It’s time to shed the fluff and release the thin, trim, hot-lookin’ mama who’s been kidnapped by a size-18 frame (no doubt being held for a cheesecake ransom). This is my mission. This is my journey. May the Fat Chants bring about a new chance … at a better, brighter life.

Fat Chants: I Wanna’ Be Swept Off My Feet

I was perusing the site of my uber-talented photographer friend, Devon Jones (http://devonjimagery.xanga.com/weblog) the other day when I came across this stunning pic of a newly engaged couple she’d taken recently. They were in a vineyard walking toward the setting sun and the groom was carrying his soon-to-be bride as if crossing the threshold into a new chapter in their life. It was amazing. And beautiful. And it smacked me in the face with a harsh reality…

My husband of five years, my best friend for 14, has never — not one time — swept me off my feet. Figuratively, of course. But literally, not a (fat) chance. Sigh.

Always four sizes bigger (at least) than the next chica, I’ve always idolized those fun-loving gals effortlessly hoisted into the air, given piggy back rides down the sidewalk and perfectly situated atop someone’s shoulders for a rousing game of “chicken” in the pool.

At 30 years old, I’ve never once been that girl. But heaven knows I’d love to be.

In the past month I walked 178 miles in four weeks as part of a walking challenge at work (22 miles shy of my goal). And I’ve lost 11 pounds as a participant in an ongoing weight-loss challenge held between myself and some coworkers (but as of this AM, I have gained all but 1.5 pounds back). But those pants I wrote about last month … ha! that zipper isn’t budging.

And, while I’m bummed about my efforts (or lack thereof), what I’ve learned is that failures are as big a part of the journey as successes. Both are crucial because, as I once wrote in a letter to my then unborn son about life and lemons is that, “savoring the sour bites make everything taste that much sweeter later on.”

So, that’s what I’m doing. I’m taking stock of my setback and moving forward with a (very) clear picture of where I want to be—in the arms of my husband with my uber-talented friend Devon on hand, capturing on camera the very first time he sweeps me off my feet.

For more Fat Chants, visit www.fat-chants.blogspot.com.

Tessa Falk is an award-winning journalist and avid mommy blogger at www.pardonourpoo.blogspot.com. She lives in Little Elm, Texas with her husband, Chris, and now 21-month-old giggle-box, Cooper.