Squishy Vs. The Weekends of Doom

Being the only one in your household that's trying to eat healthier and lose weight sucks. Balls. Seriously. It seems like everywhere I turn I'm faced with delicious delicious carbs. Open the cupboard for some dill to make veggie dip when suddenly potato chips. Open the fridge to get out some veggies when suddenly glorious fatty fatty cheese. Open the freezer to get some steam-able frozen veggies when BLAM ice cream galore. It's not fair. 

The worst, however, is when I invite my nieces to spend the weekend. They are three adorable TINY blonde girls, ages 11, 7, and 3. I love them to death, and I can't say no to them, like at all. It's a serious problem. Auntie Beth can you make us cake? Why yes, of course I can! Auntie Beth can you make us rainbow sprinkle pancakes with homemade strawberry syrup and whipped cream? Why of course!! Would you like extra sprinkles on top?? Like I said, serious problem.

And it only gets worse because they want me to eat the stuff too, so I do. Because I can't say no. Lets eat popcorn while watching that movie, you have extra butter right? We cant go to the playground without stopping at taco bell for nachos and tacos first. We need to have ice cream after walking outside. We can not possibly have a fire without smores!! 

So, I overindulged and spent two weekends (because I was lucky enough to have them two weekends in a row) just forgetting I was watching what I was eating and went for it. And I loved it. I loved every second of it. You forget how all that wonderful stuff tastes while you're abstaining from it. It was really nice to not have to think about every little thing that was going into my mouth.

Then I stepped on the scale on Monday. And found out I had gained 6 pounds. In one weekend. Damn, that sucked. I worked really hard the whole week and lost 5 of them. But then the next weekend happened. And I gained 4 pounds. It took me the whole rest of the week to get back to where I was 2 weeks ago. So, a lot of hard work to basically accomplish nothing. 

But the moral of the story is, I haven't given up. I didn't say "oh, I had a good run, time to hang up my food scale and finish that chocolate cake with ice cream and sprinkles." I actually picked back up where I left off and got back on that wagon. It was a big step for me. So, now I know that I am stronger. That I can handle a setback. That I can indulge for that short amount of time and not feel like I failed. 

So, all in all The Weekends of Doom were not that at all. They were Weekends of Enlightenment.