So. Tomorrow is my first time going back to an actual Weight Watchers meeting, and I'm so excited I probably won't be able to sleep tonight. I just love it. I'm just so excited! Anyway. The point is, I'm going back to actual meetings, and Daisy June turns one on Sunday. Don't get me started, I'm not in the mood to talk about that right now. Back to the point, if any of ya'll have been lucky enough to see me lately, you probably noticed that even though I've reached (practically) that magical twelve month mark, those last fifteen pounds didn't just melt away overnight. Weird.
So here's the skinny. Ha. Pun? Is that a pun? I have to admit that I don't one hundred percent understand what a pun is. Like a play on words? Like, saying 'here's the skinny' before I talk about how fat I am? Not sure. Anyway, the skinny. Robin once led me to believe that I shouldn't mention numbers, but come on. I'm not invisible, and I live on (yet another) tropical island, so I'm forced into far-too-skimpy clothes, far too often. It's not a big secret that I'm an overeater!!
Anyway, so here's the skinny. I was just over two hundred pounds when I delivered Daisy June, despite being placed on a diet and exercise regime by my (very kind and understanding and seriously not as evil as everyone who didn't know her thought when she did it) OB. I'd gained over forty pounds by my twenty week check up, and she was worried that I'd have a great big fat baby from diabetes who would need an IV for a dextrose drip and that I'd be so fat that they'd have to staple me instead of suture it, and Lord KNOWS I didn't want that (I have a staple thing, go figure) and also, she was just not an idiot. Any non-idiot can tell you that you shouldn't gain forty pounds in twenty weeks. Duh, it's like a famous quote.
So in those second twenty weeks, with her guidance, I did Weight Watchers and I walked until the very last week, when I went crazy and couldn't leave my bedroom for fear of strangling my children or my husband or both. I only gained an additional ten pounds (she wanted me to lose five, I wanted to gain another fifty, so I think ten was a great way to meet in the middle.) I was also over two hundred for Scott, and just under for Warren. And with Ava, I was one sixty two. ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY TWO POUNDS!!! I'm not one to lose an obscene amount of weight in the delivery room, and I took it pretty easy for a few weeks after I delivered. You know, fourth c-section and all. I ate when I was hungry, and I didn't exert myself AT ALL. But I didn't go hog wild either.
So at the six week mark, I joined WW online and stepped on a scale for the first time. It was mid-March and I was 189. I walked, ate right, you know the drill. The weight came off slowly but surely, half a pound or a pound at a time. I felt good, I looked like a woman who just had her fourth kid in five years, life was pretty boring.
Then Nick ended up being gone for five months. Right about his fourth month out, I lost my mind. I still worked out, but I stopped eating right, and when he got back, I stopped working out too. And ate REALLY bad.
The week he came back (Sept 17-ish) I was 168. Twenty one pounds in six months is fine, whatever, but I wanted it to be more because I wasn't a regular fat person, I'd just had a baby!! That should count!! It was faster with Warren and I wanted it to be even faster than that with Daisy June.
So I half assed my way through fall (I was reading Game of Thrones, so I didn't want to work out!!) and when I packed out my scale in mid December, I was 166.5. Pound and a half in three months equals NOT GOOD!!!
Then we moved, and you know how that is. No house, no pots and pans, no schedules, nothing. Lots of McD's, lots of Moe's (WE HAVE A MOES!!!) lots of Papa Johns (WE HAVE A PAPA JOHNS!!!) and NO exercise. At all.
HOWEVER. I got on the scale today, and I'm 166!!! I'll take that half pound and run with it!! HOORAY FOR ME!!!
But now it's back to the grind. I can't get Warren into preschool (and I can't justify the obscene cost of preschool around here anyway even if he DID get in) so the only time I can work out is at five. Ugh. I'm POSITIVE you've noticed I'm not a morning person. BUT, I feel better mentally (not physically, gross) when I'm exercising regularly, and since I'm not going to be pregnant or hormonal again, I figured this is it. It's time to get this under control. OF COURSE, I am not against anti depressants, but for me, if I can ward this off with diet and exercise, I want to try to keep it at that. We'll reevaluate with I move to Washington and don't see the sun for three hundred and sixty days a year, hmmkay?
So thus far this week (uh, it's only Wednesday, you say? To which I will respond IT'S ALREADY WEDNESDAY!!!) I have gotten up at five and worked out. It was that simple. I need to bump bedtime back from eleven (oh, but I just LOVE to stay up till eleven!! It's the PERFECT bedtime!!!) I did my elliptical once and the 30 Day Shred twice. I missed my elliptical. I couldn't use it when I was pregnant because the up and down motion of my knees knocked my belly and the whole motion just jostled too much and hurt) and then after she was born, she slept in my room, so I couldn't use it then either, but not it's in the garage and Nick taught me how to do stream to me on his iPad so I can watch ANYTHING you can pull up on the computer in the iPad (!!! If you need to learn how to do this, I will forward him any of your comments. It's life altering, to say the least) and I just sort of chug along watching movies or Toddlers in Tiaras and life is just grand.
Not so much with the 30 Day Shred. It got a thousand times harder since the last time I did it. In October. Go figure.
Anyway. Is anyone still reading? Remember when I said I was one sixty two when I delivered Daisy June? You might have noticed that that is four pounds LESS than I weigh now. Isn't that disgusting?!?! Gross.
My WW goal is one forty five. But since it's forty three dollars a month, I will probably stop the meetings at one fifty. That's what I was when we moved to Guam, right at the one year mark after Warren. I wanted to lose more, but I felt good and looked sorta awesome if I do say so myself. So one fifty is sixteen pounds away. I figure pound a week, sixteen weeks. Four months. Beginning of June. So that's my goal, less than one fifty before my mama comes out to visit.
And now that ya'll know my dark secret numbers, you can keep me accountable.
In other news, I'm watching the Drew Peterson thing on Lifetime with Rob Lowe and the girl from Big Bang (who is doing a FANTASTIC job, by the by) and seriously, if I didn't KNOW it was Rob Lowe, I would never EVER have guessed it!! Not in a million years!! He's all creepy and old and just looks NOTHING like Rob Lowe!!! Isn't makeup amazing? Why can't I figure out how to use it to cover this ridiculous acne and make my face look skinny?!?! I mean, hello!! It can turn Rob Lowe into that weirdo, but it can't even out my skin tone? Ugh.