Wednesday, March 31, 2004
The making of a 500 pound man.
The making of a 500 pound man.
You’d think today was Christmas and Ian was 8 years old. He’s been so excited all week, ever since he hit 499 pounds last Wednesday. We knew that 500 was coming, and we knew that he’d be 500 pounds at this morning’s weigh in. But like a kid wanting to open his present early, he wanted to weigh in yesterday, Monday, on the weekend. He knew he was 500, he just wanted to make it official. I made him wait. Wednesday is weigh in day. Gotta have something to look forward to!
Actually, for the past couple days I’ve been kidding with him. Even though I knew he was over 500, I kept saying yesterday was the last time he’d have breakfast less than 500 pounds, go to work less than 500 pounds, go to sleep less than 500 pounds, have sex less than 500 pounds. (Okay, turns out I was wrong about the sex thing.)
This morning he was up at 5 AM. He wanted to go weigh in, but I made him stay in bed with me until 7. We cuddled for a bit, I was having fun with his fat, again teasing him that I’d never get to play with someone who was less than 500 pounds again, so I would enjoy it while I could.
I know I’ve written about it before, but I’ll write about it again. There is something simply amasing about one person having that much flesh. The shear breadth of Ian is astounding. Lying down, he’s a mountain. Sitting up, well, he’s a bigger mountain. Rolling over is an adventure. Even watching him breathe, with his massive stomach moving up and down, is astounding. There is so much raw power behind all that fat. And it’s MINE.
I finally let him out of bed so he would weigh in. He hurried, but of course when a 500 pound man hurries, it’s more majestic than fast. Watching him turn and shift weight as he gets out of bed (and feeling the mattress spring back once his weight is off! Imagine a woman as fat as I am being flung around by a mattress!). Feeling the reverberations of the floor from each footfall. Enjoying the massive tides of fat crossing his ass, his back, his tummy with each step.
It’s funny, watching him move down the hallway to the living room. He pretty much takes up the whole thing. Part of it is the illusion caused by him swaying back and forth, and the wide arc his arms follow when they swing around his sides. But he couldn’t pass himself in the hallway. Hell, it’s a squeeze for lil’ ol’ me to get past him.
Anyway, as of 7:01 AM, on Wednesday, March 31, 2004 anno Domini, Ian weighed in at 502 pounds. My little boy is now a fat man!
It’s an understatement to say he was excited to have passed 500 so convincingly. I haven’t seen him that excited in a while, and this guy goes nuts when his Maple Leafs score a goal. He jumped around, he hugged me, he jumped around some more. (I could write about him jumping for another 200 pages if I had the time!)
He finally settled down, waddled off to have his shower while I cooked up his first 500 pound breakfast. Didn’t have time for anything super special, I just scrambled up a dozen eggs and fried up a pack of bacon and half a loaf of toast. He took some juice and candy bars for his drive to work.
His first day of 500 pound work.
I’m so proud of him!
Oh, by the way, I’m fully 200 pounds smaller than Ian. Yup, 302 pounds. It’s so weird, being fat and thin at the same time.
I’m feeling good with my weight. I get around way better than I used to. I still remember how awkward I felt at 460, twice as awkward as Ian seems now, I’m sure. But 300 really is a good comfort zone for me. I can run if I have to (not a marathon, but more than three steps). I can actually find a good selection of clothes to wear. I can go out and not be the biggest person. I don’t just mean Ian, but there are enough 300 pounders around these days that I don’t feel like a freak all the time. I fit into places that I didn’t use to. Actually, my mentality has sort of flipped here. For a while, I was surprised when I did fit somewhere, now, suddenly I realise that I’m surprised when I DON’T fit somewhere.
You’d think today was Christmas and Ian was 8 years old. He’s been so excited all week, ever since he hit 499 pounds last Wednesday. We knew that 500 was coming, and we knew that he’d be 500 pounds at this morning’s weigh in. But like a kid wanting to open his present early, he wanted to weigh in yesterday, Monday, on the weekend. He knew he was 500, he just wanted to make it official. I made him wait. Wednesday is weigh in day. Gotta have something to look forward to!
Actually, for the past couple days I’ve been kidding with him. Even though I knew he was over 500, I kept saying yesterday was the last time he’d have breakfast less than 500 pounds, go to work less than 500 pounds, go to sleep less than 500 pounds, have sex less than 500 pounds. (Okay, turns out I was wrong about the sex thing.)
This morning he was up at 5 AM. He wanted to go weigh in, but I made him stay in bed with me until 7. We cuddled for a bit, I was having fun with his fat, again teasing him that I’d never get to play with someone who was less than 500 pounds again, so I would enjoy it while I could.
I know I’ve written about it before, but I’ll write about it again. There is something simply amasing about one person having that much flesh. The shear breadth of Ian is astounding. Lying down, he’s a mountain. Sitting up, well, he’s a bigger mountain. Rolling over is an adventure. Even watching him breathe, with his massive stomach moving up and down, is astounding. There is so much raw power behind all that fat. And it’s MINE.
I finally let him out of bed so he would weigh in. He hurried, but of course when a 500 pound man hurries, it’s more majestic than fast. Watching him turn and shift weight as he gets out of bed (and feeling the mattress spring back once his weight is off! Imagine a woman as fat as I am being flung around by a mattress!). Feeling the reverberations of the floor from each footfall. Enjoying the massive tides of fat crossing his ass, his back, his tummy with each step.
It’s funny, watching him move down the hallway to the living room. He pretty much takes up the whole thing. Part of it is the illusion caused by him swaying back and forth, and the wide arc his arms follow when they swing around his sides. But he couldn’t pass himself in the hallway. Hell, it’s a squeeze for lil’ ol’ me to get past him.
Anyway, as of 7:01 AM, on Wednesday, March 31, 2004 anno Domini, Ian weighed in at 502 pounds. My little boy is now a fat man!
It’s an understatement to say he was excited to have passed 500 so convincingly. I haven’t seen him that excited in a while, and this guy goes nuts when his Maple Leafs score a goal. He jumped around, he hugged me, he jumped around some more. (I could write about him jumping for another 200 pages if I had the time!)
He finally settled down, waddled off to have his shower while I cooked up his first 500 pound breakfast. Didn’t have time for anything super special, I just scrambled up a dozen eggs and fried up a pack of bacon and half a loaf of toast. He took some juice and candy bars for his drive to work.
His first day of 500 pound work.
I’m so proud of him!
Oh, by the way, I’m fully 200 pounds smaller than Ian. Yup, 302 pounds. It’s so weird, being fat and thin at the same time.
I’m feeling good with my weight. I get around way better than I used to. I still remember how awkward I felt at 460, twice as awkward as Ian seems now, I’m sure. But 300 really is a good comfort zone for me. I can run if I have to (not a marathon, but more than three steps). I can actually find a good selection of clothes to wear. I can go out and not be the biggest person. I don’t just mean Ian, but there are enough 300 pounders around these days that I don’t feel like a freak all the time. I fit into places that I didn’t use to. Actually, my mentality has sort of flipped here. For a while, I was surprised when I did fit somewhere, now, suddenly I realise that I’m surprised when I DON’T fit somewhere.
// posted by Charlotte @ 3:27:00 PM 
