Fatulous, like fabulous, only bigger

Fatulous. I made up this word on Monday, as we were driving to Boo’s guitar lesson. I’m 65 pounds away from my goal weight. This time last year I was 5 pounds away, as it seems I have been since forever.

A lot of shit can happen in one year. Don’t get me started on all the negative. I never understood why people read Steinbeck, because frankly, I found it depressing, and if I am going to spend my time, I better be getting a happy ending, am I right? Life is full-enough of crap endings, so I won’t dive into my sob story, but just know that the year has blown. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see a year pass as I was last year. And if my life doesn’t get back to normal soon, I may just “sell everything and start over,” so-to-speak.

Back to my new word, tho – fatulous – this is how I feel. I’m WAY overweight, outta shape, and just kind gross if you look at me naked. I’ve never been ashamed of my body until now, and honestly, the fact that I am ashamed makes me cringe. What am I teaching my daughter? I got sick, and things happened, but to have a negative opinion of myself, or to devalue my own self worth because of some flab? What. The. Hell?!?! I had to check myself!

So, I’m making an effort to love me, just the way I am, and to be fatulous! Now, am I making huge changes in my eating? Yes. Back to what it was before I caved and went back to my old southern comfort-food cooking, and the processed foods, and the fast food, and the oh-so-convenient takeouts. Tough. It’s the way I planned on living, back when I was in college, and the way I had lived before this last year.  And it’s how I want my kids living; good choices. It all starts with Mom. It really does. It’s one thing to indulge in occasion, but that was becoming our lifestyle. Oh. Hell. No.

So, my attitude has been checked, and my food choices are in check, and now to tackle exercise. After doing crunches and planks the other day I now understand why priests banish demons by “exercising”them. I am sore all over, hate sugar and steroid pills, and hate laziness.

So, with a renewed sense of purpose and determination, I have set a schedule, and have loosely followed it for the last two weeks. Diva is learning site words. After yesterday failing miserable at teaching her to write the number 3, I got new ink and printed off traceable pages, which she is doing now.

I have just been informed that I will have a house next to Diva when she is grown, and it will be in Paris. Wow. Big dreams for a four year old. That’s what I want. That is what I love.

So, I will get up every day. I will put on clothes that make me feel beautiful, not comfy and ignored. I will love myself beautifully. I will put on makeup, because I am worth it. I deserve to get dolled up everyday for absolutely no reason in particular, other than I want to look pretty for myself. I will eat healthy, prepare healthy food, exercise, and get fit again.  And this love is what I want for my daughter. It is what I want for each and every person on earth. Regardless of what you weigh, or how you look, be fabulous. If you can’t, be fatulous!

Fatulous: the art of loving yourself where you are, while striving to be fabulous.

Peace, bitches!


About me

Ever wonder what it’s like to be a southern hot mess? Join me as I slam through life like a bull in a china shop. It’s better if you just go with it.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *