Note to skinny self: I miss you.

While I have started several drafts, I haven't posted anything in a few days. One of the reasons is that I find I'm battling a Facebook addiction all of a sudden. I hardly paid attention to it for quite a while, only opening my profile when I got an email of a message or comment or something. But a few days ago, I posted some mission pictures and started getting a barage of comments from people from all different times of my life (mostly the missionary part, though). It made me giddy with joy to hear from old friends. My relationships have always meant a great deal to me, as I find it very easy to love the people I've been blessed to have known all these years.

And while that addiction was going on, nothing really new happened in our household. The carpet in the spa that had Husband gagging while steam-cleaning and deodorizing it is still a little ripe, but not to the extent that it was before. I may venture out there and use the exercise equipment again when I get my courage up. And the gumption.

And speaking of exercising (which I haven't, yet) I have lost 6 pounds of the 50 I have to lose. Losing 50 pounds won't quite bring me back to my college weight, but it will bring me down, hopefully, to a level where I can run and not be weary, walk and not faint. Also, I may like looking in the mirror again.

My problem is that I had a superb metabolism before I started having kids. I could eat anything and not gain weight. And I ate! On my mission, where I was biking and walking miles and miles a day, I could eat a great deal. I could, in some situations, give the 19-year-old elders a run for their money (situations involving pizza or Indian food). Elders are legendary eaters, as we all know, so that should impress you.

When I got married and then pregnant, I was the typical skinny little thing whose belly didn't pop out until about 6 months or so. I didn't skimp on eating then, either, because I got so morning sick that eating was the only thing at times that kept me from being sick. When all was said and done with the delivery and the weight came off that was going to come off naturally, I had gained 10 pounds. Then I gained another 10 with the next kid. Then 10 each with each of the kids after that. I had lost all but 10 pounds of the weight right before I found out I was pregnant with Child Six. Of course, it all came back on. Now I've got the weight to lose again.

What weight gain does to a girl's self-image is extraordinary. Guys may put on a few pounds and still feel pretty good about how they look; but we women, who think we must also be perfect in every other aspect of our lives, feel like ugly failures. I can't say I speak for all women, of course. Only 99% of them. I have to admit that when I see some of these young married women have babies and then snap back to their impossibly skinny little selves again, I get a little angry. At whom? I don't know. It's not like I can hate someone just because she's skinny. I guess I get mad at my body for not doing that, as if I should be able to abuse it as I have with bad food and have it stay healthy for my vanity's sake. Up until just about a year ago, I was skinny in my dreams. Now, when I dream, I am my plumper self. I've been my plumper self in reality for about 12 years now. Does that mean I've accepted my body and it's amazing abilities despite my abuse of it? Or am I simply and finally resigned? I don't know. I never finished my psychology degree. (Hee hee. Psychology Degree. I would have been content with that for about five minutes.)

So I'm determined to finally lose the weight and make the necessary lifestyle changes that keep me healthy and keep the weight off. I can't deny my vanity. I was okay-looking back when I was younger. Even with the extra wrinkles I've gained along the way, I want to look in the mirror and not grimace. Also, our bodies really are incredible gifts. I need to take care of that gift to show my gratitude.

Mostly, though, I want to look good in the mirror.

Hey, whatever works.