I Went To BlogHer '12 And All I Got Was This New Weight Loss Blog (and a ton of swag, and a lot of good info, and memories...)

Yes, that's right. I've started another blog, and it's all thanks to the good folks at BlogHer '12.  I went to their conference last week and got so charged up, I decided to start a weight loss blog. I made a promise to myself: by BlogHer '13 (next July), I will be fifty - yes, FIFTY - pounds lighter. You can check out my progress at www.KarmaCorndog.com.

 This isn't all about doing something gimicky. This is about empowerment.

When my semi-perfect suburban-wife-and-mom life got pulled out from under me and I found myself parenting two kids (one with special needs) without any family support nearby and on one third of my former household income, I felt helpless. Completely and utterly helpless.

I couldn't help me, I couldn't help my children as much as I felt like they deserved, and I couldn't help my financial state very much, either. It's a horrible way to be, and it leaves you feeling less than. Less than I was. Less than I ought to be. Insignificant to the point of invisible.

Then something wonderful happened. A friend heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend who (and now you're singing the song, aren't you?) heard that Woman's Day Magazine was looking for "real people" bloggers, and needed someone fairly new to the process to blog about their divorce. It didn't pay bucketloads, but it paid and that little bit extra would make a huge difference, if I could get it. 

To my complete and utter surprise - especially since I was (in my mind) insignificant and invisible, I got it. I sent them three sample pieces and I got it. That was two years ago, and Divorce Diaries has been going strong ever since. And while it's been terribly therapeutic, I've really sort of found my voice in this blogging thing. That led me to eventually start this blog, to discuss in-depth a bit more the issues facing single parents of special needs kids.

And that leads me to the weight loss blog. I realized if I was going to do this, I had to go big (pun intended) or go home. I'm telling it like it really is in great, flabby detail. I'm publishing pictures, even. I'm not apologizing for a bit of it, either - I'm going to war with my fat, and you're invited to take a front row seat and  cheer me on or throw tomatoes at me.

On second thought, make that pop-tarts. I love pop-tarts.

My eleven year old daughter, Anna is going to help me keep it real because there's something in this for her, too. She told me quite simply: I want you around. I want you around for a long time, Mom.

I want that, too. Oh, how I want that. And with a little help, and a whole lot of honesty with myself and all of you, I will get there. 

I will get there.

Just watch me.

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