I’ve had the same excuse to get out of workouts for years: I’m too busy! Initially, I was too busy being a new mommy. Then I was too busy raising a toddler. After that, I was too busy homeschooling my son, and when he began attending public school in 3rd grade, well, I was too busy cleaning house.

Every night, I’d go to bed thinking that tomorrow I’d find time to exercise. And every morning I’d get up intending to work out… just as soon as I cleaned house, did the laundry, blogged a little, and worked on my freelance writing job. But once those things were out of the way it was time to pick my son up from school. Then it was time to help with homework. Then I had to start dinner. Then there were dishes. And then… Wow, bedtime again already? Okay, tomorrow I’ll start working out.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

You may have noticed since I started exercising earlier this month that I haven’t been blogging as much. If you could see through your monitor and mine, you’d also notice that the house — although “clean” in the general sense — isn’t as spotless as it used to be. There’s even a load of laundry piling up near the washer. And, while I’m still doing my freelance work (hey, a girl’s got to pay bills!), I’m pretty much leaving it for the evenings and weekends.

Picking my son up from school? Helping with homework? Making dinner? Dishes? Yes, I still do them — and will probably have to continue doing so until I win the lottery and can afford a nanny, a cook and a maid. (Dream big, I always say.)

In the meantime I’ve made a commitment that everything else has to take a backseat to my morning workout (even on days I don’t feel like it). That felt selfish to me at first — how dare I spend the entire morning not working AND doing something just for myself? — but after a while it began making sense. A lot of sense.

Being overweight is bad for me as well as my family. I’m sick most of the time with conditions that are related to being overweight. My feet and joints hurt from carrying around excess poundage, so I’m not nearly as productive as I could be. I don’t have much energy to play with my son. I hate taking him to the playground because my clothing options are limited to miserably tight jeans or baggy, ugly sweats.

I don’t like meeting new people — even longtime blogging friends — because I am embarrassed about my weight. (There’s nothing worse than being told “you have such a pretty face” and knowing that, because of your weight, that’s the kindest compliment they can think up.)

And don’t even get me started on how it’s affected my sex life.

Then there’s the fact — and it’s indisputable, really — that being overweight increases the risk of diabetes, coronary problems, dementia and arthritis. In short, being fat is life-threatening even when it doesn’t seem life-threatening: not only does it diminish my quality of life, but every day I carry around excess weight means a shorter lifespan, too.

There’s NO bag of chips, slice of pizza, bowl of ice cream, burger or fried what-have-you that’s worth giving up even one day of my life. And, honestly, looking back I can’t say that I’ve eaten anything worth that trade, either.

That’s how I’m looking at things these days: is that pile of laundry more urgent than my improving my health? No. How about the dust on the living room table? Nope, not that either. Do email, reading the news and keeping my blogs contribute more to my health and quality of life than increasing my flexibility, stamina and cardiovascular health? To quote Whitney Houston: Oh hell to the no.

I let myself get fat by putting other things ahead of my fitness. The only way to reverse that? Well, that’s just it: to reverse that by putting ME first.

Did you resolve to lose weight this year? Then you’ll want to be sure to visit this blog over the weekend, when I’ll be launching a contest with a prize that can help you reach your weight loss goal: a one-month supply of Sensa, the stuff I can’t stop raving about.

Don’t want to wait? Then order yours today and use coupon code ROCKETXL to receive 15% off your order (no minimum) along with free ground shipping!

Ordinarily, I’m not a big fan of reality TV. Strike that: ordinarily I absolutely, wholly and truly despise reality TV.

Then along came Ruby, whose show on Style Network I stumbled across while doing some Nyquil-induced channel surfing last week. If you haven’t caught the show, it’s about a woman (named Ruby, not surprisingly) and her quest to slim down from almost 500 pounds.

Ordinarily, that number alone might make some folks tune into the show, some out of a morbid fascination as they wonder how she got to be that size (a question which Ruby, like every woman who gains a significant amount of weight, asks herself), and some in the hope of finding tips and tricks to their own weight loss (which is what first got me hooked).

After a couple of episodes, though, it’s pretty clear there aren’t any magic secrets behind Ruby’s persistent and impressive weight loss — she’s under 400 pounds in just a few months! It’s all about the same thing most of us overweight folks try to avoid: eating less and exercising more. Ruby has a personal trainer, a nutritionist, an obesity specialist and a psychiatrist working with her, and while it’s easy to think that losing weight must be more simple with such a team, the fact is that she encounters the same problems the rest of us do. After all, the experts can’t eat (or not eat) for her. That’s all on her, and she’s doing such an impressive job.

Within just a few episodes, I was hooked not just on the inspiration that Ruby provides but on Ruby herself. Between her Southern drawl and her sunny outlook, she’s the kind of woman that everyone wishes they knew. And she’s got true Southern grit. Then again, taking her weight loss journey public like this pretty much means she’d have to, ya know?

Thanks to Ruby, I’m exercising again… though it’s pretty light right now since I’m suffering from strep throat and other maladies. I’m TiVo’ing every Ruby episode that airs and watching it while walking slowly on my treadmill. Hey, I figure if Ruby can find the gumption to do it, then so can I!

Check your local listings to find the Style Network in your area. In the meantime, don’t miss Ruby’s blog!

Jae’s been doing a weekly Wednesday Weigh In, and I’ve been meaning to participate. Except that might involve actually stepping on a scale, and I’m trying to avoid that.

What’s that, you say? Why would I eschew weighing myself if I’m trying to lose weight? Because I’ve been overly-obsessed with my scale of late and I’m trying to break that pattern.

As I’ve mentioned before, I keep my scale in the kitchen, not the bathroom. The reason’s not as nefarious as it sounds: we simply don’t have a place in our bathroom where I can put the scale without tripping over it. So moving it into the kitchen seemed to make sense at the time. Besides, I figured, if I’d weigh myself before binging on a snack it might actually give me a little more willpower.

And that’s when the problem started.

Every time I thought about snacking I’d step on that scale and groan. Then, instead of foregoing the snack I’d actually eat more: out of frustration, out of disappointment, out of a feeling that I’ll never, ever, ever lose weight so why bother.

A week ago I decided to take a break from daily weighing. It’s kind of like putting myself on a scale diet, I guess you could say. We have a trip to my mom’s house planned for the middle of this month and I’d started really obsessing about my weight. (Translate: freaking out. Big time.) It’s not like we’re going to to be staying at one of those Outer Banks rentals where I’ll need to be seen in a bathing suit or anything. We’re going to my mother’s… but since many of my weight issues started in childhood, perhaps that’s just as bad.

Which is why I decided that until we’re back from that visit I’m just not going to weigh myself. Judging by the fit of my clothes, I’m guessing I’ve neither gained nor lost but I don’t want to know for certain. I don’t want to think about it. I want to trust that my visit with my mother and my enjoyment of our time together has nothing to do with my weight, and to ensure that happens I’m just not thinking about it right now.

But Jae is doing awesome — she’s lost almost 30 pounds since January, so go congratulate her!

Has anyone caught an episode of Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew? I’m not a fan of reality TV or VH1 (I’ve never forgiven them for following in MTV’s footsteps and abandoning music videos), so until recently I hadn’t realized how shady the show really is.

Take, for instance, the list of various celebrities appearing on the show. Notice something? Almost all of them read like a resume for people more interested in rehabbing their careers than their bodies.

(One notable exception is that of Daniel Baldwin — not to be confused with Baldwin locks — whose bio mentions his cocaine addition no less than three times as well as his arrests for an auto accident, driving on suspended license and grand-theft auto.)

Meanwhile, two of the three womens’ bios mention their weights. The men’s? Nope, no mention at all… which is odd because, of all of them, Baldwin was the only one who’d previously tried rehabbing his career with an appearance on Celebrity Fit Club (an effort which apparently failed due to his repeatedly-mentioned cocaine addiction).

All of which gets me to wondering why people watch these shows in the first place. Are they hoping to see how it’s done — how to kick bad habits or lose weight? Or are they tuning in just to enjoy watching other people fail?

Last week when I asked ElectricVenom.com readers to vote, Survivor-style, on which blog I could cut out without disappointing anyone, I was really surprised how many people voted to keep ChubbyMommy.com.

Let’s face it: you don’t participate in comments much and, for whatever reason, many of you who run your own blogs haven’t linked this site. So, yes, traffic is fairly regular around here but most of the time when I post here I feel like I’m blogging into a great, big, empty, sucking void. How else (besides comments and links) should I have known that you liked this site?

Franky, I was furious about that until one commenter at EV pointed out that she didn’t feel the need to link this site because she knew she could get to it from any of my other pages. Now that is something I hadn’t thought about.

Fact is, the internet is built on links and we bloggers look to links and comments for validation that we’re doing something that other people actually enjoy. I look for those things and I’m certain that if you run a blog you look to them, too.

So I’m going to ask you to do something for me — and I’m going to make a promise, no, make that two promises — in return:

1. If you read this blog and run your own blog, please link this site and leave me a comment under this entry to let me know that you have. If yours is a diet, health or fitness site I’ll add you to this site’s blogroll. If your focus is elsewhere, I’ll either add you to one of my other sites’ blogrolls or I’ll make a point to link you at least twice in entries on one of my other sites over the next month.

2. If you’ve been a “lurker” here and haven’t commented, now is the time to reveal yourself. You’ve been reading about my weight struggle, my lack of willpower, my poor self-discipline when it comes to diet and exercise. Don’t you think it’s time you share something about yourself, too? I promise I’ll respond!

Until then, I have to be honest, the sites I’m running which receive more comments and links (which even my newest site, Blogging For The Money, gets more of than this blog does) tend to garner my attention. Who wouldn’t feel that way, after all?

After five years of blogging, I know there can only be one reason this site has yet to inspire readers to link and/or comment here: a lack of engaging content. Short of giving out custom printed calendars or other forms of bling-bribery, I can think of only one way to fix that: by asking YOU to tell me what you would like to read about over the next few weeks.

That’s right, I want your topic and article suggestions. I want to know if you’ve got diet, fitness, exercise and health questions that I can research and answer for you. I want to know what you want to know, if you’re brave enough to leave your ideas in the comment section. Tell me, and I’ll deliver.

But in the meantime, I’m growing rather frustrated feeling like I’m blogging in a vacuum that , if you know what I mean.

Next July, my husband and I will be celebrating our 10th anniversary, and this time, we’re going to do it in style.

We’ve never really been big on exchanging anniversary gifts. For our first anniversary — the paper one — we exchanged Tom Clancy novels. On our second anniversary, the Cotton one, we picked up a 2-pack of “His” and “Her” hand towels at the dime store.

New parents by our third year of marriage, we were both too tired to bother thinking up any way to celebrate the Leather anniversary. Instead, we agreed we’d just celebrate the really big ones: ten, twenty and so on.

So, with our tenth anniversary approaching, I’ve got my heart set on a romantic cruise. Unfortunately, since none of our extended family members are up to watching our son for four days and three nights, we’ll probably wind up on one of those family cruises that offers some kind of kids’ camp while parents get blotto poolside or in one of the ships 24/7 bars.

I can’t remember the last time I wore a bathing suit in public. I sure know that there’s no amount of booze that’ll talk me into wearing one at this point.

But ten months is quite a long time, diet-wise, even if I do want to ultimately lose 35 pounds. That’s less than a pound a week, actually, and that seems like it ought to be quite doable.

So, to hell with my hatred of exercise. I may never like it, but if it’ll help me get into the kind of slinky black bathing suit designed to be seen in — without ever touching water — then I’ll do it.

Starting tomorrow. I swear.

Is it just me or does it seem like to you, too, that every where we look these days there are news stories, advertisements, reports, studies and medical alerts all bearing one message: “You’re too fat! You’re too fat! You’re TOO FAT!” Is it any wonder, then, that anorexia and eating disorders are increasing among the middle-aged?

Fat. Over-weight. Excess BMI. Obesity. We’ve even got a war on it, complete with Congressional funding. How sick is that?

Not long ago I wrote about Shaquille O’Neill’s show in which he attempted to create a ‘boot camp’ for overweight kids. It is, as I explained, a dangerous approach to take with children who are already suffering from low self-esteem. But adults are no less susceptible to these media messages, to this condemnation from outside which so closely mimics our inner-tapes: “You’re too fat! You’re too fat. You’re TOO FAT!”

Surrounded by a never-ending barrage of negativity about our current size, coupled with commercials that equate ordering a hamburger with finally — finally — having things “your way” — is it any wonder so many of us turn to food as the one highlight of our day? The one thing that demands nothing of us, doesn’t discriminate against us, does not compel us to first measure up to some outer standard before delivering that oh-so-sweet gratification?

Now, in addition to being told we need to be careful with whom we make friends, lest we “catch” obesity from them — we’re also told that being thin doesn’t really mean you’re thin. In fact, you may look thin but you’re fat on the inside.

Know why I think we’re fat?

Because there’s an endless barrage of messages telling us that we are. It’s known as failure syndrome in the educational arena: we believe up front that we won’t succeed, so we sabotage ourselves rather than actually try our hardest and still fail.

This week I resolve to stop paying attention to outside messages about my weight, and to focus instead on simply doing what I know is good for me: moving my body for at least a half-hour a day; filling up on fruits, veggies and water; and putting my health ahead of whatever the scale says.

Last night on ElectricVenom.com I wrote about Miss Narfeld, the librarian at my elementary school whose rubber date stamp sounded much like a starting signal to my young ears. Whenever I checked a book out, the ca-chunk of her stamp marked the beginning of the all-too-short period I had to race through the stack of books I’d selected. Eventually, I came to associate that sound with something exciting, something that would bring me great pleasure.

It dawned on me that I still have plenty of scrapbooking stamps and, of course, the always-handy address stamp. But also my big, red “PAID IN FULL” stamp. I love that one, but I never get to use it often enough.

Then it dawned on me: why not use it to mark my calendar with the days that I’ve exercised? I’ve been using a little tick mark on each date, but that’s not nearly as rewarding as seeing a whole week filled with big, fat rubber stamps announcing that I’ve “PAID IN FULL” my calorie deficit for the day.

Because that’s what it is, really, when you’re trying to lose weight: you’ve got a calorie surplus all over your hips, thighs and tummy, and you owe both calorie restriction and exercise on a daily basis to be rid of that flab. Stick with it for a day and mark your day as “PAID IN FULL.” Skip it a day and, well, the bare space on that date is as guilt-inducing as any persistent bill collector.

Dear Self,

You are not going to engage in stress-eating. You are not going to fatigue make you rummage through your son’s snack drawer in search of something with sugar. You are not going to eat that last donut left in the package of snack cakes he bought at the store yesterday.

You are going to bite your tongue if you have to. You are going to sit on your hands if you must. You ARE going to lose a pound this weekend, even if that means running up and down the stairs like a madwoman until you’re too tired to even think about eating.

Got it?

Best wishes,
Your Self