Well, I did it. After losing almost 30 pounds 10 years ago, I’m back at Weight Watchers, hoping to lose a certain amount of weight that I’m not yet ready to make public.
I can’t believe I’ve let myself get to this point.
Too much red wine. Too many fun snacks. Too much picking food off the kid’s uneaten lunches. Being bored, being stressed, and making excuse after excuse (oh, I was good all day, oh it’s Friday, oh, I deserve this)…
And now I just need to get healthy. I need more energy. I want to fit into my clothes again! I don’t want to have another summer of trying to suck my gut in all day. I don’t want my thighs rubbing together. I don’t want to be asked ‘when am I due’….
I’ve never put a lot of stock into being totally obsessed with weight and paying attention to every little thing that goes into my mouth. I figured it was more fun to live life and not have any regrets about what I did or didn’t do when it came to food and drink.
Clearly. The scale tells that story!
So do my pants! Yikes! It’s not just a muffin top happening here. It’s a frigging breakfast buffet special!
I’m sure my hubby will read this post and give me trouble for making it sound worse than it is.
Meanwhile, he’s lost three pounds this week just by breathing.
And don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for him. Good on ya, sweetie, love of my life, darling, snookie nookums.
Now don’t say another word until I lose twenty pounds.
Men just don’t really get it. They just have to THINK about losing weight and they shed it! Meanwhile, we voluptuous goddesses (oh, yeah, I think I like that title!) have to worry about eating less and less the older we get. That means drinking less too.
If anything is going to make me want to drink MORE, it’s getting older.
And having to eat less!!
Eat less? You don’t mess with a woman and her food, unless you want to lose an arm or something!
I’m in mourning. Because that’s how I have to look at all of this. A life-style change. NOT a diet.
I’m kinda down about all that.
But I’m more blue about getting to this point.
And yes, I know what I have to do. We all know what we have to do. Eat less, move more, yadda yadda.
That’s been drilled into my head for years! But have I done much about it?
Not a whole lot. About two years ago I was big into working out. But every weekend, it got blown out of the water with ‘happy hour’.
I should maybe explain our happy hour. It’s a little different for everyone.
Around here, it’s a group of friends getting together, usually on a Friday night. The kids all get pizza and play downstairs. The adults have drinks and appetizers, etc.
It’s a hoot. My own kids love happy hour. They always ask when we’re having everyone over for happy hour.
And I’m not going to stop happy hour. Snacks can be made healthier; drinks don’t always have to be red wine… I’d like for them to be, but again I have to answer to my pants about that!
We can still have fun and just be in more control. Things don’t have to be ‘blown out of the water’.
I’m frustrated that I did all that hard work two years ago and let it go. I actually had core muscles. Now they’re non-existent (hence the pregnancy questions I guess).
Oh well, tomorrow I start the plan.
Tonight though, there will be a little caressing and some loving whispers…
No no no, not with the hubby. He’s out drinking beer and having wings (he’ll probably lose another two pounds by tomorrow)!
I’m talking about having a little quality time with my lovely little glass of red wine. I’ll miss you, old friend.
It’s not good-bye; it’s just ‘so long’ for now.