Go Home Big

My husband and I like to joke when returning home from a vacation that we aren’t Go Big or Go Home people. We are Go Home BIG people. We fully embrace this phrase because when on vacation we eat and drink ALL the things. Our justification is that it is part of experiencing different regions as well as giving ourselves permission to indulge in old favorites. Nobody wants to count calories in Grand Cayman! First place I’m headed to after I suit up? Swim up bar to order a frozen Chi Chi. Amen and Amen! Bread every day/every meal in Paris? Oui, s’il vous plaît! Same philosophy goes for holidays. I don’t normally allow myself banana pudding – but on Thanksgiving and Christmas? Hell yeah, I’lI have a bowl or two of that creamy yellow banana-y goodness with vanilla wafers that have turned into a cakey softness. It’s okay because holidays and vacations aren’t my every day. My every day is typically filled with exercise and eating healthy because I’ve had to learn how to manage my weight. But I have definitely dealt with the repercussions of when I spill those vacation/holiday habits into my every day.

Going back, for those of you that can go back (LOL), remember the old seesaws from the 70s? The long hot metal rectangle that would burn the back of your thighs in the hot summer sun – but you wanted to climb on anyway? Not this kid. It was actually my biggest nightmare. I hated seesaws for one huge reason (pun intended): I was the fat kid. I knew beyond measure that if I sat on one side there would not be an even match for the other. Realistically, it would take two kids … which I assumed would come with a whole set of jokes at my expense. “We’ll never get down!” or… “She’s going to rocket us into space.” Because let’s face it, kids can be assholes – and growing up I had my share of assholery directed at my appearance.

What I’ve come to realize, however, is that despite hating and avoiding seesaws I’ve actually been riding one most of my life. My ups and downs relate to pounds. There’s vacation eating (up) versus day to day eating (down). There’s my heavy early 20s (up) and my later thinned out 20s (down). I’ve made peace with this ride. Ish.

However, recently I’ve noticed this ‘seesaw’ I’m on has created quite the cringe worthy pattern in me. Whenever I look at my FaceBook memories, I have this internal dialog of reflection that focuses solely on my weight. It looks/sounds something like this:

And that picture at the top? On the beach? I wish I could still fit into that size 6 Ralph Lauren tankini that I worked SOOOO hard to able to wear. (And RL runs small, y’all!) But what an ick factor that I noticed how I felt about my weight before I remembered how awesome our vacation was!
Ick. Ick. Ick. That’s what I do. I attach pounds to every single picture of me.

EVERY. SINGLE. PICTURE.

Does anyone else do this shit to themselves?

I was fortunate enough to be dealt a lot of great genes, but body type was not one of them. I’m not saying I hate my body – I don’t hate it. But it’s taken me a long time to get to that place of not. I also grew up with a twin brother that could eat anything he wanted without consequence. So, while Andy was eating chicken strips made in our Fry Pappy every afternoon, I was eating half an apple … watching him with a cold stare and a slow blink.

Do I think it sucks that I will for the rest of my life deal with weight? Sometimes. Do I enjoy the constant obsession with calories or carbs or fat content? Not really. Does it completely blow my mind that there are people walking this earth that can eat whatever they want and never ever gain? Like – walk into a restaurant, pick up the menu, and think “chicken fried steak sounds good today.” Dear LORD!! You monsters!!!  

However, that’s my cross. I have friends and family that have far bigger crosses to bear than me. Crosses that weigh much more than my cyclical 15 to 20 pound tummy tire. They deal with heartbreak, finances, mental illness, physical illness, grief, loneliness, abuse … to an extent that it would be very difficult to raise them if we were on a seesaw together. So that’s really why I’m okay with my situation.

But it’s a new year … that time where we adjust things. Make goals. Reflect. If I’m at peace with my seesaw then, what is this even about?

It’s the pictures.

Right? I need to fix THAT shit, right? Shift my perspective.
STOP attaching the freaking weight. Appreciate the memory. Focus on the important things.

I know. I know. I know. Noted. Okay. I’ll work on it.

With that then, what I should really truly focus on for 2023, is instead of looking at pictures of myself thinking …

I’ll celebrate them with an Awwww! What a great memory!! Because that’s what’s important.

Yep. That’s my new objective. BUT, if I can’t do that consistently and successfully, then I’ll turn my focus towards an equally important and life changing goal…

I’m going to start parting my hair down the middle.

FYI, I’m ‘down’ in this picture. DAMMIT!!! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! Sorry!

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Frozen Chi Chi Recipe (You’re Welcome!)

• 1 ½ cups frozen pineapple
• 1 ½ cups ice
• 4 ounces (½ cup) vodka
• 2 ounces (¼ cup) cream of coconut
• 4 ounces (½ cup) pineapple juice

Blend pineapple and ice until chunky. Add the remaining ingredients and blend until smooth. Serve garnished with a cocktail cherry, pineapple wedge, or drink umbrella, if desired.

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Animated graphic: https://tenor.com/view/pfsf1968-elephant-back-flip-seesaw-gif-17473218