An unwelcome guest gets evicted…

Room Service? Nachos in bed? Sign me up!

Room Service? Nachos in bed? Sign me up!


Hello everybody!

I’ve been thinking about writing for about a week and a half now. Unfortunately, not much got done around here during that time. I directly blame this on the presence of a horrible house guest. Yes folks, Fat Tara was in town.

For the past week, or so, I completely reverted to my old ways. There were nachos in bed, boneless wings with a mountain of blue cheese, soda (SODA! I NEVER drink soda, I didn’t even drink it back when I was in the pre-healthy days, WTF?!?), I even hid in the pantry and stuffed marshmallows in my face when the kids weren’t looking  (I really wish I could say that only happened one time). There was almost no exercise, ( I did try to bust out a work out or two in an attempt to break out of the downward spiral, but it was pretty weak and didn’t help) and a lot of lying around on the couch.
It sucked.

The worst part about it was that I felt awful. Not just mentally, feeling bad, because I knew I was thwarting my own progress, but actually, physically felt like crap! The more junk  I ate, the worse I felt and the less interested in working out I became. It was pathetic. All the salt made my ankles swell, so I would get up in the morning and barely be able to limp across the room. I felt exhausted, my back hurt, my legs were starting to ache from not productively using them and my stomach was all screwed up from eating so badly. I tried, half heartedly to stop the madness, which seemed to just make it worse and led to more binge-ing. So I decided to just ride it out for a few days.

Fortunately, I finally woke up Monday morning and before I gave myself a chance to think about I grabbed my greens, then went down to the basement and worked out. 45 min on the elliptical, with the tv on and the intensity cranked up a few notches. When that was done, I felt back in control. So I started cleaning. While the boys were playing in the tub, I cleaned the shower. (Then I cleaned the 352 gallons of water up off of the floor, thank you for that Jack….)

Got the boys out of the tub and had Jack help me with the laundry. He loves to push the wet clothes into the dryer when I pile them on the open door. “PUSH!” he shouts with glee every time he shoves more in there. It’s cute, and mostly helpful. VICTORY!

Jack went in to nap, AJ went outside to play with his friends and I threw the headphones on and went to town. 4 bathrooms scrubbed, the entire top floor dusted (even the spindles on the railings, everything vacuumed, floors mopped, laundry cleaned and put away (there was a break in there for dinner, play time and getting the kids into bed…) and by midnight, I was back!

I also TRACKED my food and DRANK WATER. I swear the lack of water is what leads to 90% of my cravings.

I can’t even begin to tell you how much better I feel today. Yesterday, I worked out TWICE!

I wish I knew why I did this. Why I had this overwhelming compulsion to stuff my face with crap, knowing that it was making me feel so awful. As I’m standing in the kitchen, hiding behind the fridge door, scarfing down the 3rd (or 4th? who knows…) mini cheesecake in a row (btw they really are mini, I use a nilla wafer for the crust, so while it’s bad, it’s not quite as bad as it sounds…) but while I am shoving the food into my mouth, my brain is yelling at me saying, “you are going to be so mad in the am!!!”

It’s not like there was some massive tragedy I was dealing with. On the contrary. We had a great weekend! Anthony got his school work finished at school, (a battle that’s been on going, but that’s another story for another time), we had a really fun Saturday night with friends… Jack appears to have actually met his match in the form of a completely adorable almost 2 year old girl. The moms were ready for anything as we had previously exchanged tales of the shock and awe campaigns our respective toddlers were not only capable of, but seemed to delight in.  When the two of them met, they stared each other down like it was a wild west standoff. I kept waiting for tumbleweed to start blowing through my kitchen. They sized each other up, each realizing that the other was a formidable opponent, and to our shock and delight, they played together like perfect little angels! There was toy sharing, Jack didn’t try to hit anyone with a bat, it was a joy!

So this bender ran it’s course, and , shockingly, I actually feel ok about it. This is the biggest difference from the millions of other times this has happened. I just accepted it. I didn’t beat myself up, I didn’t look at myself as a failure. I just gave it some time, pigged out, then finally got up one morning and did something about it.

I truly believe that you have to be ready for change. You can tell someone 242 times that smoking will kill them. They KNOW it. They don’t want to die. But until they are ready to quit on their own, it won’t work. I was a smoker living with a non smoker (Curtis) who hated it. He wanted me to quit. I tried for his benefit. And got no where. Once I decided I was ready, which happened to be a New Year’s morning after a long night of drinking and chain smoking and I felt like such garbage I decided I was done with that, then I was able to stop for good. (See a theme here?)

My point of all of this? Sh!t happens. We aren’t perfect and if we dwell on our shortcomings and mistakes, we will never be happy with the accomplishments we’ve made, and won’t be able to progress beyond where we are. If you slip up for a meal, a weekend, 10 days, it’s ok. When you are ready, start again. That’s what I’m doing. And what I’ll do next time as well!

Time to sleep! Double daily workout Tara is freaking exhausted.

More soon!



Tara is a stay at home mom to two sons. She is a lover of family, friends, food and laughter. Her life is a roller coaster ride full of hilarity, diapers, exercise and fun.

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1 Response

  1. Mimi says:

    So, I had a week just like yours but I haven’t been able to stop the binge eating yet. I will try the water. Thanks for the pep talk and letting me know I am not alone. Love you, Chubby (not anymore).


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