Birthday...pie?

Last week sometime, I was talking to my mother on the phone and we were picking a day to get the whole family together to celebrate my birthday.  As we were planning away, she asked me a question I hadn’t even thought about. 

“Do you want me to make you a cake?”

For as long as I can remember, everyone in my family always get a homemade cake from my mom for their birthday.  We each have our own choice flavor combos of cake and frosting, as well.  My dad is chocolate/chocolate.  So is my sister.  But, I am a yellow cake/chocolate frosting kind of girl.  Oh…and my cake has to be made in a heart shaped pan.  Every single year.  Because I am a brat. 

We would have birthday dinner, followed by a huge piece of cake.  And then maybe I would have another one before bed.  Then, I would have a piece for breakfast.  And take a piece in my lunch to school.  I literally could not think about anything else until it was gone. 

As an adult, I loved this tradition even more.  It was comforting.  And delicious.  I mean it’s birthday cake, right?  No one feels guilty about eating Birthday cake!  Even when I was on a diet, I would ALWAYS allow myself a piece.

But this year I couldn’t have birthday cake.  It wasn’t even a choice for me.  So I told my mother not to even make one.  It was too much of a temptation to even see it there, as I’m absolutely sure I would have risked the potential dumping and had a piece.

So, for the first time since I can remember I wouldn’t have my delicious, heart shaped, chocolate frosted, yellow birthday cake.  And I was sad.  For about 10 seconds.

Until my mom said, “Well…what would you like for dinner?”  and I said the first thing that came into my head. 

“Chicken pie and mashed potatoes.”

I don’t know why I picked that.  Maybe I thought it would be something easy to eat.  Maybe it’s because I haven’t had it in awhile.  Whatever the reason, it ended up being the perfect meal on a cold fall New England day.  I had a satisfying portion and even got a “doggy bag” to take home, which I had for two additional meals in the next few days. 

My mom even made an apple cake (kind of like coffee/spice cake with chunks of apples/nuts/raisins in it...so delish!) for everyone. And by everyone, I mean my father and brother-in-law…who I’m fairly sure wrestled for the leftover cake when I left.  So, I snagged a few bites of that.  And I didn’t miss “my” cake at all.  

So, I thought I would share this with you guys.  Just to show you that, even 8 months post op, I continue to occasionally struggle with food.  I miss some of my favorites, but in the end, I always realize that food is never as important as I think it is.  In fact, when I think about what I’ve gone through to get here…it’s easy to say "no."  

All I have to do is remind myself that nothing will ever taste as good as skinny feels!

It's my birthday and I'll blog if I want to...

29 years ago today….at 7:51pm…I was born.  Right  on my due date.  

TOP-The birth info from my crib at the hospital and the name announcement they added when my parents finally picked a name for me...(they were assured that I was a boy...oops...)
Bottom- My birth announcement in the paper and a picture of me at a few weeks old!

How friggin' cute was I?

At birth, I weighted 9lbs 10.5oz and I was 20 3/4inches long.  My mother will tell you I was a big baby, but an average sized child.  And that my delivery was long….very long.

Birthdays are supposed to be a time to celebrate another year of your life.  To reflect and be proud of what you have accomplished in a short 365 days.  But, since college, I often felt like every milestone during the year (including my birthday) was another time to look at how unhappy I was with myself. 

Sure...I have a fantastic career.  And a house I worked hard to buy on my own.  But at the end of the day, I was always another year older, another several pounds heavier, and at a point where another year had gone where I felt that my life was at a standstill.   I watched my friends zip past me and forward to weddings and babies.  So by this point in my life, I had come to dread my birthday.  Not because I felt older…but because I felt stagnant. 

But this year is different.  This year, I feel like I have made so much positive change in myself…and in my life…that I have finally moved forward.  Closer to where I think that I’m supposed to be.  So, after dreading my birthday for weeks...it inevitably arrived.  And a funny thing happened.  

I felt great.  

No regrets.  No guilt.  I just felt...happy.  For me, this past year was about change and evolution.   Most obviously, my body has changed.  But more importantly to me, so has my mind.  This year I learned some important lessons that I think will make the last year of my twenties, the best time of my life.  

First, and maybe most difficult for me, I’ve learned that, in fact, I am beautiful…and may have been for a lot longer than I believed.  I’ve learned that food, although important, is not and should not be the main focus of my life.  I’ve also learned that, despite my earlier beliefs, exercise will not kill me.  In fact, I actually enjoy it.  I’ve learned that shopping is even MORE fun when you feel comfortable about yourself….inside and out.  And finally, I've learned a lot about my friends and family.  I feel more loved and supported by most of you than I could have ever dreamed.  

This year, I’ve decided that I’m going to embrace my 29^th birthday as a new beginning to what I hope will be the best year of my entire life.  Instead of moping around, I spent my the very first minutes of this "new year" out salsa dancing...for the very first time.  Spinning and twirling on the dance floor with my friends (and some strangers!) was a blast.

At this time last year, I was just beginning the process to see if I even qualified for this surgery.  At that point, I had no idea where I would end up.  Today, I am 118 pounds lighter and feeling the best I have ever felt in my life.   

So here's to birthdays...because, in the end, it's not the years in your life that count....but the life in your years!  And I want to have as much "life in my years" as possible!!!

Good hair day...

I know…my hair again.

You guys know my hair anxiety pretty well by now and have listened to me moan about it for months.  Well, my friends...today you are in luck!  Instead of whining about it, I just wanted to let you know I got a new hair style and I think I’m in love. 

I went to my stylist last week and discussed the situation.  My hair is definitely growing in now and starting to look way better.  With this new thickness at my roots, the ends of my hair were looking (and feeling) extraordinarily thin.  So, since there were no pending weddings in my future, I told him I needed to start over.

And we decided to go short.  

Really short.  

In fact this is the shortest my hair has ever been.  For a while, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it…but now I’ve decided I LOVE it and it is the perfect change I needed for the fall.  

Fun to play with, easy to manage, and hides my “growing in” parts flawlessly!  It’s perfect!

If the shoe fits...

So, if there is one thing that I have learned throughout this whole process it is to not be surprised about the way my body changes.  It’s really just not worth the stress.  But in the past few weeks, I have really started to notice something that is driving me BANANAS. 

My shoes don’t fit. 

Now, don’t get me wrong…I know that I am very lucky that I wear clogs all day to work.  (And sizewise, they are very forgiving)   But, when I do have to wear actual shoes, I like to wear really sassy ones.  Did they sometimes hurt my feet to the point where I can barely walk the next day?  Sure.  But like my mother always told me…”it hurts to be beautiful.”

Well, recently, I’ve headed out for a night on the town, and each time I go to find a pair of shoes from my closet, they are all too big.  I’ve gone from a size 10 to a 9.  I’ve tried sole inserts, padding, and moleskin without any help whatsoever. 

This is just horrible. 

I always thought I looked bad in my clothes.  So, to watch my “fat clothes” disappear was never really a problem for me.  But I just love the shoes in my shoe collection. 

REALLY

REALLY

REALLY love them.

Thoughts of them no longer fitting makes me really sad.  I mean, I am definitely ecstatic about my transformation, but I this was a side effect that I wasn’t prepared for.  But, it is one I must accept…like it or not. 

So, I have decided to embrace my new “skinny feet” by slowly but surely building up my new shoe collection.   But that doesn’t mean I won’t  miss my old shoes…In fact, I plan to keep my size 10,  4 inch, leopard print pumps tucked away in the back if the closet…just in case!

20,000 hits...Q&A!

Just checking in this morning and was so excited to see that the site reached 20,000 hits...

Per usual, I am forever surprised to see the interest on this site just grow and grow!  Without your continued support, I know I would not have had the kind of success I've had so far.....and I remain forever grateful to you guys!

In honor of this momentous occasion (ok, not quite "momentous"....but a girl can dream, right?...) I decided to answer some questions from you....the readers.  Have a burning question you want to ask?  Want an  explanation about something related to my surgery?...weight loss?...personal life?

Go ahead.  Ask me.

I promise that I will answer as honestly as I can and may even turn the answer to your question into an entire blog entry.  And when I publish the book  you could legitimately be famous.  (**KIDDING**)

Thanks again, you guys!  YOU ROCK!!!

-Kristen
xoxo

**leave your questions in the comment section below OR feel free to e-mail them to me with the e-mail subject being "questions"**

Pain in the...gut?

I know I’ve said it many times (knocking on wood each time, I swear) but my recovery has been extremely uncomplicated.  I’m lucky.  But I guess I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

:: sound of shoe hitting floor ::

Monday started out as a great day.  I went to the gym, ate like normal, and got ready for work.  I hopped into my car and headed into Boston, per usual.  But about ½ way there I started having a really horrible abdominal pain.  A stabbing pain right below my sternum, making it hard to even breathe. 

Being the kind of person I am, I tried to shake it off and work, but it was impossible.  I had to leave only 2 hours in.  (And I still feel guilty about it.)

I went home, started to feel a little better, had a snack, and went to bed.  When I woke up, I felt like a million bucks.  I chocked it up to working too hard at the gym and went about my day.  I ate light and stayed on the couch most of the day jst so I wouldn’t stir up anything.  But when I got up to go to get ready for work, this sharp pain came back with a fury.  I tried to blow it off, thinking it would go away on it’s own again, but when I couldn’t even stand up straight in the shower, I knew something was wrong. 

I called out sick from work…again…and went to the ED at my hospital.  Of course, by the time I got there (about 4 hours after the pain had restarted) the pain was diminishing…but I hadn’t eaten in almost 6 hours and I was convinced it was related to food.

In my mind, it could only have been a few things. 

My first thought was that it was my gallbladder.  Gallstones are common after gastric bypass, so it wouldn’t have surprised me if this were the case.  But alas…after an ultrasound, I found out my gallbladder was looking all right and did not need to be removed.  This was a thrill, because gallbladder issues meant surgery in my head and I totally didn’t want to deal with that at all.  (although of course they saw some sort of spot on my liver so I have to have an MRI out patient now….awesome… :: rolls eyes :: )

So, moving on, I also thought it could have been a small hernia.  Although I couldn’t really feel any sort of protrusion where it was hurting, I had worked out that day, and hernias can definitely happen after abdominal surgery.  So, I had a nice abdominal x-ray that ruled that one out.  Fantastic.  Zero for two...

Finally, my last thought was that I could have some sort of gastric ulcer, which can happen at the seams of your pouch after gastric bipass.  To me, what I was feeling didn’t feel as much of the burning type pain that I would expect with an ulcer.  I remembered that when I had my EGD previously, they did say I had a small one...so maybe it had grown.  Heck, I didn’t know.  I was grasping at straws.  But, after an extremely awkward rectal exam, I was told that I was not “bleeding” and it may not be the cause.  Wonderful.

No one seemed to know what the heck was wrong with me.  And since my pain had gone away (I hadn’t eaten in almost 12 hours) they gave me a glass of water and some graham crackers.  When I didn’t die after eating those, they sent me home.  Without any answers.  At 3am.  

Awesome. 

So, long story short, it’s right about the witching hour for this pain to come back.  All I’ve eaten today is a piece of pizza and a fudgesicle.  So far so good, but I’m being cautious.   I need to follow up with my PCP and my bariatric surgeon, but I think will live. 

As a nurse, it’s hard to be on the other side of the bed.  And it’s even harder to be there without answers.  But I am glad it’s nothing emergent and, honestly, I’m just hoping it doesn’t happen again.  :: crosses fingers ::

A day in the life of my pouch...

I’ve been thinking. 

(Dangerous, I know…)

Now that I have been eating more “normally” and actually cooking and plating my own food (for the first time in months!!!) I feel like I have really lost perspective on the bigger picture of what I put in my mouth throughout the day.  

And this scares the crap out of me.  

I don’t have the luxury to lose control of how I eat…and I'm afraid with every bite that I will.  So, since I really had nothing better to do all day, I came up with a little project to give me (and you) an idea of how I’m eating.  I took a “before and after” shot of ANYTHING I put in my mouth.  For 24 hours.  

So here it is…my day...one bite at a time.

I was really honest and didn’t eat anything that isn’t pictured here.  I do have to say, though, that knowing I would be taking these pictures really helped my keep random small snacking (aka “grazing”) non-existent.  It made me think a little more about what I was eating, and looking back today, it makes me see where I could have made better choices.   

This is something I may have to do this more often...just to keep myself in check!

Enjoy!

Breakfast, 9am:
1/2c Fiber One raisin crunch cereal
1/2c skim milk
1/2 small banana




Snack, 11am:
4 pieces cheddar cheese
4 water crackers
5 slices cucumber
1/2 small tomato...diced
(drizzle of salad dressing over vegetables)



Lunch, 1:30pm:
1 small whole wheat wrap
2 small baked chicken tenderloins
1/2c raw spinach
3 small tomato slices
1Tbsp shredded cheddar cheese
1Tbsp light red wine vinaigrette
1 handful baked ruffle chips




Snack, 3pm:
1/4c black and white trail mix

Dinner, 5pm:
1c pasta
1/2 c homemade meat sauce
1 italian sausage, sliced
1/2c steamed baby vegetables
sprinkle of pep. romano cheese

 Snack, 8pm:
1 small macintosh apple, sliced
1Tbsp peanut butter

Fluids throughout the day:
1 bottle Lipton diet green tea (16.9oz)
2 bottles poland spring water (16.9oz)

Welcome!

If you are stopping by because of my mention in the "your blogs" section of boston.com today...WELCOME!!!

I'm so excited (and thankful) for the shout out from them.

Please come back often and feel free to leave comments!  : )

Lookin' for love....

There is something about going out to dinner with a group and sitting next to an empty place setting, that makes you feel really alone.  And last night, that’s exactly what happened to me.

When I was bigger, I never really had a boyfriend.  And I guess I never really expected to.  When people asked me if I was seeing anyone, I would tell them just how hard it was to meet someone while going to an all women’s college.  Or how working in a female dominated profession didn’t really make it any easier. 

It wasn’t like I didn’t try.  Eharmony? Match.com?  oh yes…I sure did.  But after meeting a few bad eggs, I didn't renew my subscription.  

Despite the excuses I gave, deep down inside I felt that my size was what was really holding me back from meeting someone great.  I understood that looks had a lot to do with the process.  Whether right or wrong, I felt being a bigger person made a bad first impression. 

To be honest, more than once I even tried lowering my standards.  Yeah…you can imagine how well that turned out. 

So, I took last year to focus on getting my life and myself together.  And now that I’m more average sized and with the same personality and even better assets, I thought things would be way easier for me.  But alas, I am surprised on how difficult meeting someone remains.  And as I watch my friends get married and have babies, I feel like I’m running out of time.  My birthday is 4 weeks from today…and I will be the ripe old age of 29. 

When people tell me that I’m “quite the catch” and that I’ll “meet someone when I’m not looking”….I totally want to smack them upside the head.  No offense, as I’m sure some of you were already thinking it.  

Honestly, I would like to know when someone in my position ISN’T looking?!?!  I mean seriously.  My radar is ALWAYS on. 

So, my real question is, was it that people never really cared how I looked?  Was it who I was as a person that turned people off?  Or is it that my standards are too high?  Honestly, I don’t know…and if I think about it anymore, I’m going to need a glass of wine.  But what I do know is that as November looms just a few days away, I have to start to comprehend the thought of spending the holiday season as a single person…again. 

So here I am, wearing my cute new dress last night.  Will I meet someone someday?  I sure hope so!  But until then, I'm just a single white female...lookin' for love…and someone to sit next to her at dinner!

10 year high school reunion...

Last weekend I went to my 10 year high school reunion.

Yes, I am that old. 

But as old as it made me feel, I was excited to show off the new me.  I skipped the 5yr reunion because I had put on almost 60 pounds.  I wanted to go, but I was embarrassed of my weight gain.  But now, with a lot of hard work, my weight is now 40-50 pounds less than It was when I was in high school.

So…Bring it on.

Although some of my closest high school friends were unable to attended (I retain the right to refer to you guys as “LAME” until you show yourselves at the 15yr) it was really nice to catch up with some people I haven’t seen in ages and see what everyone has been up to. 

Well…to be honest…I kind of knew what everyone was up to.  Most of us constantly stalk each other on Facebook.  But we exchanged pleasantries and pretended that we didn’t know every little detail that was going on in each other’s lives.  Strange how times have changed…but all in all, it was a really nice event.  And being there really made me think about how different I am now from when I was in high school. 

There are some people who are fat and happy.  But, that was not me at all.  Being fat in high school has to be one of the cruelest punishments one can endure.  Not because I was made fun of or made to feel uncomfortable, but because of the things I missed out on.

In high school, I didn’t have a boyfriend.  Or a prom “date.”  I distinctly remember being MORTIFIED that my prom dress was a size 20.  It was the biggest size they had in the store and it barely fit me.  I went to my prom with a friend because the stress of potentially going alone was unbearable.   I felt like I was lucky to even find someone willing to go with me. 

I remember every birthday wish, every fallen eyelash, every penny found….I would wish to be skinny.  I wanted to wear cute clothes and to not cry in gym class.  I would lay in bed at night and bargain with myself saying “tomorrow, I will start to walk on the treadmill…everyday…and I’ll only eat salad….everyday.”  But by the morning, I would inevitably fall back into my old habits and my weight stayed on.  Or went up. 

Don’t get me wrong, though.  I have really fond memories of high school!  Singing in various choirs…drama….and some GREAT shenanigans with my friends.  (most of them involving my gray 1989 Ford Taurus…jealous much?...)  I just think they may have been a little “fonder” if I hadn’t been embarrassed of how big I was…all the time. 

After talking to people for a little while at reunion, I really started to think about what I had accomplished in the past 10 years.  I realized I’m in a really good place.  I look great.  I feel great.  And I know I have some great times coming to me in the future. 

So when I left the reunion, I felt happy.  It was great to see my friends, and it was great to see how far I had come in my life.  But, despite all that….I still feel old.    

"THE RULES"

For me, today was one of those days where all I did was eat and sit on the sofa. A “mental health day” of sorts. And when I weighed myself, I lost 2 pounds.

Awesome.

But in all seriousness, the amount of food I have been able to eat lately is really starting to scare me. With everything I’ve tasted and tried...athough I definitely feel full sooner...I haven’t had dumping at all. So, at this point in this whole process, I know I can eat anything I want.

This is extremely dangerous.

Without the fear of dumping, I have gone a little rouge with my eating. I still stay away from sugar…mostly…but I have been ordering out at work, going out to eat more in general (most of the time NOT ordering off the children’s menu), and buying "unhealthy" items at the grocery store.

When I go out to eat, sometimes I know I could pick a healthier item off the menu…but I do what I do best. I rationalize ordering what I WANT instead of what I SHOULD have. It is a skill I have mastered that I wish I could use for good instead of evil…but alas.

My saving grace has been that I continue to work out. Hard. Also, my pouch still limits the quantity of food I eat. The amount of food I can eat is definitely less than pre-surg, but in the last few weeks it has totally increased from what it has been. It is a fear I can't even describe. 

So, a few days ago I really started thinking about how and what I've been eating. I have heard stories of people regaining their weight after surgery.  It feels like this is a point in my recovery where I could start to pick up some old habits that could send me down that road. Yikes. So, I've decided to nip these bad habits in the butt before they get out of control.

Thus…”THE RULES” were born.

“THE RULES” are something I made up in order to help me stay on the straight and narrow with my eating. They are limits I have set for myself that I'm not allowed to rationalize away.  And as stupid as it sounds, they have already started to help.

Here’s what I have so far:

1. I will eat breakfast everyday.  And it will be breakfast food...healthy breakfast food.  

2. I will taste a dessert, but never order or eat a whole one.

3. I will never drink more than 2 glasses of wine in one sitting.

4. I will not buy unhealthy food at the grocery store.

5. I will try to make and bring dinner for myself at work.  But, if I do order out...I will make healthy choices  

6. I will take my vitamins.  Everyday.
7. I will not eat ANY halloween candy.  Not even one piece. 

I will add more rules as time goes by, but it is already hard to keep up with these ones

When I make a rule, I’m trying to be realistic. I know that at some point I may break it. But just having them really makes me think about what I'm eating before I put it into my mouth...which helps a lot.  This list will grow and change as I do, but I will always keep it around as a tool to keep me healthy. 

Knowing that I CAN eat whatever I want has empowered me to CHOOSE to eat the right way. I don’t want to go back to an unhealthy lifestyle…and if it takes “ THE RULES” to keep me in line….so be it!

On a funnier note, when I told my mom about my current eating woes and the instillation of “THE RULES” she sent me the link to this video.  Hysterical.  So yes, mom…from now on I will “think before I eat”…

***do you have any “rules” that you use to keep yourself in check? Or do you have any suggestions for my ever growing list? Let me know in the comment section below!

Wedding bells...

My sister and my dad!

Well, we finally had my sister’s wedding and it was just fantastic.


Everyone was beautiful, especially my sister, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.   (especially during the "father daughter dance...I tear up just thinking about it)  It was an awesome wedding and I’m surprised how quickly it went by!

When I went to get my hair put up, I told the lady straight out…this was going to be difficult.  And boy…I wasn’t lying.  The “growing in” parts are still too short to do anything with and the rest of my hair is so fine it wouldn’t even tease! 

Me and my beautiful mom!

My assigned hairdresser didn’t even blink an eye.  She worked her magic and with an extra pair of hands, a pound of hair pins, and what seemed like an entire can of hairspray, she had my hair contorted into a sort of French twist like thing with some pinned curls on top.  She REALLY lacquered it to my head and it looked great the whole night!

The bridesmaids

Our dresses looked awesome and I don’t think anyone could even notice that mine was altered at all!  The color really looked good with my skin tone, which was totally tan because of all my beach visits this summer.  (thanks, Mike!)  I also loved my silver, glittery, 4 inch, peek toe pumps!  (Something I couldn’t have ever even DREAMED of prancing around in before my weight loss!)  Our ensembles were a really good choice and looked phenomenal on all of the bridesmaids. 

The DJ was great and me and Mike danced all night long!   All those calories I spent on the delicious dinner and 1 glass of wine were pretty gone by the end of the night, I'm sure.   (I needed the glass of wine to get through the maid of honor toast…that I had written only the night before!) 

Professional wedding dates...me and Mike!

I caught the bouquet, which gave me hope for a wedding in my future.  But, then I remembered that this is the third time I have caught the bouquet at a wedding.  


Bummer. 


My cousin, Joey, caught the “bruins themed” garter. (my sister and her husband are BIG hockey fans...god bless them…lol)  Needless to say, Joey was not too interested in putting his hands up my dress, so we did a fun dance and he placed it right up on my arm.  I thank Beth now for all those bicep curls and triceps kick-backs, as I’m sure everyone was checking out my “bruins” arm all night long!

All in all it was a fantastic night and really fun wedding.  I can’t believe its over and I couldn’t be happier for my sister and my new brother in law.  I hope they enjoyed their honeymoon in the Bahamas….especially the “couples massage” I bought for them as a wedding present!  

The newlyweds...Congratulations, Jillian and Mike!

Wine tasting....

Hello…my name is Kristen and it has been almost 9 months since my last drink.

Now don’t get me wrong…Alcohol made a swift exit in my life when i decided to have this surgery.  The fear of “dumping”  (which I haven’t really had yet, knock on wood)  kept me far far away from my martinis…and vodka tonics…and tall glasses of shiraz.   I remained painfully sober through birthday parties, weddings, and dinners out.  And didn’t really mind…too much.

But nothing was going to keep me away from a drink while I was at my sister’s wedding. 

The experts tell you to have your first drink at home…just in case it makes you really sick.  And it was difficult for me to find a time where I felt like sitting at home by myself drinking wine and waiting to be sick.  It just didn’t sound very fun at all.

So, a couple of weeks ago, my really good friend, Lindsey, came up for a visit from California.  We sat down and started to chat.  And I did something I hadn’t done in a while. 

I opened a bottle of wine. 

It was a dusty bottle of cabernet sauvignon.  A REALLY good bottle I had received as a housewarming gift when I bought my house about a year ago.  Something I was saving for a really special occasion.  And this night seemed about as good of an "occasion" as any I could think of.  I mean, if I was going to “dump,” I might as well do it on a really good bottle of wine, right?

It also made it a little easier knowing that Lindsey is also a nurse, so I knew that if I got sick, she would understand.  So I poured…we drank…and talked and laughed until the wee hours of the morning.  Besides the fact that the girl who used to drink 4 or 5 martinis and still be sober as a brick, ended up pretty tipsy on a half of a glass of wine, I had no ill effects. 

I was so happy I could have cried that night…well, maybe it was the wine.  But still…it was awesome. 

Rehearsal dinner!

So at my sister’s rehearsal dinner, I downed a couple more glasses, just to be sure.  (Also, to help me ignore all of the delicious italian food that was there! Yum!) 


Bingo…no dumping.  I felt great.  I felt I was totally set for the wedding. 

I’ve decided that I’m going to stick with wine for now in order to avoid the sugars in the juicy sweet drinks and the bubbles in the ones mixed with sodas…and this suits me just fine!  I can have 1 or maybe 2 glasses, but I won’t overdo it because I know there are A LOT of calories in that little glass. 

Regardless of the restrictions I’m giving myself, I’m glad to have alcohol back in my life.  I know it will definitely help me fell a little more “normal” in the social situations a girl in her late 20s is exposed to…it will also help me get back to seriously busting a move on the dance floor! 

Me, my wine,  and my dad!