I wrote a book! A whole book. That I wrote!

When I’m not momming, adulting, working, blogging, Netflixing… I’m writing.

And after all the YEARS of writing, back tracking, trying to be one of those elusive “pantsers” who bust out a novel in the month of November. The sheer amount of sticky notes, index cards, notebooks, napkins, lost and found thumb drives, thousands of words written and deleted, cups of coffee, my questionable Google searches that always end up with explanations along the lines of “I promise I’m not a murderer, I’m writing a book” or “I swear I’m not pregnant, I’m naming a character.”

Through all of that.

I WROTE A BOOK.

Yes. I did title my first draft as “HOLY CRAP! MY FIRST DRAFT ON PAPER!”

I’m a writer!

I actually finished writing my first draft back in August. And since then, it’s been reading and re-reading THOUSANDS of words that I wrote.

And yes, I’ve been shamelessly posting all about it on Facebook. #noshame

Since that moment there have been many, many, many, mixed emotions.

“Crap. Utter crap.”
“Oooo, that’s good.”
“THIS WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY!”
“Whyyyyyy”
“Please, Mom. Don’t ever read this.”
“This is the most magnificent piece of crap I’ve ever seen in my life.”

I go from feeling like all those years of writing Harry Potter Fan Fiction had made this my purpose in life. To wondering why in the hell I actually spent so long doing this.

I guess that’s what happens when you edit your own work.

Yes… lots of edits coming

But before the editing process, a.k.a the process of realizing you suck at grammer, typing, and speaking in general… there is the part where you print.

I’ve known I’ve had a crapton of words written. Believe me. When you hit 86,000 words or 20,000 words, it kind of smacks you in the face.

But when you actually print it out. It’s a whole different story. (Enjoy that pun)

I got paranoid thinking I hit print twice when my printer just kept pumping out page after page.
I took pictures like I’d just rescued a puppy from the animal shelter.
I stroked the pages.
I creepily stroked the pages some more.

But I’m allowed.

Because I wrote a book!

Freaking Frustrating

This losing weight business is so freaking frustrating.

It’s one of the harder things to do in life.

And this is coming from someone who has carried a child…twice… for 9 months.
Someone who wrote a freaking novel
Someone who has MASTERED THE ART OF SUDUKO IN SCHEDULING FORM (ok, that last one is a stretch)

But for real.

The idea of losing weight for me has always been that it’s pretty easy. Realistically, the idea of it is.

Eat less.
Drink more water.
Move more.

Yay! Weight loss!

Eat Less
Yes, it’s easy to eat less. But for fucks sake, it’s fall. Which means PUMPKIN EVERYTHING. I’ll totally admit I’m one of those girls who turn into a pumpkin come September. Because ALL THINGS PUMPKIN. In the last month I have had more than my fair share of pumpkin lattes, pumpkin rolls, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cookies, and pumpkin cupcakes. And we’re barely one month in. Ohmylanta.

The job I have makes it all too easy to have “lunch meetings” with my supervisor and our team. But for cheese and rice, that means “Let’s get out of here, I’m hangry” is a term that’s said a lot. Or $5 on pizza for our weekly meetings? Or hitting up Wendy’s or A&W or Burger King? And of course… Chubby Nicole is all over that. Though, the last time I had actually just eaten the lunch I packed (spinach wrap with turkey, spinach, mushroom, and deliciousness) before she showed up growling “Fooooood, nowwwww.” So I just sat like a creeper while they ate.

Disclaimer part A: No, my boss didn’t actually sound like that (or did she???).
Disclaimer part B: Had she stopped by 10 minutes earlier, that poor little wrap would have been long since forgotten as I plowed through my Baconator. Just sayin

Drink More Water
I love water. Generally drinking more water isn’t a hard thing for me to do. Especially considering the fact that I have about four different water bottles I use for this. But if you remember one of my last posts I have a hugeslight issue with caffeine. As in coffee. As in I drink mostly coffee. Which, back when I wrote that post I was dealing with a pretty nasty headache due to a lack of coffee…so I decided I was going to swear off coffee. Want to know how that is coming along?

About like that. *She says as she fills her BRAND NEW Maruader’s Map 20oz glow-in-the-freaking-dark coffee mug to the brim with fresh coffee*

So, yes. I am drinking more water…but not less coffee. Which means I’m peeing all.the.time. But, hey. I’m at least drinking water right?

And last but not least…

Move More
How bout nah.
How am I supposed to exercise when I’m chasing two kids around, editing a novel, working 45-50 hours a week, and there is a VERY IMPORTANT SERIES I MUST CATCH UP ON NETFLIX?
A.k.a I’ve been using every excuse in the book to just not. Bad Nicole. Bad Nicole. I get it. Now, I’m still doing my bedtime yoga, and feeling pretty accomplished because my hips are not nearly as tight (after four freaking months). But other than that, my activity level is firmly set in the “sedentary” category.
Yep.

Yep.

So, anyways.

I can only imagine what my weigh-in is going to bring on Wednesday. Considering my last weight in was, ohhhh, seven weeks ago.

Can I convince myself that any weight gain is worth it? You know, because it’s PUMPKIN SPICE?????

No?

Ok then. I guess I should probably stop saying “weight loss is freaking frustrating” when in reality it’s “weight loss is freaking frustrating because I wanna eat everything, drink coffee, and do lots of sitting.”

Accurate.

My body – Wednesday Weigh-in

I’ve always been hyper-critical of my body. That goes without saying. I can point out my flaws immediately. I have lovehandles that will probably always be present, I have cellulite and stretchmarks (though, I don’t hate on the stretchmarks much these days), I have back fat and armpit fat, so on and so forth.

I know plenty of women who do this, regardless of size. Hell, I’m willing to bet every woman (and man) does this. And even though I’m losing weight because I’m not happy with my health and my body, I have recently (as in within this last week) started to remind myself of the things that I love about my body-despite my flaws.

I’ve decided if I don’t remind myself of these things, I can easily see myself getting even more critical about my body. Because I’ve been there..and that leaves me with what? Tons of negativity.

Whereas if I remind myself of the things I love, I think it’ll be easier for me to get to that point where there are more things that I love than I don’t like. Opposed to getting to what I think is my “ideal” weight, and still picking out every little thing about myself I don’t like.

So… here we go… I’ll start off small, three things about my body that I love.

My legs – They may be big, but they’re strong and I have pretty killer calves
My broad shoulders – I may not be able to wear a halter top, but I can rock a strapless dress/shirt like nobody’s business!
My height – hide and seek sucks, but I’ll always stand out in a crowd

Sure, the list might not be long…but it’s a start.

Anyways, since it’s Wednesday, I’ll cut to the chase.

My third weigh-in since being back!

Last weigh in: 210.0
This weigh in: 208.3
Lost lost: 1.7 pounds
Total lost from highest: 61.7 pounds

Wooohooo!

Another loss, and I’ll very happily take it!

So, until next time,

Confession

My last post was September 29th. We’re looking at two months here, folks. I know I had promised to write more frequently, to be more consistent. But the last several months have been hard.

Ever since I had had Jordin I didn’t feel like myself. I blamed it partially on the stressful year I’d had. It’s practically impossible to feel like yourself when your life is flying off the tracks. So I ignored it. And ignored it some more.

Then, finally one day I was messaging my best friend over good ol’ Facebook, complaining.

I don’t feel like doing anything.
I just want to curl up in a blanket and watch Netflix all day long (which I did, quite often)
I feel like I’m failing at everything
My stupid boobs won’t work. I HATE pumping, pumping hates me. I CAN’T FEED MY BABY WITHOUT FORMULA?!?!
I don’t even have the motivation to shower
I just spend all day pumping, taking care of the kids, and doing nothing much else.

Just a lot of complaints. A ton of tears. And just generally feeling like crap about everything.

Her response “Have you thought to get checked for Postpartum Depression?”

Light bulb.

It made sense. What else could explain these unfamiliar feelings? I don’t have depression. I’m a pretty happy girl. Overly anxious most days, sure, but never depressed. I had damned good reasons to feel sad, confused, scared, and worried with everything that had been going on. But I have never found myself being actually depressed.

But for months I was crying all the time. Feeling like a failure. Feeling bitter and resentful towards everyone and no one at the same time. I would assure myself that Josh could handle everything with work and home if I just wandered off for a few weeks. I would snap at Josh for the smallest, innocuous, comments.

For example: I had just had a breakdown to Josh about not being able to take a shower that day because Jordin was on a roll. All he said was how about I go take one. “I’ve got Jordin. Go take your phone, listen to music, take a shower.” I flew off the handle. Tears, snot, and shrieking followed about how insensitive he was! I can’t, I have to pump! I don’t have time! Are you saying I smell?! Yada yada yada. Bless his heart, he let me have my mental breakdown. He rubbed my back as I mashed my face into his stomach, sobbing and snotting all over his shirt….calling him every name in the book. Once I calmed down he led me into the bathroom, waved away my apology, and made a pot of coffee for when I got out. God, I love that man.

I had absolutely zero motivation to do anything. I got to the point where I didn’t even want to leave the house, which completely clashed with my desire to just pack up and disappear for a while. Forget the nice weather. Forget it all. I just want to sit in my ugly green chair and do nothing.

So after some long heart to heart discussions, I took some steps to get this figured out.

And in the last month or so, I’ve been doing so much better. I’m not 100%, but I’m no longer logging 7 hours every day on Netflix, eating Ramen and Mac and Cheese and chocolate because I have ZERO motivation to actually get off my butt and cook myself a healthy breakfast and lunch. I’m not sitting around with headaches because I can’t force myself to get up and fill my water bottle.

But I am shaving my legs more than twice a month…because I have the motivation to actually do more than just jump in and out of the shower. AND I am wearing more than just pajamas all day too.

Have you ever spent MONTHS taking off the dirty pajamas, showering, and changing into clean pajamas? I have.

I’ve even started writing again. I just hit 68,000 words last week!

Things were definitely heading into “Who is this homeless chick?” territory.

Don’t get me wrong. I still have those days. A few days ago, for example. I blazed through 7 episodes of Grey’s Anatomy. Didn’t shower. Didn’t change out of my pjs. Just didn’t do anything productive. But the following day I dragged my sorry butt into the shower. SHAVED. Wore real clothes. And I did some writing, played with the kids, and did the dishes…plus an episode or two of Grey’s. Not the most productive day, but infinitely better.

And look at me today. A blog post.

So that’s my confession. Postpartum depression.

Postpartum

It’s no joke. It’s scary to not recognize yourself during the time that you should be enjoying and embracing change. It’s terrifying to wake up one day and not want to move or do anything. And it’s heartbreaking to realize just how many times I had wondered if Josh would ask his sister or a stranger to watch our kids while he was at work…if I decided to just walk down the street and disappear for a few weeks.

I’m not usually one to admit when something to this degree is wrong. I’ll keep it deep deep inside so I don’t inconvenience anyone. But you know what? I’m going to inconvenience the heck out of people. Because I’m feeling better.

Because I’m proud of the fact that I’m inching towards normalcy. I’m proud of the fact that I’m smiling and laughing and joking more than I’m crying and snotting.

And I’m ecstatic over the fact that I’m proud of myself.

So, please bear with me. I’m trying my best to be me, I’m trying my best to take charge of my life again. I won’t blame you at all if you leave this blog and stop reading because “Holy crap, she posted three times last week, and only once this week. SLACKER” because this time around I can’t promise that I’ll be consistent. Because I just don’t know.

What I do know is that this too shall pass.

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Whomp Whomp (Weigh in Wednesday)

Ahhh, weigh in day. I’m just going to get right out there with it.

Last Week: 232.3
Today: 239
Total GAINED:6.7lbs

Whomp whomp

This is kind of why I didn’t want to weigh myself. Dang it.

But to be completely frank, I can’t be too surprised. I’ve upped my water intake quite a bit, and I’ve been doing basic (easy) work outs, and I’ve been watching how much I’m eating and all that. Which should be a good indicator of “you’re gonna lose something.”

But come on, there is no other way to gain nearly 7 pounds in a week unless I’m eating an obscene amount. And even then, I’d have to eat some more. Don’t get me wrong, I gain weight fairly easy. I can look at a plate of nachos and my thighs explode.

But I’ve been doing a pretty good job. Sticking close to my calorie goals, moving and being active. So I’m chalking this up to either water weight or my body going “WHAT THE HECK, NICOLE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME!” My gut enjoys being larger than life. My thighs live to be jiggly and soft. Unfortunately for them, I don’t agree.

While the number definitely bothers me, I can’t put too much stock into it. Knowing all the good-for-me changes I’m making, I can’t be upset about the number. While I’d love to see the scale go down, I actually feel pretty great after the last week or so, excluding this cold that is lingering.

I’ve slept better, I’m not as groggy, I’ve only gotten two headaches this past week (compared to nearly daily) which is all awesome. Which I’ll bet it’s from not sitting around muching all day and being properly hydrated.

Of course I don’t feel 800% better than I usually do. It’s still enough of a change to notice it. And if I feel that much better after a week, then I know my body is responding positively to the change. Fat cells, not so much. Water weight, not so much.

So, I just need to push through. That doesn’t mean I’m going to cut even more calories or exercise all my food away because I’m “desperate” to lose weight. But I’m definitely going to wait this out, sticking with what I’ve been doing the last week, and see where that gets me.

I’m proud of getting back on the wagon, and eating better, and actually moving. I know I’m doing a good job, and I’m not going to let the darned scale get me down. #preach

How many of you have noticed a large gain after a fairly good week?

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