to say "Hey girl. I like your calves". Or whatever it is you don't like. You have to think past any horrible crap someone has said, and love the hate out of yourself.

Love your body. It's the only one you get. Diet and exercise are great, but body love is more than that. You have to make a decision to accept yourself as you are. Need someone to love on you? I'm happy to gush over how fabulous you look. Just ask. =)

Have a wonderful week friends.

<3
A Redhead

I CHALLENGE YOU TO A SQUAT!

OK I know I just posted, buuut I found this on Fitocracy and it's inspired me to do it. It's a squat challenge. Make that booty pop! Twerk* what your mama gave you! Shake it like a salt shaker! Other silly motivational sayings!!

Join me? I've got 2 people who've already said they're going to do it. I'll be checking in on you all periodically, so don't think we're not watching.

Pretty sure stalking wouldn't be illegal if they all looked like this...

Now, since I just found it today, we're going to do day 1 Today, Wednesday the 4th. You can do this! Can you imagine how your toosh might look though after 31 days? I mean seriously.

Leave a comment if you wanna join the booty revolution. ;) 

<3
A Redhead

*Note: If you don't know what "twerking" is… bless you. Don't google it, don't look up "Miley Cyrus twerk", don't ask someone to demonstrate. Just live in your bubble, and be thankful you're in a happier place than the rest of us.

The McRib is… Broke. Or maybe just sore.

So Hubbins and I have joined a gym near our house.

I know I know… "It's a waste of money", "you have a free gym at work", "are you actually going to use it?!" blah blah blah. I know.

And I don't care. Neener neener!

Buuuut. 1) We got a stupid good deal on it and paid less than ½ of what we would have if the membership hadn't been through his job. 2) Paying for a year-long gym membership IS motivating, because I don't want to just watch our money disappear. 3) I honestly just hate going in the middle of the day at work.

So anywho. The gym we joined is faaantastic. It's shiny and pretty and has a pool and it brings all the happies to the yard. Or beefcakes to the weight room. Or fatties to the lifting area (like me! =D ).

As a pseudo-segue, have I told you guys how ridiculously skilled I am at hurting myself? No seriously. I managed to dislocate my knee in my sleep. In. My. Sleep. I truly am a master, and I don't even mean to be. That's how good I am.

So anyway, I managed to hurt my rib in quite the mysterious fashion on Saturday night/Sunday morning. I don't know how, I don't know what I did, all I know is I woke up with excruciating pain in my rib in a very localized spot. Then I'd move and it was gone. Then I'd move and it'd come back. In the last few days since, it's generally fine, but it still hurts depending on certain moves.

Naturally, I saw this as an excuse not to go to the gym. But I'm torn, right? I need to go to the gym. In some deep recess of my body, I want to go to the gym. Buuuut Rib. RIB! My little riblet! It's wounded! I can't go hurt it more!

Unfortunately my mom (albeit wonderful) is incredibly unsympathetic with her torn knee and need to walk half-marathons. Thanks for the support, WOMAN. (My mom's my bestie. I love her hard, don't let her convince you otherwise) She was all, "GO TO THE GYM. GO. YOU'RE ALREADY THERE. JUST GO.", and I was all "I CAN BE HERE ANYTIME I WANT! I LIVE A MILE AND A HALF DOWN THE ROAD!". Sadly, moms know best (even when you're old and married) and I went inside.

I skipped on Monday, but after my pseudo argument and fake whining with my mom, I dragged myself and my wounded Ribbie inside the gym. I did the treadmill for a brisk 22-ish minutes and felt pretty good with that. Tonight I'm going to try to go again after I pick up a prescription, and do some leg workouts. Word around the mama is that leg stuff shouldn't hurt Riblet more, but who knows. Mom may be preparing me for my doom and I don't even know.

Wish me luck tonight friends, as Ribbles and I attempt the gym even though I want to whine and lay on the couch drinking chai and staring at our Christmas tree. (Yeah that's up, it's been up since Saturday)

How are you all doing? Meet any new goals lately?? Fall off the wagon? 

Mysteriously hurt your body in the middle of the night?

<3
A Redhead