Esas Piernas

The other day I was working, and I was wearing one of those outfits where you know you look damn good.  It's a black dress, with a flower pattern that accentuates all my best features. So there I am walking around like my shit don't stink, and I catch a conversation about my legs. It was two "men" and I use that term lightly for them. They said in Spanish essentially that my legs resemble fat tree trunks. Out of all of the things in the world to talk to about, these guys decided to talk about my legs in my awesome dress. Not just about my legs, but that they resemble fat tree trunks. Which really what makes a tree trunk fat? Is there like a BMI chart for trees to decide which ones are skinny and which ones are fat?

I could have said something. I could have stopped and told them off, I could have done anything except for what I did which was walk away. I walked away while two grown men, one old enough to be my father, discussed my legs. My legs. These legs that have done me pretty well for the last 28 years.

These legs waitressed 50 hours plus while 9 months pregnant to provide for my unborn baby, because I had no one else.
These legs went to school after working a full day to make something of myself.
These legs attracted the most amazing man in the world, and even helped convince him to marry me.
These legs give my baby girl someplace to lay her head when she wants to cuddle.
These legs have worked countless hours to provide for my family.
These legs held me up for 3 straight weeks, with no food or rest while I watched him die.
These legs got me out of bed even when I didn't want to after he was gone.
These legs run 6-10 miles a week on the treadmill to keep me healthy.
These legs keep me going when I want to give up.
These legs don't give a shit what you have to say about me or my body.
These legs will wear whatever the fuck I want. Short shorts, bathing suits, dresses.

So to the the two douchebags who made me feel like shit about myself (and my legs) for about 5 hours....
You my friends would be fucking lucky to be anywhere near my FAT tree trunk legs. Quite frankly, it's obvious that you have very little mental capacity to talk about anything worth a damn.  So check your damn self, and stay away from me and my INCREDIBLE, IMPRESSIVE, WONDERFUL fat tree trunk legs.

*mic drop

Prince Charming

Maybe it's me being a natural romantic, but I dreamed of Mike since I was a little girl. As a girl, the first story you're introduced to is "Cinderella". Prince Charming saving her from the evil family. As I got older, the qualities of my Prince Charming changed but when I met Mike I knew.

He was the first person in the world to protect me. He loved me, he loved my baby girl, he respected me, he challenged me, he made me laugh, he opened doors, and folded laundry. He was perfect. Now, in addition to being a romantic, I'm also a realist. Mike had many faults, as we all do, but he was perfect for me. I'm not writing this because he's dead now, if he were still alive- I would say the same thing. Our friends and family knew it, we balanced each other out. He was my Prince Charming, saved me from many things- myself included. 

So now that he's gone, one of my biggest fears being a 28 year old widow is this...can you have more than one Prince Charming? Or did the universe give me him for 8 years and that's it? That's all I get? I'm now doomed to die alone with 5 cats??

My only dating experience is Mike, which was a whirlwind, I didn't even know we were dating for the first year. Besides that on my dating resume, I have my high school sweetheart, which was a disaster from the beginning. Not only do I have a lack of experience, when the heck am I gonna find time to date? No man gets to meet Liv until we've been dating for at least a year. The most I'm without her is one night a week, if that, soooo when are the Prince and I gonna rendezvous? 

Second issue, where am I gonna meet said man? A bar? Eh not my style. Online dating? Too many creepers, that I don't wanna expose Liv to. So now we're down to work, the grocery store, and the gym. The chances of me having the balls to walk up to a guy I find attractive, slim to none. 

Ok so now I've met this guy and a whole host of problems come into play. I've been asked out several times since Mike died, I've gone on a couple dates, I've been hit on in bars and such...the minute they hear you have a kid and dead husband, they're outta there. OR they stick around and basically just try in get your pants. 

The overall point to this post? I'm truly starting to believe that you get one shot at happiness, one Prince Charming, one soul mate and when they're gone, they're gone. 

Granted I'm not looking for husband #2, but when you're a single 28 year old- there's this pressure to be in a relationship. To have a boyfriend, even if you have a dead husband. The struggle is real folks.

Patton Oswalt

Patton Oswalt lost his wife around the same time that I lost Mike. He also has a daughter the same age as Olivia. Last week, news broke that he got engaged (congrats!) and of course the world has an opinion about it. Does everyone have an opinion because he's famous and engaged after being a widower for a little over a year? Yeah absolutely. But as a widow myself- everyone has an opinion about your love life when you are a widower. 

Another blogger wrote about Patton Oswalt's internet trolls, and she made some amazing points. Some of my favorite from her article:

"You aren’t entitled to an opinion,” she writes, “You don’t get to comment on the choices of a widower while you sit happily next to your own living spouse. You didn’t have to stand and watch your mundane morning turn into your absolute worst nightmare.”

As Roman so beautifully puts it: “[Widows and widowers] know intimately that the price of love is pain. So if you see a widow or widower overcome that knowledge and choose to open their heart to that pain once again, instead of judging, you should be celebrating their bravery and fortitude. That much courage deserves a freaking parade.”

"And another thing. The person who comes after cannot and will not replace the one we lost. To imply that is insulting to the widow, it’s insulting to the new love and it’s insulting to the love who was lost. Earlier I said that I was happy to see Patton Oswalt’s heart had expanded. I used that word intentionally. I say expanded because thats what widowed hearts do. They expand. One love isn’t moved out to make room for someone new. An addition is built. Just like my love for my daughter was not diminished by the birth of my son, so too, the love widows can have for someone new does not diminish the love of the one lost. The expansion of the heart is part of the grieving process."

I wish I could high five this woman, to say she hits the nail on the head is an understatement. I haven't written in my blog as much as I like recently because I have been using my spare time to try and figure stuff out. 

My best friend is a guy. He didn't know Mike, we met last year, his friend is married to my friend. He came into my life while I was trying to figure out how to be "Lindsay" not "Mike's wife" or "Mike's widow" or  a "single mom" just trying to figure out how to be me.  He makes me laugh, we have fun together,  Liv loves him, my friends like him. We started to experience backlash from my friend, who originally introduced us. 

Long story short- I lost her. She became toxic, she was so angry with me for spending time with someone other than her, and none the less it being a man. She sat across from me and said "How could you celebrate Mike's 1 year death anniversary and have him standing next to you?" "How could you introduce a new man into Liv's life so early after losing her dad?" She made it her goal to do everything possible to make sure him and I didn't spend time together, literally obsessing over when he was at my house and where he slept when he was here.

At the end of the day, I'm 28 years old, I'm single, and it's my business. I have to answer to no one. Just because my husband died, why does it all the sudden give everyone the right to weigh in on when I should start dating (which is funny because him and I aren't dating) or quite simply who I hang out with. Right now, I just want to finish school and focus on Liv and work on rebuilding myself. I understand that our relationship is unconventional, but right now it's what I need.

Then there's the opposite of my friend, the people who think I should be married and pregnant by now. I can count on two hands how many people told me at Mike's FUNERAL, that I would move on and get married again. Yeah, I probably will...but I don't want to hear that at his funeral. When that time comes I'm not going to be replacing Mike. Like Erica Roman says, my heart will expand, I'm not replacing one husband with another.

This New Life

There are days when I love my new life. New friends, new experiences, finishing school, working back in the restaurant, the ability to do what I want when I want, being able to sleep in the middle of the bed, and spend money on stuff without consulting anyone. I can eat out every night if I want, I can go to the gym twice in one day, I can drink Bloody Mary's for breakfast, and flirt with boys. I can travel, come home as late as I want (assuming Liv is taken care of), I can wear short skirts, and chop my hair off (not that I would). I have my whole life ahead of me, and it's exciting and fresh and challenging.

There's other days where I miss the old me. I miss my old life. I miss being a wife. I miss working a million hours, studying at 2 am, feeding a family of 4 from the crockpot, and clipping coupons. I miss the sink being full of dishes, and laundry being backed up for weeks. Most of all I miss him. I miss being able to roll over and hold him, I miss being able to pick up the phone and complain about some crazy event, I miss covering him with a blanket when he falls asleep on the couch, I even miss the snoring.  I miss getting the "Good Morning Beautiful" text in the morning, I miss him complaining, I miss him bitching about my spending, I miss knowing that someone out there has my back no matter what. Not just because I'm his wife, but because he loves me and believes in me. He protected me, he respected me, he loved me.

I miss being the other half to something. That's one of the worst parts of being a widow. Being alone. I've never felt so alone in my entire life. It's me. That's it. No one to have my back, or consult, or call. A solicitor called the other day, he was offering us lower cable prices, my first instinct was to say "I have to talk to my husband and get back to you." Little does he know, there is no husband to talk to. Just me, deciding if I want to switch my cable or not.  Even changing the thermostat is a big deal for me. What do I set it to? When is cool enough outside for me to turn the AC off? Do I open the windows and turn the house fan on?

There's a lot of decisions that Mike made for me. As I made some for him. We were a team. That's what I miss the most today. Being a team. Now it's just me, sitting in a freezing house in the middle of the summer, in the middle of my bed, wishing I had my best friend back.

365 days later

Dear Michael,
365 days ago, I couldn't even walk into our house. I told myself if I could make it a year without you- I could make it. Well I did it. And even without you, it has been an amazing year. The Cubs won the World Series sucka! I've watched Olivia grow into the most amazing 2nd grader, and basically your clone. I watched Moppsie do her thing on the track, bought crap with her at the annual "crap fair", and even got tatted up with her. I've found the greatest sushi restaurant with my mom and eaten at every restaurant in the tristate area with her. I drank my way through Wheeling with Amy and The Grand Mahrajaja. I've watched Kelly and Timmy buy their first home. I've watched our nephew, Michael, wrestle like a boss. I've drank waaaay too many beers with the midget (Sara) and Charlie and Kenneth and Kimberly pretty much everyone. I've visited Rob and the girl TWICE! I tore up West Palm Beach with Jacqui and Mark and I've done a lot of amazing shit in the last year, and even though everyday I think "man I wish Mike was here to see this" I know because of you, I have this life with these badass people. (Even though I'm sure you were up there shaking your head at my nonsense a couple times) Thank you baby, for making me the happiest, proudest wife out there. I love you for eternity, can't wait to see what you bring me in the next year. ❤️

Green Beer

That's morning I woke up and I miss my husband. I miss him every day every minute of every day but for some reason today I woke up and I missed him more than usual. I spent the weekend celebrating St. Patrick's Day with some good friends of mine and acting like a normal 28-year-old woman. For some reason the Monday aftermath has caused me to really miss him.  I feel guilty sometimes realizing how wonderful my life it is without him. I understand that when he was here life was difficult. Mike had health concerns, we had two children, one of which was a rebellious teenager, I was working 45 hours a week, he was working 60 hours a week, I was a full-time nursing student. 

To say it was hard would be an understatement, we were so bogged down by the day to day operations of our lives- that we barely saw each other. However, no matter how shitty it got, how crazy it got, at the end of the day I knew I could come home and lay my head down next to him and feel safe. And because of that it, it didn't matter how much bullshit I had to put up with throughout the day, because with him I could conquer the world. 

When Mike died I didn't know what my life was going to bring. The old me died the day he did. I saw the rest of my life as a sentence. A prison sentence, 60 years hard time without the man you love. I knew I had to go on and be happy for my daughter, be strong for everyone around me, and most importantly for myself. When I did finally start going out and enjoying what the world had to offer, the feeling of guilty was unbelieveable. Who the fuck did I think I was laughing and enjoying myself?? Mike's dead and I'm over here having fun? I think it was the West Palm Beach trip that really put things into perspective for me...I'm 28 fucking years old, I'm pretty, I'm smart, I have chosen a great career path, I deserve to be fucking happy. It's not a prison sentence this life I was given, it's a gift. A gift from Mike for giving me 8 great years together, and teaching me how to survive on my own. If Mike was standing right next to me, he would tell me to have fun and be happy! If this experience with him has taught me anything- it's that life is too short. So my plan is to drink the green beer, have 2 corned beef sandwiches, laugh, have fun, enjoy my amazing friends and most of all be HAPPY!

Florida Weekend

I just came home from the most amazing trip to Florida. My best friend surprised me and booked a trip to West Palm Beach for her and I. It was awesome. She used to live there so she had the inside track on all of the greatest spots to hit up and go to. In addition, one of our other friends was there kicking off her honeymoon so we all got a chance to be together. I love to travel. I love the airport, the people, the different places, different foods. I love it. Mike hated it. I surprised him on his 50th birthday with a trip to Puerto Rico, and he was miserable pretty much the entire time. For me-it's about the journey not the destination. Although for this trip, it was amazing leaving cold Chicago in the middle of February and sitting on a beach. But something changed for me this trip, I got to be me. As time goes on, I'm not Mike's wife anymore, I'm Lindsay. I get to take weekend trips with my friends, and have drinks on the beach when I want. I'm not saying that I wasn't beyond happy being Mike's wife- I was and I always am. What I am saying is that this tragedy has given me a new perspective on who I am. I spent so much time focusing on Mike and the kids, and taking care of everyone and everything- I never got to be me. I was 19 when I got pregnant, by 23 Mike and were living together and I was running a household. There was no time for me to focus on who I am, shit there wasn't time for me to exercise on the daily. I've discovered that I love to travel, I like to visit different weird places, I like to laugh and joke, I like to people watch at restaurants, I'm pretty much down to do whatever/whenever, and I like being me. That's a BFD for me to say, I like being me. For so many fricking years, I felt inadequate, ugly, fat. Even with Mike, my self confidence was in the shitter. I felt like everyone else was better than me because they didn't have an alcoholic abusive father growing up, they weren't overweight, they looked so put together no matter what they wore, they finished college, they didn't have a baby as young as I did. The girls that are now my best friends, are the girls I wished to be friends with and envied in high school. And here's the great part- as much as I love them- they're not better than me. They have their struggles, ups and downs, and problems just like I did. Nobody is fucking perfect, we're all just trying to be happy and live great lives. The more I get out in the world, the more I discover who I am and what I want from life. Mike dying sucked the life out of me, and now I as I rebuild I get to write my own story and life according to me- not according to my struggles.

I love these broads

So There's That...

When I started this blog, it was with the intention of putting some of the millions of thoughts in my head out there. Maybe one day to share with the world, but for now just to get some type of release. Now, I think of things and then I write about them here. Sometimes, I'm at an emotional mess, sometimes I'm just trying to organize whats going on in this crazy blonde head of mine, other times I have a spare moment to just jot some stuff down. Many times I start a post with, "Today was a bad day." or "Today was a shitty day"

Well today, was a good day. I finally have beaten this crazy stomach virus/food poisoning thing that plagued me all week last week. I got back to the gym and killed it. Got some shopping done, and prepared for my upcoming trip to Florida :) 

While I want this blog to be all about Mike, I'm getting to the point where every moment of my life is not plagued by the grief of losing Mike. There's  correlations, but it's not the blanket grey grief that took over my life like before.  I encountered some new people this weekend, and needless to say both couples were straight up fighting. And I would be lying if my first thought wasn't "Thank god I'm single"  There are perks to be a single lady....I go where I want, I do what I want, I spend shit tons of time with Liv and my friends. Now granted, if I got a choice between having Mike here or being single- no brainer...I loved spending time with him. Even if we were just in the same room together, doing different things, my world was a better place. But given the fact the choice of having Mike here is not an option- I like being single. Granted I get lonely sometimes and it would be cool to have someone to hang out with, but I'm enjoying my independence. 

The first weeks of 2017 have been pretty emotional. BUT I feel like I have a plan. Here it is: enjoy fucking life. I have to stop worrying about every fucking thing possible, and just enjoy life. Yeah, it sucks Mike's gone. Big time. But because of him, I have this new incredible life to live. I have a degree to get, a child to raise, and a whole world to experience.  My number one priority is Olivia and Myself. I want to be the best mom, friend, person and overall Lindsay I can be. Maybe one day a man will come along good enough for me to share my time with, but for now....I'm happy being just alone.

Weight Loss Chapter 3

Starting Weight: 256 lbs (AHH!!)

Current Weight: 192 lbs (yes!)

Goal Weight: 150 lbs


Holidays are over, and luckily I didn't gain 9 million pounds. The new running app is helping me enjoy running and shed pounds much easier. I fell off the wagon slightly, but I have been doing pretty good. The more and more I think about it, the more I am considering changing my goal weight. For being 5'7 the normal BMI would be 159 lbs. Quite honestly, I feel good where I am. I might change my goal to 180. I'm still thinking it over in my head, time will tell. The running has helped me shed pounds has also made me lose some boob weight.

My big boobs have defined me, for pretty much my whole adult life. Blonde hair, Blue eyes, Big Boobs. That's me, lol. Now I have a new identity. Non-smoker, goes to the gym, eats well...it's all overwhelming. LOL. I think about what my online dating profile would say before compared to now, and it's like two completely different people. I have my old life, and now this new life.

I posted the picture below, with caption on Instagram, and I've never been more frightened in my life. I've never shown my stomach to anyone. Even Mike, I would turn away when I changed out keep my arms in front of me so he couldn't see. When I was pregnant, I let no one see my tummy or touch it. Now, I'm proud of the work I have accomplished and what I have been through. Literally blood, sweat, and tears to get where I am today. And the fight is nowhere near over.

For now, I think I'm going to continue to just eat well and work out, and worry less about the number on the scale. If I go over the 200 mark, then I will start to worry, but for now I'm just going to enjoy this new body and new life as much as I can.

This picture is for my husband who made me feel beautiful no matter what the scale said.
This picture is for my daughter who gave me my stretch marks and makes want to be a better person everyday.
This picture is for my bestie who went into the gym with me and signed me up when I was too scared.
This picture is for my sister, who sparked my weight loss journey and always supports me when I fall off the wagon.
This picture is for all the boys who told me "you're cool, just too fat for me"
This picture is for the last time I showed my midriff publicly (first grade swimming class) and vowed to never do it again.
This picture is for fitting into a size 8 since FOREVER.
This picture is for the treadmill, kicking my ass 3-4 times a week.
Most of all, this picture is for me. Finally taking care of myself, being smoke free, eating healthy, exercising, and realizing no matter what I look like I'm fucking worth it.#transformationtuesday#60lbsdown #proteingoalsbro #crunchfitness#herbalife #winning

When They Think of Me They Think of You

Let me start this post with the preface of....nothing makes me more proud than to Mrs Mike Rodriguez. It was a title I sought from the moment I met Mike. What I don't like is the title now, being Mike's widow. I don't like people looking at me and thinking "Omg, how sad". I want people to look at me, and say, "Damn, look her kicking ass and taking names."

Even before Mike died, I worked my ass off to get where I am today. I grew up with an alcoholic abusive father, a mentally ill mother who I fought with constantly, I never really fit in with any crowd as a kid. I started working at 14, and was essentially out of the house by 16. By 19, I was a single mother. It wasn't until I met Mike that I really got my shit together. I worked really hard to start a career in Healthcare, that I succeeded in, and worked myself up to a title that required a degree I didn't have. I put together a home and a life and a family with Mike, and really busted ass to make this life work. I'm not one to toot my own horn, and essentially no one really knows what I have been through but I killed it. Not to mention that brief snapshot really doesn't give the whole story, but I'll save that for my autobiography one day :) But I did it. I did it for Liv, I did it for Mike, I did for myself. And I was good at it. I was a great mom, a hard worker, a good student, and a bad ass wife. The day Mike got sick, all of that was ripped away from me. My old life essentially died the day he did.

And all of the sudden I was given this new title of being Mike's widow, not Mike's wife....but his widow. A new life, alone and a single mom again. Sitting here almost 9 months later, I'm not gonna bullshit it's been an adventure. I've made some super new badass friends, I've lost weight, quit smoking, experienced a Cubs World Series win, done things I never would have as his wife (good stuff, not bad), taken trips, made tons of memories with Liv. Then there's the bad times, where I couldn't get out of bed, I didn't want to shower, or get dressed, blamed myself for his death, cried, yelled, broke shit, got hammered. Luckily, the good outweigh the bad, and I pulled through. Although, the thought of becoming a straight up drug addict did seem plausible for a bit (TOTALLY KIDDING)

No big deal....just me killing it at this game of life. 

A while ago, I felt like I had this cloud over my head where people saw me as his widow, and felt sorry for me.  There are so many other things in the world to worry about, not me. There's this country song, "Think of You" And the Chorus legit is my anthem. "We used to be the life of the party. We used to be the ones that they wished they were. But now it's like they don't know how to act. Maybe they're like me and they want us back, It's like there's always an empty space. Those memories that nobody can erase. Of how bright we burned. Well now it hurts, but it's true. When they think of me, they think of you"  I just felt that people saw me as half of the power couple, and couldn't imagine me without him. Fuck, for a time I couldn't imagine me with without him.

So I started fighting so hard to be Lindsay. Not Lindsay "Mike's Widow" That lasted about a month. I pushed away my feelings, I acted stupid, I broke my own rules. Eventually I got to the point where I didn't know who I was. I was so fucking empty inside and felt so lost, that I realized.... I will forever be Mike's Widow. Mike was there when I pulled myself out of the shithole gutter of an adolescent I had and built this dream life. And just like those roots always being a part of me, I will forever have this tragedy attached to me. And guess what? I should be proud. I should be proud I didn't turn into a piece of shit addict, or kill myself, or crawl into a ball and cry. I got up and made something of myself, I accomplished the goals I set out to. I grabbed life by the balls and owned it. So I am proud. I'm proud to be his wife, I'm proud to be his widow, and I'm proud to have his last name. Whoever gets to know the real me, will know that I am the person who I am because of all of these mountains I have conquered.

Pissing on Today

I had a rough morning. I blame it on tax season. (Digging through all the death paperwork for the tax guy, sucked.) I blame it on FB showing me a video taken a year ago of Mike and Olivia playing in the store with Star Wars toys. It was a good weekend, but for some reason this Monday has got me by the balls. I wanted to take Liv to the aquarium, but that didn't happen. I wanted to get organized and work on school stuff, that didn't happen. I need to go to the gym, because I was a total hog this weekend, but I'm currently in my gym clothes in bed.

I think part of my problem is explaining how I feel. I try to put it into words with my friends, family even my therapist....but I never totally feel like I get my point across. Here we are almost 9  months later, and I still can't get it out how I feel on a daily basis. Lonely, sad, mad, angry, happy, thankful, scared, alone....I felt all of that in this one fucking morning alone. I understand, I have had a major traumatic event happen to me. But I just want to get to the point in my life where I'm normal again. Where I'm "healed". I don't have a normal life now. I feel like I'm like on some type of extended vacation, waiting for my old life to come back. 

Don't get me wrong, my new life is great. I have more time with Liv, more time to be a 28 year old woman, more time to focus on school, more time to focus on me. I have money in the bank, a beautiful child, a nice house, a nice car, awesome friends....all good things but missing one important factor....Mike. And no matter how much I bullshit, and say "I'm fine, I'm good, I got this shit" I know deep down, I'm a fucking mess. So much I can't even put into words how I fucking feel. 

So, me being me....I need a plan. And here's what I have come up with. I feel like I have strayed from what I want in life. I need to focus on Liv and school, and me. No more worrying about if I am gonna die alone and be a crazy cat lady. No more worrying about boys, future husbands, future kids. I don't know what the future holds, but I do need to focus on today. Mike once said to me "You have one foot in yesterday and one foot in tomorrow- you're pissing all over today."  Typical Mike, totally makes sense. I try so hard to make everyone believe I'm ok, and put all of my eggs into the 'future' life basket, that I forget what my focus is today. I remember the life I had with Mike, and want it back so bad- that I forget I'm living a life today. 

I need to realize that no matter how far I run, or how much I push, I will always be Mike Rodriguez's widow. I need to understand that this tragedy is part of who I am. BUT I need to make today the best day possible. So that's the plan, make today the best day possible...living, loving, and learning from every moment of it.

Who Knew?

After you experience a tragedy, the world is a different place. Besides the obvious that your life is completely turned upside down...food tastes different, comedy is different, even music is different. Today I was in the car, and a song I have heard close to 200 times had a whole new meaning.  Who Knew by Pink, was literally one of my favorite songs in high school. When I started listening to the lyrics, she was basically singing my song to Mike. I was completely mind fucked. Never had I really felt the lyrics like I did now.

And then I started thinking, what if because of my grief for Mike I was morphing everything into being about him. Example, if I see a green ball on the side of the road. Next thing you know I'm thinking "Oh shit, Mike loved the color green...what if he's trying to send me a message" Or what if it's just a fucking green ball on the side of the road.

I've mulled over this for a couple days, and while I don't think this song is Mike's way of reaching out to me...I do think it's that my eyes see things differently now- music included.

Who Knew

P!nk

You took my hand, you showed me how
You promised me you'd be around
Uh huh, that's right
I took your words, and I believed
In everything you said to me
Yeah, huh, that's right

If someone said three years from now
You'd be long gone
I'd stand up and punch them out
Cause they're all wrong
I know better 'cause you said forever, and ever
Who knew?

Remember when we were such fools
And so convinced and just too cool
Oh no, no, no
I wish I could touch you again
I wish I could still call you friend
I'd give anything

When someone said count your blessings now
'Fore they're long gone
I guess I just didn't know how
I was all wrong
They knew better, still you said forever, and ever
Who knew?

Yeah, yeah
I'll keep you locked in my head until we meet again
Until we, until we meet again
And I won't forget you, my friend
What happened?

If someone said three years from now
You'd be long gone
I'd stand up and punch them out
'Cause they're all wrong and
That last kiss
I'll cherish
Until we meet again
And time makes
It harder
I wish I could remember
But I keep
Your memory
You visit me in my sleep
My darling
Who knew?

My darling
My darling
Who knew?
My darling
I miss you
My darling
Who knew?

Who knew?

Weight Loss Chapter 2

Starting Weight: 256 lbs (AHH!!)

Current Weight: 200 lbs (yes!)

Goal Weight: 150 lbs 

So I am about halfway to my goal weight, the weather has changed and the holidays are upon us. To top it off I plan on quitting smoking starting the first of the year. I'm really getting concerned that I will not make it to my goal weight. The cold weather, the stress of the holidays, and celebrating them without Mike all cause me to want to stress eat. No bueno.

However, I have discovered a new app for running. Being a fat kid, running is basically the devil's work. I usually go on the elliptical for my cardio, but I'm hoping with this new App, I will be able to learn to love to run. The other problem is my feet. Worrying about my plantar fasciitis has kept me from running outside, but we shall see.

In addition, I have had a lot of thoughts about me looking so different. I wake up in the morning and stretch and almost feel as though I'm in someone else's body. I've never been this small before, and it's super weird. I wish Mike was here to see me, smack my ass and tell me what a great job I've done. Instead, I will be my own champion and fight for my own health and happiness.

I have a lot of people asking me questions about how I've done it, and what my secret is. I have some simple guidelines I have set for myself.

1. Record everything you eat, good or bad. I use My Fitness Pal, to track food, exercise, weight, water intake.
2. Gym at least 3 times a week.
3. Lots of protiens, not lots of carbs.
4. Remember why you are doing this.

That's all she wrote folks!

Weight Loss Journey Chapter 1

Starting Weight: 256 lbs (AHH!!)

Current Weight: 211 lbs (yes!)

Goal Weight: 150 lbs

4 months ago I went into the journey thinking "If I'm gonna feel like shit, I might as well look good" Well 40 pounds later, I feel like I look a lot better, but I still feel like shit. At the same time, I feel amazing. When Mike died, I thought, "I need to get over this, I need to kick ass and take names, I need to prove to the world that I am strong and nothing will keep me down. I went to the gym literally every day, picked up some new hobbies, ace all my school classes, redecorated my house, picked up gardening. 


One of my favorite movies is Elizabethtown, with Kristen Dunst and Orlando Bloom. Towards the end of the movie, the widow, Susan Sarandon gives her husband's eulogy. I found it hilarious, because she talks about after hearing of her husband's passing, she tries to fix the car, learn how to cook, learn to tap dance, fix the toilet- it was my life. I thought if I kept going going and going, the reality of Mike not being here would subside.  And for the most part, it did. 

The gym offered me a new way of coping with all of these bottled up emotions, all of the guilt, sadness, loneliness, I found a way to take it out on the weights and elliptical.  It was a big change for me, I went from being a career fat kid who ate her feelings to someone who was eating better, working out, losing weight. It gave me a way to work towards a goal, keep a schedule, and focus my energy on myself. Something completely new and foreign to me. It was and still is exciting, scary and new. When I posted the picture of my 40 lb weight loss, I got so much love and support and encouragement from my friends, that I went out and gained 3 pounds. Pretty much falling off the "diet bandwagon" 

I think that subconsciously, I was worried about succeeding. It scared the fuck out of me- succeeding without Mike here. So many times I had been down the diet and exercise route, and not necessarily succeeded. Mike was always there to tell me how beautiful I was, to encourage me and help me, and now I was accomplishing something without it. When I shared my weight loss with the world, it was like my secret was out there, and I was doing really well- without him. Scary shit. 

When I got back on the "diet bandwagon" it was hard, it still is. There are nights where I lay in bed and wish he was next to me, and my first reaction is to eat a package of oreos, and a tub of Ben & Jerry's. Some nights, I do that, other's not so much...but the main thing I have learned through this experience is that- I can succeed. I can focus my energy on myself, and it doesn't tarnish Mike and I's relationship, it doesn't diminish the love that we have. It shows that Mike married a really fucking strong determined woman, who will bust her ass (literally) to succeed and show her daughter that life can deal you a shitty hand-but that doesn't stop you from reaching your goals.

Boys

As I slowly climbed out of being my grief, the summer heat made me feisty. Construction workers, guys at the grocery store, guys pumping gas, guys at the gym, guys at bars, guys at parties, there are guys everywhere! Blame it on being in a committed relationship for the last 8 years, but I've never noticed how many men are out there in the world. 

I start to think about where my life will be in 5 years. Married? More kids? Another dog? 7 cats? I start to think about the qualities of my future husband...what will he look like? What will he do for a living? How will he interact with Olivia? What will my future engagement and wedding be like? 

Typical Lindsay, jumping way ahead of myself. I actually feel slightly bad for the man who becomes my husband. He has big shoes to fill. Mike was an amazing husband and father and we had one of those storybook romances. I don't put him on a pedestal, he was a man with many faults as well. I promise I will never compare future husband to dead husband. It's not fair to anyone involved. I was Mike's second wife, and nothing made me crazier than when he would compare me to wife #1.  All of this thinking has brought me to some ground rules for my future man:

1. Olivia is my #1 priority. She will always come before you. If you can't accept that, we shouldn't be together. She will know about us, when I'm ready to tell her. Most likely we will have to date for a year before you meet her.
2. Friends first and foremost. No matter what happens between us, we need to remain friends. I don't like having weird past relationships out there in the world.
3. You will never be Mike Rodriguez, nor do I want you to be. I'm with you for you not for you to be something you're not. 
4. I don't do drama or silliness. If you want to have sex with someone else or be with someone else- just tell me. 

That about sums it up. Nothing too crazy. Now here comes the problem, finding said boy. At 28, most guys are either married, gay or in a relationship. Not to mention, I have more baggage than O'hare on a Friday night. 

Widow ✅ 

Child ✅ 

Very close to her dead husband's family ✅

Group of overprotective friends who will literally murder someone who doesn't treat me well ✅✅

I can be a lot for a guy to handle. I'm loud, opinionated, have my own money, my own career, my shit together. Slightly overwhelming to someone not strong enough.  Once you find a guy who does think he can handle me, they're usually too old for me. Or I find them to be completely annoying. Or I think in the back of my head- "you are in no way good enough for me" 

I'm not conceited, I just have a high standard for what I believe I deserve. It's taking me a long time to get to this place. Being a girl who grew up without a dad, I had major issues with men. I fell hard for the first guy that gave me any attention at 15, big mistake. I got knocked up by the second guy who gave me attention at 19, I got a beautiful baby out of so that could have been worse. Gave myself away too fast to a handful of losers, until I hit the jackpot and fell in love with my best friend. So now that I'm back in the single world, I'm very careful about who I will give my time and attention to. I'm a spiritual and emotional person. I feel like whoever this magical person is, will have a really solid connection with me first, before we become anything more. The thing I liked about the relationship I had with Mike, was that we were friends first. We had that bond and that foundation that made us amazing together. 

Obvie, I'm not looking for someone to marry me tomorrow. I'm not even sure if I want someone to marry me at all. I just want someone cool to hang out with. Enjoy the world with, travel with, drink with, watch sports with, be myself with.

One of the hardest things about losing Mike was losing my best friend and now that he's gone, I'm so incredibly lonely. Granted, I have amazing friends who always are there for me when needed. But I'm also the only one in our group without a significant other. #singlelady. I thought about doing some online dating but I am literally a magnet for crazy people so I don't think that's a good idea. I'm not gonna push anything, I have this strange feeling that just like when I met Mike everything will fall into place when I need it to.