Day One: Hot Poker

Today was hard. Really hard. Hot-poker-in-the-eye-would-feel-so-much-better hard. I felt foggy and cranky and all kinds of evil. I felt confused and in a daze and didn't know where to start. I'd have Googled some info but I couldn't think past the raging hunger in my belly and shaky, weak hands. The problem: I waited too long to drink my first juice of the day because I didn't know what to make and hadn't worked out the logistics of how long it'd take a novice to actually get it into the juicer. Mentally, I was prepared for the battle, but I failed to adequately prep myself with knowledge of how it all works before I began.

I would have loved to have just lain in bed all day except for when more juice was required but this is real life and people can't just do that. Except the filthy rich, of course. At one point, I wanted to kick the handyman out using nothing of the manners my Grandma worked so hard to teach me and send the kids off to Mom's like a deadbeat so I could suffer in solitude, silent except for my wailing into the fridge, begging God to please tell me why I had to go through this. This really sucks, but I know why I'm doing it and I also know who's to blame.

Enter: My happy-go-lucky-raw-vegan-youthful-energetic dental hygienist. I love her. Really, I do. She was actually my mental and Twitter cheerleader each of the 5000x's/hr I wanted to throw something that tasted very much like hot, cheesy pizza in my mouth and commence to chew and savor. In three short sessions following my simple, innocent remark on how great she looked, she managed to convince me, or rather I convinced myself, that this was what I needed to do. After all, she was walking proof of the power of the Juice.

I've been what I consider to be fat for at least four years, now, with my weight ballooning following the birth of my second child. I've never, ever been this big in my life and I refuse to claim this body. It's not me, now or ever, and excuse my expression but IDGAF about all that "love & accept yourself the way you are" business. Because I know if I do that, I'll be depressed, unhappy, and unhealthy for the rest of my life. Where's the sense in that? 

I want better for myself and my family. I want to be around to see my husband smile when he finally makes his first million (or any day for that reason), or the kids' look of proud achievement when they graduate from college on the foundation I've given them in our humble little homeschool. I want to laugh with my in-laws and brother and sister, and chit-chat with Mom every single day she's not too busy in retirement or iPad-land to lend me her ear. Plus, I've got so many more books that need reading by my eyes alone.

I have to say I've been narrowing my eyes in a quiet, tiny little rage and a ton of confusion at my mom-friends and mom-strangers alike wondering HTH the post-multiple-baby weight loss managed to evade me despite my stellar eating habits (minus a few rare splurges) and all my efforts to drop it like it's hot. And yes, I mean that both ways.

I've done the lemonade diet, done painful workouts, cut back on and cut out certain things, tried HERBS for goodness' sake!, all of it for naught, at least in terms of actual weight loss. And no, I've never been one for cheating- I don't believe in half-stepping. Short of getting my thyroid checked, this is my one, last Ace in the Hole. So I decided to tough it out and give it a try. Here goes nothin'...

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A Fave "Breakfast" Recipe*:

1/2 Personal watermelon

1 Grapefruit

3 oranges

1/2 bag of red grapes

1 inch of ginger (WARNING: It'sa spicy meata-balla! Start with a half and increase if you like)

*More recipes here.