Category Archives: Life

Daily Joy with a Bestie

It’s no secret that I’m a little bit obsessed with forming the best bestie group ever, and no I’m not a stalker. Rebel Wilson, Melissa McCarthy and Candace Payne still haven’t followed me on Twitter, but I know they feel my love and will one day, make our Quartet of Awesomeness a reality. And again, No, I am not a stalker.

My daily joy came about today while I was doing some online shopping. I’m too dizzy to really stand or drive still, so I’ve had to start shopping from my couch. AND with my US post office box, oh man, my options are unlimited. There are a world of stores for this Canadian girl to explore and conquer. Maybe that’s actually Joy One.

Anyways, I digress…I bought this shirt today. It’s from my bestie Rebel’s clothing line and it’s pretty much the greatest thing ever.

rebel

 

Chubby Girl Hilarious Bestie Gang now has shirts.

What Joyfulness filled your heart today???

A Daily Taste of JOY

Pretty much everyone in the world has heard of Candace Payne and has heard her laugh more times than you can probably even count. You’ve all seen her video, and hopefully all of the follow-up videos and stories that show all the blessings that are coming her way. Just for being HER.

Candace became a little ray of sunshine in a world that, lately, seems to be filled with more darkness and despair. (According to the news anyways). That funny mask, the little snort and the un-containable joy reminded us that joy really is in the simple things. We just need to open our eyes and find them.

I for one fell in love with the Happy Chewbacca. Not because I love Star Wars & laughing & dumb videos, but because I witnessed joy in it’s purest form. It was contagious and it ignited a fire deep within my soul. Anyone that knows me, knows that I’m a pretty happy person, that I love Jesus, that I love laughing and that I, more than anything else in the world, want people to feel loved and accepted. No matter where they’re at, or what they look like, or how bad they’re feeling inside – I want them to have the same joy that Candace felt when she put on that goofy mask.

So – in response to my new best friend Candace’s story,  (Yes, I’ve decided we’re meant to be besties. Along with Melissa McCarthy & Rebel Wilson. Because seriously, how stinking awesome would that be? Chubby, happy and hilarious – we will be epic.) I’m starting my own happy story.

For the next 30 days, I’m going to share a little piece of joy that I’ve found in my world that day. It may be big, it may be tiny, but it will be something that made me stop and appreciate exactly where I was at, at that second.

Hopefully, it will remind you to find the moments in your life that take all the darkness away and just help you feel happiness.

Please feel free to share your joys with all of us as well because frankly, there can never be too much of a joyful thing.

My Daily Joy ….. 

I’ll be the first person to admit that this “joy” will seem pretty lame-o but at 7:00 am, it filled my heart with so much joy that I almost couldn’t contain myself. I went to make school lunches for the 6 and realized that we had no bread. I stood there for a few seconds trying to figure out what random pantry items I could throw in a bag and call lunch, when I remembered. Quiznos4lunch. I went online, ordered them lunch for delivery and then sat myself down on the couch to eat my cup of ice while the little’s ate cereal.

It’s the simple joys people, simple joys.

 

Just say No to Tough-Love

Every day when you go online, you can expect to see a blog post or YouTube video or a status that is hacking on a specific group of people. Fat people, gay people, ugly people, old people, etc. It’s ongoing and constant, and pretty much always guaranteed to be there.

Similarly, you can also expect to find just as many posts and video’s reprimanding the people who wrote them and/or shared those posts followed closely by the encouraging posts that are meant to uplift and encourage the people who have been beaten down. They are everywhere.

Fact is, I’ve written many of them myself, and more often than not, they’ve been about Fat Shaming and/or judging people based on their looks alone and then justifying it with “love”. I’ve talked about Mom’s needing encouragement and not judgement, and about shutting-up without knowing all the information or owning your own crap.  Frankly, I’m tired of writing them. Not because I think they’re dumb posts, but because they even have to be written.

If you don’t like what I look like because I’m fat, don’t look at me. You also don’t need to share or make vulgar or vile videos telling me and everyone else how disgusting and horrible fat people are. And please, for the love of all things, don’t justify those videos and statements by concluding them with: “I only say this because I love you and I want you to live longer”. You can’t share a video filled with ignorant and horrible statements and then say, “excuse the language, but this is how I feel. I love you”.

The second you called me, or shared something by someone calling me fat & disgusting, you lost me.

The reality is, these “fat shaming” crap videos are based SOLELY on what I or the other million overweight people in this world, LOOK LIKE. The videos and rants are 100% inspired by what I look like and NOT who I am. These people don’t know me, they’ve never spoken to me or taken the time to get to know me. They don’t know my history, what I’ve been through and what I’m struggling with. They don’t know if I’m on medications, how many babies I’ve had, how much weight I’ve already lost, or what my personal goals and dreams are even about. They ONLY “know” what I look like. That seems to be the point that everyone misses, these posts & diatribes have nothing to do with how much you love me and/or worry about me, they’re about my appearance.

Am I saying that being overweight is healthier than being a “normal” weight, nope, I’m not saying that. Am I saying that you have no idea what my normal, or anyone else’s is for that matter, Yes, I am. Am I saying that I don’t have room for improvement and could make healthier choices for myself, no I’m not. Am I saying that ignorance veiled as motivation is wrong, I most certainly am.

But what I’m mostly saying is that you don’t need to be a jerk when sharing your opinion. We all have things we need to fix in our lives, in our bodies, in our hearts and in our brains. Sometimes these hurdles are massive and will take every single bit of strength that we possess, and no amount of tough love will push the majority of us over those hurdles. Fact is, they make many of us want to run in the opposite direction of what you’re “selling”.

Will mean words, quotes and Old Testament bible verses make someone less gay? Will beauty tips, jokes and rude memes make your perceived ugly person more beautiful in your eyes? Will stats about diabetes and heart disease, or pictures of people in bikinis and funny nicknames make me want to run to the gym? Will your strong personal opinions and preferences build up the people around you or push them farther into the walls that they’ve built up to protect them from all of the world’s nonsense? Think about those things before you take the time to “love someone better”.

MY weight doesn’t change YOUR quality of life. How someone LOOKS doesn’t change the number of days that you have on this earth. If your neighbour is gay, it doesn’t make YOUR faith in God or church any less personal. I am responsible for every choice that I make, and at some point, I will have to answer for them, whether it’s in a doctor’s office or at the Pearly Gates. But please recognize that those choices are MINE, and that your opinion of me and the rooftops that you scream them off will only affect your “end”, not mine.

We shouldn’t have to write posts to lift each other up because the world has judged us so harshly. Be nice, be kind and be an example. We are adults, not small children and need to remember to honour the differences that make us individuals. Live YOUR life to the best of your ability, and let me worry about the story I’m writing for myself. Send love, good wishes, and happy, healthy thoughts, but please keep the “judge-y love” packages to yourself.

Let love & grace be your witness, cause those are the things I want my life to be about.

Skinny is not a personality trait, it’s just packaging.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Road to Skinny … Or Not.

The beginning of a new year brings about the desire for change. It pushes us to think about what we want that is better than what we currently have. It seems to make our eyes focus on all that is wrong with us, and not necessarily all that’s right. It’s the time of year that people seem to think and/or hope will set off this huge firecracker under their butts and in their minds that will cause them to jump up and change. It’s a fresh start and a new beginning.

For me, the new year forces me to focus on my never-ending trek towards “skinny”.  It’s this thing that follows me everywhere I go. It’s the thing I cannot seem to conquer. It’s quite literally the very large elephant in the room that just won’t die, no matter how hard I try. Or maybe not.

If I were to be totally honest, I don’t think I’ve ever cared enough to really want to change it. I’ve got a couple of months worth of willpower, and about 47 seconds of desire. I’ve got all the knowledge in the world, and an incredible team of people willing to support and help me, but somehow I’m also good with where I’m at. I’ve got a massive desire to shop in any store, and not just the stupid chubby girl shops, but for some reason, I’m okay with not trying all that hard to change.

I’m Fat and Happy, and I don’t think this is how I’m supposed to feel.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to be 6 sizes smaller. I’d like to be able to walk around the block without wanting to die. I like the idea of wearing shorts when it’s hot – no I NEVER wear shorts. I’d like to have more energy. I’d like my knees to not hurt. I’d love to sit outside in the summer and not want to die because I’m SO hot, which is a problem because as you know, I don’t wear shorts and fat people have a whole lotta extra insulation. I’d like to not have people give me the classic fat girl compliment, “You’ve got such a pretty face”, to me. Ever. Again. I’d like to be able to touch my toes, for no other reason to say that I can. I want to just take up less space.

So … where does that leave me? The Happy Fat Girl that want’s to be skinny, but doesn’t really care.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand how I truly feel about this subject, or if I’ll ever fully figure it out but I believe that it’s leading me somewhere. In some weirdo, round-a-bout backwards way, it’s taking me to what I really want and need. I want to be more focused. More centered and just more Me. I’m happy, but I want another level of happy. I want to be overflowing with Joy, so much so that it oozes from me and into the world around me. Skinny won’t accomplish that …. but I can.

2015 is going to be the Year of April. I’m going to write. I’m going to write about anything and everything and just write because I can. I’m going to spend time making my new blog fun and super successful. I’m going to move into a house that is exactly what our family needs. I’m going to fall back into mad love with my husband. I’m going to finally put all of my anxiety’s behind me, and step forward without worry about stupid things that I can not control. I’m going to focus on getting healthy and not care at all about skinny. Maybe a smaller size will follow, but whatever, I don’t care.

I’m excited about what’s to come and even more excited to figure out that my “Road to Skinny” is officially on a detour to somewhere totally different.

This road is officially leading to me.

design

 

 

Expecting Something Different

I know that we’re supposed to forgive and forget, and for the most part I’m able to do that. Well, not so much the forget part, but I am pretty good at forgiving. You hurt me and/or my family, and sincerely ask for forgiveness and you will get it. What you won’t necessarily receive is trust and “forgetfulness”.

Problem is, so many times we expect people to react differently than how they always have. We assume that they are going to see our despair or disappointment and not do that again. But then it happens, again, and we just stand there and take it.

Who’s fault is that? Theirs or ours?

At what point should we stop accepting the same old, same old and demand better? When should we stand up and say, I love you but you can be a real jerk. What day do we look at ourselves in the mirror and decide that enough is enough and just walk away?

So often in life, we begin relationships with people and we fall so deeply in love, or like and life that we spend a lot of time turning the other cheek. We decide that there are so many awesome things about them that we can just accept these little quirks or differences. And usually, that’s okay.

Slurping soup, leaving laundry all over the floor, stealing your shoes, listening to crappy music or loving really dumb movies. Those things are okay … annoying as all get out, but okay. But when their fun is at your expense, or when their needs and desires are ALWAYS put ahead of yours, something is wrong.

Relationships won’t always be equal, but more often than not, they should be. There should be more joy than sorrow, more peace than strife and more team than leader and follower. You shouldn’t have to sit there waiting, and hoping and expecting people to become something different from how they’ve always been. It is possible, but it shouldn’t occur at the expense of you.

I want to say that’s it and that even though this relationship means so much to me, I need to matter too. I want to turn around and run away.

But I can’t.

I don’t want to give up on people. I want to continue to expect more. So instead of walking away, I’m choosing to hang on for hope and change and something better. But from now on, I’m done accepting treatment that is less than anything I deserve.

I will expect, but I will not accept.

Now where are you in this equation? What relationships in your world need to have a playing field levelled out? Fix them. We need each other.

 

Be encouraged Fatty. Bah.

I was just tagged in another one of those, supposed to be inspirational and kind posts written by a skinny person, giving me permission to be okay with being fat.

It’s not too different from the post written by the person working out in the gym that says, I see you and all your fatness working out, and you’re so awesome. Keep it up.

Which is quite similar to the posts telling me not to let my weight get me down, and that I’ve got such a pretty face that my size doesn’t really matter. (I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve been told this one).

Sigh. I hate those posts. I hate those comments. And this is why.

They’re stupid and they shouldn’t need to even be written.

People’s sizes and/or appearance shouldn’t be the fodder for your next “make yourself feel better” post.

Sure, I suppose the thought behind them is to be one of encouragement and acceptance, but that’s not what they’re saying at all. They’re saying … I see you as a fat person, first and foremost. The FIRST thing you saw when you looked at your subject matter was that they were Fat. And that ONE FACTOR alone inspired you to write a whole commentary about them. That is what makes me mad and sad and annoyed. Fat isn’t all that I am.

Yes, you spotted me in a gym, but I’m pretty sure there are lots of other people there too. Do you make comments about the super skinny girl who can do nothing but ride bikes because she doesn’t have a lot of muscle mass. Do you feel inspired to write about the guy that is “normal” sized but just came to the gym for the first time in his life? Probably not because frankly, their “stories” aren’t as obvious and easy to pick out.

Why can’t you just look around the room and think, Wow, there’s a lot of people here today working on getting healthy and then go about your own workout without waxing poetic?

I don’t go to the hairdresser and comment about the lady with the horribly whacked out hair with more grey roots than blonde flowing locks. I’m not all “I see you with the sad and desperate hair coming to the salon with it all hidden in a ball cap. It’s okay, I understand. I’m happy that you’re stepping up to fix that mess”.

I don’t go for a pedicure and then come home and write a post about the lady with the horrible cracked heels, and hairy toes. “I see you and your slovenly feet, all tired and dirty and forlorn. I know how embarrassed you must’ve been to leave your house this morning to come here. But thank-you for being brave enough to come”.

Yes, those things are stupid, but there’s no difference.

Look at me as a person, not as a shape or a colour, but as a person. If, by some miracle I ever get up and go to the gym, don’t look at me as the fat chick. Look at me as one of your peers that is taking the same steps as you.

Period.

 crime

The Lying Jones’s

Perfect Kids. Perfect House. Perfect Jobs. Perfect Life.

These are the things that we all talk about and think about. They’re the things that we foolishly believe are actually attainable. Every day, we struggle along trying to get ourselves closer to that pretty little picture in our head. But newsflash people, it doesn’t exist or it’s too expensive or lonely or boring or on the other side of the world.

Life is just way too short to worry so much about people who don’t even remotely affect your life. The people who truly matter and want to be in my life, love me exactly as I am. Why isn’t that good enough? Perfect is a whole lotta work, and frankly I’m just altogether too tired, too busy and too old to even care anymore.

No more keeping up with the Jones’s and no more pretending like everything is perfect. It’s time to open the blinds, take off the Spanx and let it all hang out. I’m officially drawing a line in the sand and being absolutely, totally okay with me, my life and all that I have.

SO to encourage you to do the same,  I give you this. My list of Imperfections. Probably one of the most honest & “I should probably be more embarrassed” about this than I am lists that I’ve ever written.

1.  My TV is on for probably 14 hours a day. I’m not always actually watching it, but I am listening. I don’t handle quiet well at all, so TV has become my background noise that is someway, somehow keeping me sane. Or wired. I can’t decide.

2. My kitchen is never clean. Ever. Like seriously, NEVER. And for the love of all things holy, do not open my cupboards cause well, the kitchen is glorious compared to the state they’re in. In fact, I haven’t washed my floors in probably 5 years. Thankfully, I have a housekeeper that comes in weekly because if she didn’t, my bathtub and floors would never get washed.

3. I don’t exercise. At all. In fact, the only time that I actually walk somewhere is if I’m going shopping. And in that case, I can walk miles and miles and miles. This may also be contributing to my fatness.

4. My bedroom is a disaster, a full-on, I should probably be grounded kinda mess. My kids rooms get cleaned all the time, because I threaten them with punishments if they aren’t clean. I’ve got no one threatening to take away my phone so my room has become a pile of small piles spread around the entire space. Well, that’s not exactly true – my husbands section is clean, but I’m going to take over his side at some point, and well … he may move into the living room. But he won’t be any better off there.

5. I drive a Lincoln Navigator. It gets washed 2 times a year, assuming Kevin takes it into the car wash. The bolts on the running boards rusted off so they were held on by bungee cords for almost a year, before I just finally had them removed altogether. I backed out of the garage and ripped my fancy power folding and heated mirror off. I repaired it with black electrical tape and with bi-monthly “repairs”, it survived a full year until my Dad fixed it a few months ago. The interior is also really sticky, and I’m not really sure how or why. I think I’m supposed to care more about the state of my fairly expensive vehicle, but I don’t. Not at all, and this may actually be the thing that kills my husband.

6. I own lots of Coach items. I bought them all on Ebay or at Ross in the States. I REFUSE to pay full retail for anything, not because I can’t afford it but because I can buy MORE things if they cost less. I need All. The. Things.

7. I don’t shower enough. I’m blaming that one on Motherhood and the fact that by the time my kids are all settled enough for me to get there, I’ve found 89 other things to do. Dry Shampoo is the bomb.

8. I owe money on my credit cards. I like shopping and buying stupid things. Enough said.

9. I have a Target problem. Not a little one either … it’s like an addiction that calls my name. It’s magical powers and red tagged – end of the aisles displays are too much for me to resist. I probably should get counselling or have my red card taken away.

10. I have no idea how to: start the lawnmower, change the oil, change a tire, make a fire, etc. AND I have no desire to learn. I have a Father and a Husband and sons and my best friends husband Drew so I really don’t need to know. I also have no issues with pulling the “I’m a girl” card to get what I want.

Reality is, I’m not perfect. At all. But I’m happy. Ridiculously happy, madly in love, blessed beyond measure, totally satisfied, content and full of joy. I am incredibly imperfect & all kinds of happy.

And frankly, I’d rather be happy than one of the Jones’s. They’re Liars anyways.

Perfect