That girl to the left? That’s me, almost four years ago, at my rehearsal dinner.
I thought I was fat.
I thought I was fat.
If only my 27 year old self could have shaken my 23 year old self and explained what the evils of birth control, the comfort of knowing someone has vowed to God never to leave you, and the joys of pregnancy-induced hypothyroidism would do to me. Not to mention the “woe is me, have another milkshake” mentality I had for the first year of Donovan’s life. You know, because if you have a child that has some “issues”, you should totally get all the milkshakes you want, right? Ha. No.
Anyway, I found this picture as I was strolling through iPhoto last night trying to find a more recent picture of me that I like to use here and on Twitter. Because you see that chic holding the rolling pin to the right? She’s so seven months ago. And 10lbs heavier. And everyone keeps telling me they can tell in my face that I’m losing some weight, so I thought I would take advantage of that. But, no. There are no pictures I like. How depressing, right?
That brings me to the original intent of this post, which is not to solicit comments on how “cute” or “pretty” or “whatever” I am now. I appreciate those comments, but let’s just be honest for a moment. What I look like now, is nothing compared to what I looked like four years ago, and I would much prefer to look like the skinny blond with a good tan.
Original point…right. Sorry for that tangent.
I have fallen off the wagon HARD. Since…MEMORIAL DAY! That’s right, folks. Over a month. I’ve been off the wagon longer than I was on it. I could blame holidays and birthdays and traveling for work and having company, but I wont. Because I know I could have chosen to make healthy choices in all of those situations. I just didn’t.
The good news? I’ve only gained back 2 of the 8lbs I had lost. And I have continued to work out. I even joined the gym again! And I actually look forward to going. So, I’m totally giving myself credit for those things and trying not to focus on how much weight I would have lost in the last six weeks had I not been an idiot. (But, in parenthesis, let’s just take a moment to realize that I most certainly would have been below my pre-pregnancy weight at this point. Since it’s in parentheses it doesn’t count as a real thought.) I am also giving myself credit for not gaining weight while going through the miscarriage. I was only seven-ish weeks, and right in the middle of bloating hell, but it fell off almost instantly, and I did not use milkshakes to replace it with a food baby. Go me!
Anyhoo, back on the wagon tomorrow! I’ve always liked having weigh-ins on Friday because it means my Weight Watchers points reset just in time for the weekend. Which I will really be needing this weekend. It’s my MIL’s birthday and we’re going to Kobe’s on Saturday (Kobe’s is the same as Benihana for those unfamiliar). I am going to have to avoid white sauce like the plauge, but am really set on doing so, and think I will feel very empowered as a result.
Wish me luck!