A is for Accountable


Since I know my faithful readers (both of you) will hold me to my word, allow me to lay out my weight loss goals for the next few months. My nambsy-pambsy efforts to transform myself into a Giselle look-a-like (gotta swing for the fences) have not produced fruit. The lemonade thing was a hail mary pass that failed. The Body for Life workouts have been good, but I’ve traded in the free day for “free moments” throughout the week and the diet’s a bust.

I’ve figured out my problems:

Leftovers. I can’t stand to watch all that lovingly prepared food go to waste. If the kids don’t clean their plates, I do. I make what I like to eat, so it’s always a temptation. I’ll eat a mammoth sized bowl of steel cut oats because I don’t want the garbage disposal to savor all that whole grain goodness the kid’s didn’t finish instead of me! I finished Kate’s and Luke’s burritos last night because I went to the trouble of making homemade guacamole, and filling that divine should simply not go to waste.

I need to envision all that food I’m scraping off their plates as food not insulating my vitals. What I need to do is slither and squeeze myself into my “skinny jeans” (the zipper may require pliers) and wear them all day as a constant reminder to not dish out such generous portions. And then when I pass out from all that shallow breathing, I’ll ask the nurse if I can have a Splenda drip in lieu of glucose.

My other problem is eating after hours. When all the kids are tucked in their beds, the baby’s asleep and the dishwasher is humming hypnotically, I feel I deserve a little treat. My go-to is a handful of nuts and a handful of chocolate chips (for the antioxidants, of course.) The trouble is, if for any reason I need to walk past the kitchen again (to check on the kids, get something from my room) my legs automatically detour back to the secret stash, my arm involuntarily extends and my hand clutches yet another serving of “antioxidants” for the walk back to the TV where Simon Cowell and the final season of Lost await. This has been known to happen more than once.

So make me accountable! Today, I vow to toss the leftovers, ban all digesting after 7pm and water, water, water. My goal is two pounds a week until the magic number appears. I’m hoping that will be Easter. Paul and I are planning a trip to Maui this summer and I don’t want to spend the entire trip sucking in.

And that whole Taylor Lautner wannabe thing? It’s shaping into a reality for him. I refuse to be the one shopping for muumuus while he’s buying himself a souvenir muscle tee in a medium.


5 responses »

  1. Margaret,
    If you are concerned about losing weight—and want to lose two pounds per week until Easter—I have two things to comment:
    1- Where will you go??!! Seriously, what excess weight will you be losing? Your earlobes?! Easter is six-and-a-half weeks away. There is no way that you have 10-12 pounds to lose. Your weight would look amazing on MY frame—and I am practically a hobbit (for shortness, not hairy toes). 🙂
    2- . . . Okay, only one comment I guess. . . . But, truly you look amazing.

  2. Shoot! That sounds unsupportive. Which, I did not intend. So, I will support your skinny self losing two pounds per week and becoming an even skinnier self. You go for it!

  3. I had an old weight watchers leader say something along the lines of “let it go to waste or it will go to your waist” in reference to cleaning off our kids plates. we all do that.

  4. Sounds like you have a good plan in place! A psychological game I play is… 1. While the kids are pushing food around their plates I like to tell the kids “The kitchen is closed when dinner is over. You better eat up now because you aren’t getting anymore after this!” That goes for me as well. Then #2. After the kitchen is all cleaned up I turn off the lights and announce to Brett (and myself) that the kitchen is officially closed. It’s silly, but it works for us.
    Good luck! Keep us posted!

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