BethFromVA

Luckily hubby's no pushover either, because I just can't respect that. I dated a guy for 3 1/2 years after first hubby (a friend of ours, actually, where we both felt a POP ZING the first time we met -- when I was 6 months pregnant ), and he was as sweet as the day is long. No real motivation for anything, but treated the baby and I like gold. However, I was testing the waters because of what I had come from and pushed things at times. He never stood up to my crap, and I couldn't respect him for that. Hubby is very kind and loving, but he has had to slap me into place a time or two (figuratively, of course). I can respect that. I need boundaries, and with him, I know when I've gone too far.

Glad you shared. It's really good!

Didn't mean to get heavy, but it's something that somebody in SMS's situation may need to hear. I'm not insinuating that he's physically abusive or may even become so, but one MUST pay attention to the signs. Nothing happens overnight... it's a slow death by papercut. Then before you know it, one day you wake up and wonder how you got to that point. I am very loved now. I know this man would not hurt me, cheat on me, or raise a hand to me. He doesn't even raise his voice when we argue. I am more than thankful for how things turned out, and I've felt love and support for 15 years. Nothing is better.

Okay, figgered it out. It's about an inch above my navel. It's gotta be the big incision, right?

If that happens to me, I probably won't like it -- but then I'll remember how I HATE HATE HATE being fat. That'll get me over it quick.

I LOVE this saying, Donna!!

HEHE, nah, just guys. If you read what I just wrote, you'll see why.

Agreed, Kat. My first husband was also abusive. It started out as things said to undermine me, separating me from friends and family, and accusing me of doing the things HE was doing (fooling around). It then turned to hitting and beatings when I would stand up to him. How DARE I. Problem is, I found my feisty side during that relationship and would not back down even when he was beating me, which he also did while I was pregnant with my daughter. He came home one night when I was 8 months pregnant and accused me of being worthless and not doing anything worthwhile (maybe the house wasn't clean, who knows), and this was while I was dishing up our dinner. I grabbed both plates, said, "This is what I don't do, I don't do dinner anymore," and smashed the food-laden plates on the floor. He picked up a heavy WROUGHT-IRON dinner chair we had and hurled it at me, striking me in the abdomen. The bruise I got was the size of a saucer, and appeared within minutes. Eventually it escalated after her birth to pulling his loaded .38 on me and threatening to kill me, my family, and my friends. At that point I didn't even care anymore. I relished death over the hell I was living, separated from friends and family and with nobody within close proximity to help me AND a new baby. I was in a women's shelter with her when she was three weeks old. I finally was able to scrape together enough money to get out. I call it an act of God, because, honestly, the way the money came together and I was able to leave was more than mere coincidence. It always starts with running you down. It may not escalate to physical abuse, but even emotional abuse takes its toll and should NEVER be tolerated. If he can't support you 100 percent, you don't need his skanky ass. Trust me, you never want to be where Kat or I have been. Granted, the experience made me stronger, but I would never wish it on anybody.

Yeah, but it's just one day, Donna. Enjoy it! As for me, other than my fellow bandsters who were recently banded, I'll be the only one I know of who will lose weight this holiday. Gotta look at that silver lining.

And no plane for him. Make him swim.

WTG Steph!!! WOOT!!

Nah, it's 5:00 somewhere... and your in-laws sound somewhat like mine, except they are the ones with the money, and Mommy Dearest doesn't like me. I took her favorite son, y'know...

Wow, you're kinder'n me, She. Not only would I not let him have the clothes on his back, it's doubtful he'd even leave with his skin!

Wow, SMS, this is the first I've heard about the bf and I'd have to agree!! ANYbody who would say something like that to me would be gelded by now!

Hubby and I ate out a couple years ago for Thanksgiving. All our family live in different states, and that year we didn't go out of town, so we went to a Holiday Inn in town (a converted 1700's farmhouse) for a buffet dinner. It was okay... not the same, obviously. This year we're not doing anything since I am still on liquids.

Get a restraining order. NOW.

I don't fit the regular type -- I look much younger than my age. People usually figure me for my early- to mid-30's, which is fantastic. I wonder if I will look older once I lose. It's worth the trade-off, but I still wonder...

That's a way to look at it! I'll be nearly a year in by then. Hmmm...

She bought 'em for me, so I have them in all their "glory..." :wub: :wub: And I've visited your MySpace page. Don't cut yourself short. You are a very nice-looking guy! I mean, I didn't barf or feel queasy when I looked at your pics. :tt2: Really, you look just fine.

Hear hear! One of the things I was worried about was having a "pre" picture before surgery because I can probably count on one hand how many have been taken of me (willingly) in 16 years. Thankfully when we went to Hawaii in October, some pics were taken of hubby and I at a luau we went to. I didn't buy them, but my friend did (we went with another couple). I hated having it, but realized that I can use it as my "before." Worst of all, I regret that I was fat in my wedding pics.

My surgery was Friday afternoon, but it wasn't until Sunday that I felt like I had been hit by a truck. Saturday wasn't horrible... bad but not horrible. Today I just feel ugh. Don't know if it's something I need to be worried about just yet or if I'm getting better in stages. I don't feel as good today as I did yesterday... and it's not really a pain thing. Just kinda... ugh. AND WELCOME, FROGGI!!

That sounds utterly dreadful!

My mom had once asked me if I had ever worn a thong. I said, "Mom, when you're this fat, a thong is a pair of undies that are three sizes too small."

I dunno, they knocked me flat on my butt this morning. Got up at 9:15 cuz the phone rang, came downstairs, sat here for 45 minutes, went upstairs to watch People's Court in bed, and in 15 minutes I was out... until noon. Ugh. And I'm still not fully awake.

Usually for me it's the opposite. I have a hard time getting in all my water in the winter when it's cold.