We’re leaving for Mackinac Island first thing tomorrow (for those of you who don’t know, that’s between Michigan’s upper and lower peninsulas, in the straits of Mackinac) – for once, I’m already packed and ready to go. I’ve got cookies baked for snacks on the trip (and to send to Whit with his mix CD), clothes and swimsuits are ready to go, my camera bag’s stocked . . . I feel more organized than I have in a long, long time. I’m sure I’m forgetting something, but still, go me! There’s free wifi at the hotel, so I may upload pictures and what not (the ones from my digicam, at least), though I doubt I’ll be doing much of anything else as far as online stuff goes. Maybe I’ll write while the girls are sleeping or maybe I’ll play solitaire or something – goodness knows, Jerry’s laptop is going with us.
Today, I have to go to Gymboree to find cute pseudo-dressy outfits for the girls in case we go to a fancy dinner. Tomorrow, on the way up north, we’ll stop at Birch Run or West Branch and get something pseudo fancy for me – dress/skirt or pants? I don’t know which. Here’s hoping I fit into a 16, though I doubt I will. I hate shopping for fat-girl clothes; my self esteem is low enough without looking at clothes that aren’t flattering on anyone and aren’t cut properly for where I curve, despite technically being the right size. Because, you know, fat girls don’t want to look cute too . . . and why are my clothes twice as expensive (at least) as the skinny-girl equivalent of the same thing? Grr, all around. I hate clothes shopping for me – it’s far nicer to live vicariously through my children on that front. They can wear the cute clothes that I would if I were thinner.
Geralyn’s miracle diet is a Medical Weight Loss thing – which is fine, good for her because it’s working. But she’s on phen-phen or something like it to help, and I worry about her for the health risks involved not only in losing that much weight that fast, but also in taking diet drugs that could stop her heart. Which isn’t to say I wouldn’t do it in a second to get down to a size 10 or 12 – if I got smaller than that I wouldn’t look healthy. I know it’s a stupid thing to be competitive over, but I really don’t want her to be thinner than I am, and the working out and eating less aren’t working as fast for me as drugs and the near-starvation diet are for her. I’m way more toned than I’ve been in years (since high school, really), but I’m as fat as ever (well, not as fat as I was when I was pregnant with Morgen. That was an all time high) and I weigh just as much. I feel very, very American when I say (think, write) I want results now not next month. That’s instant gratification with a side of impatience for me, please.
When we get back from the Island, come Monday or Tuesday, it’s time to start looking seriously for a house again. We want to be into our new place before Christmas, hopefully by mid-December. Wish us luck!
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