Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Back in the day I was a chubby kid. Not necessarily fat, but not really one of those cute skinny types either. It sucked. Plus, I was tall which made me look even bigger, and I had curly hair when everyone else had pretty straight locks. My only saving grace was that I didn't have glasses. It wasn't ever one of those things where people told me I was fat - at least not anyone I can recall. I'm sure it happened. It happens to skinny kids, so I'm sure it happened to me, but I knew I wasn't skinny. My mom's doctor told her that once I got my hormones all evened out, my weight would drop. And it did, with the help of some old school Weight Watchers. I was a sophomore in high school that was 5'7" and weighed 135, and I finally felt great. And then I went to college, loved on Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia, Mad Mushroom pizza, and tequila, and my weight went up. We'll stick to the term the Freshman 15, although that is certainly being conservative. Oh, and then I graduated and got married and had a baby. And that adds some more. So, you see how it is, right?
Once Mr. 10 was about six months old, I was tired of feeling big and seriously sick of looking at myself in pictures with this adorable blue eyed baby boy sitting on my big hips. I had dropped the NutraSweet from my diet and was feeling confident and better than ever; except my weight. I started thinking about when I felt the best. It occurred to me that it was my sophomore year of high school (minus the aspartame induced daily anxiety attacks). I sucked it up and went to a Weight Watchers meeting only to get the information with absolutely NO INTENTION of EVER going to another meeting. I weighed in, took their points scale and some pamphlets and left. That was in January.
By the time Spring Break rolled around, I had dumped twenty-five pounds and was below my high school weight. I never went to another meeting. I did it all on my own on sheer hard core willpower. I had convinced myself that French fries tasted like hell, fried chicken was disgusting, and candy bars were the devil. It was blissful, and it didn't occur to me to eat any of those things: until I was pregnant with Miss 8. When I was pregnant with that girl, I craved meat, cheese, beer (I swished with it! I kid you not!) and french fries. I wanted protein and chocolate! I managed to keep my full pregnancy weight gain to under thirty pounds, had her and was back to my weight in two months. I was also back to realizing that french fries are, indeed, delicious sticks of grease filled bliss. Oh and frozen Snickers bars = Heaven on Earth.
Its was okay. I was in control and I kept things where they needed to be up until about five years ago. Lets go ahead and blame Gavin. He's a wild little monkey who loves cheeseburgers and often causes w(h)ine time. I love him dearly for the giggles and anguish he gives me. I am not, however, happy about the ten to twelve pounds that I've tacked on. I realize that, in fact, it may be my 30something metabolism coming out to bite my in my ever-growing ass, but I refuse to cooperate!
You may have noticed that I am a bit of a, shall we say, crazy dieter. I do it for a few days hard core, then my mom makes brownies and I fail. After that, it takes me two weeks of eating like a piggy to climb back on the Weight Watching wagon. So, here I am, 10 days post brownie breakdown, back to counting those stupid points. The good news is, I can eat fruit. Also, I get all psycho on the points numbers and try not to eat any meal above four points so I'm keeping Special K and Silk Almond Milk in business. You're welcome Special K and Silk Fanatics out there.
Here it is. I WILL be at that sophomore weight on the first day of swim practice. June sixth people. June 6th to lose five stinking, measly pounds. Oh it will happen....
My world for a cookie.....