Wednesday night, we ran to Walmart, and they have a salon at the ones here. Emma desperately needed a haircut, so I took her over while Chip walked around with the other kids. The lady there does an awesome job on my kids' hair, so I always look fo her. After we were done, Aubrie throws this massive fit because she wants a haircut now as well. I figured, since she's four, that like most things, this, too, would pass. No such luck. The next day, Aubrie found a pair of scissors and cut her hair. (Incidentally, these are scissors I've been looking for FOREVER, and have no idea where she found them, but am now pretty sure she's the reason I couldn't find them.....but that's another blog.) I got all the kids ready to go and headed back to Walmart to get her hair
Today was a little different, though. I ventured to Walmart all by myself. I went in search of the dreaded bathing suit. (Dum dum dum!) I hate bathing suit shopping with a passion. I get mad at myself every time I think of going bathing suit shopping for not keeping better tabs on my suit so I wouldn't have to buy another bathing suit EVER. I actually found a few that looked decent, and made the mistake of thinking that trying them on was a good idea. It wasn't. I cannot express to you how pathetic it feels to cry in the dressing room of Walmart. So not only do I look and feel fat, but I also look and feel pathetic as well.
I'm going to be brutally honest here. I'm not happy with myself. I haven't weighed this much, except when I was pregnant. I find it nearly impossible to find time to work out, unless I want to get up really early or stay up super late. That is slowly changing, as it's summer and I have a friend who has a daughter who can watch the kids for me now. But I'm mad at myself for letting myself go for so long. I am not obese by any means, but I'm not healthy, I think, either. I hate not having energy. I hate that none of my clothes fit me anymore, and I hate that I have friends losing weight who give me their "fat" clothes........and they fit. I see friends who have had babies who are at or below their prepregnancy weight and I want to scream. I know that I will never truly be my "prepregnancy" weight. I was 19 when I had Brenna, and 116 lbs when I got pregnant with her. I think it's fair to say that's probably not a realistic or healthy goal for me at this stage of my life. I would settle for 130. So, at least for now, I'm going to concentrate on what I eat, and at least walking three or four times a week. I know I need to do it, I know I need to quit making excuses, and dang it, I need to quit crying in Walmart!