But you have to realize what happens inside your head when everyone around you is heaping thirds onto their plates and you can’t have a second tiny glass of wine. You just feel like pinching them hard on the fat of their thighs, these people with their Sweet and Spicy Doritos and their special darn beers and those shiny marconi almonds that come all slippery with oil right? I mean, right?
Eh. Not really. All that passes pretty quickly, to be replaced by immense delight that just for today as people in recovery say, you are patrolling your borders and not tipping whole refrigerator shelves into your giant maw of a mouth.
I started Weight Watchers when I first started to date Old Dave “Dude, your hair’s out of style” I told him about a month in, when it seemed safe to offer a little constructive criticism.
“Yeah well you’re a little FAT!” he said back with a merry smile and maybe that’s why I liked him. While there has never been any cruelty, there has never been any of the old BS either. The man doesn’t lie.
SO ….. I began on Weight Watchers and went from 146 to 125 and that lasted until after my first baby, when I went down to 118. After my third baby I hit 112, if only briefly and these many decades later have evened out at around 132 – though of course now much of the muscle has gone to that something like you see in those bags of fluff you buy to stuff pillows with. And of course here in the waiting room that is Osteopenia, my bones are like Sponge Bob’s bones.
It’s OK with me. The men in my life eat their fried egg and bacon. I eat my banana on plain Shredded Wheat. They have a Coke with their meal. I have sparkling water, pepped up with my special mixture of mint tea and no-cal lemonade. And yes sometimes I get to put a splash of red wine into this mix and boom! Sangria! And sometimes I put in a splash of whiskey and boom again! A whiskey sour!
But mostly I am able to abstain from these little extras because of the great satisfaction I get out of the fact that JUST FOR TODAY I am not ending the day by strapping on a feed bag drooly with Ben & Jerry’s best.
And that, ladies and gentleworms, is a victory all by itself .