Diminutive Outcomes

Our family re-visited the really large and not very welcoming church at the end of town this morning.  As if I wasn't having enough of a pity party, my children decided to act up during the service.  My younger one tends to get quite loud, especially when saying something fresh.  To make matters worse, a very grouchy, older couple was sitting in front of us and the husband was getting so red in the face with annoyance that I thought he might stroke out right there in his seat. 

When I couldn't take it any more, I got up to take my younger darling out to the lobby only for my dear husband to intercept and take her himself.  I thought I was free and clear too listen to the sermon however my four-year-old had other plans.  She repeatedly crashed her body in to mine, tried to start conversations with me (very loudly), asked when "this" would be over, and sunk like a rag doll in her seat.  I was about to grab our things and head for the door when my husband returned with the younger spawn. 

The service was very quiet as they were doing some extended and wordy prayer.  I couldn't tell if I was going to explode with anger or burst in to tears.  I grabbed my younger daughter and took her to the lobby only to have her start screeching right there in front of a group of people.  The remainder of our church visit continued this way until we left after the service. 

A little background information that might make things clearer is that both of my daughters are diagnosed with PDD.  PDD stands for Pervasive Developmental Disorder, a high functioning form of Autism.  They are quite verbal but have difficulty with social situations, loud sounds, crowds, and some receptive language.  Looking at my girls, they are just like everyone else.  Their behavior tells a different story and unless you know them, depending on how the wind blows that day, they may seem like they are just being brats.  I am sure this is the impression the nasty old folks had at church.  They seemed to think I was this awful mother with out of control children.  Not that having PDD or any other disability excuses bad behavior...it doesn't!  As a special education teacher and mother, I know well that being a brat does not discriminate by gender, race, age, religion, or disability.      

This afternoon, I am facing a few struggles. 
1. What are we going to do about church?
2. When will I accept (truly accept, not deny) my children's diagnosis?
3. What in the world am I going to wear tomorrow? (had to throw that in)

I have an entire week to figure out the church issue.  My issues with my girls' issues are too big to resolve in a day.  I guess figuring out my wardrobe is the most manageable tasks of the day.  I tried on some things I haven't worn in a while only to find they are no longer too big but snug instead.  This is such a disappointment and making me feel  that awful loss of control over my body. 

For today, I have moved some of the things that don't fit from my closet and will find something to wear tomorrow that I feel good about myself in.  I have a couple of ideas so I am not at a total loss.  I was able to accept being a size 14, and bordering a 16 was ok too.  Now that my 14/16 tops from Lane Bryant are fitting snugly, I am petrified!  I know that I am not up for a major diet overhaul.  I can only handle my current exercise goals and try to snack less. 

Today, I had oatmeal with a hard boiled egg for breakfast.  I had two small peanut butter crackers for a snack around 1:30.  We didn't eat lunch until 2:30 so it was pretty big.  I had two pancakes, egg whites, two small sausage links, two pieces of bacon, coffee, and two pancake popper things from Denny's.  I would have to realistically call this meal somewhat of a binge.  I waited too long to eat and over did it.  It is 5:00 and I am still full.  I will probably have a small dinner later or just a snack like popcorn.

Seeing my food for the day written down is making me embarrassed that I ate so much for lunch.  I am tempted to delete the entire above section but feel it is important to get it out there.  While I feel like some of my clothes fit like the pic above, I WISH my stomach was that small.

Ok, enough  feeling sorry for myself.  There is laundry to put away and exercise to do that I didn't do yesterday.

Do any of you plus size women out there relate to my struggles?  How do you cope with that fear of out-growing clothes?  I feel like I could be content at a 14/16 if I knew I could just stay that size.  The fact that I feel those clothes getting tight is making me panic.  Any advice?