9 lbs

Honestly, i haven't weighed myself in days. For fears that the lbs would be steadily reappearing in my jeans, ive avoided it like a 1-800 collection call. Even if my jeans have gone down one size and I'm comfortable in a size smaller than what has been normal, I still feel like I've gained weight. I eventually get to the scale this morning and sure as shit I lost another pound of butt. It for sure is vacating the butt premises faster than the gut, as long as it's going... I'm down with it. Matt on the other hand looks like he weighs 87 lbs and has enormous knuckles and knees. He's pissing me off today like none other. We had grilled chicken with this awesome bourbon glaze from tastefully simple last night, brown rice and steamed broccoli, with a lot left over. So I reheated it for lunch for the whole family... He only ate half a chicken breast and like 1/2 cup of rice just to prove he's so skinny or something. He was "stuffed". My ass, what's stuffed are my thighs in these tiny ass jeans I can finally fit into, and I feel obligated to only take a bite of my chicken to one-up him and win the silent lunch battle we are having. 20 mins after lunch I totally indulge in one of the meal replacement shake that's only 210 calories and tastes like carnation instant breakfast but a really big serving size of it. And a tasty handful of almonds. I love my almonds!
Dinner tonight I made his day by making his favorite, meatloaf. With ground turkey and didn't tell him it was turkey. He told me it's the best meatloaf I've ever made while I silently laugh hysterically in my head! He thinks he ate all these calories, and it was only a fraction of the calories. And he's so thankful that red meat is back at the table... Haha!!! No red meat for you!!!

Dark days of dieting

5 nights ago at about 4 in the morning, or there about, I awoke to a loud crack. Matt and I both sprang from bed and both assumed that someone had broken in or was trying to. After an ugly underwear parade throughout the house to rule out any criminal activity, we both return to our bed and matt is snoring before he hits the pillow. Me, I'm crazy anxiety person trying to decipher what the heck the noise was is WIDE awake. Suddenly my heightened sense of awareness puts me into fight or flight mode as my king sized bed collapses on my side. metal sheared through wood. My fat ass broke my bed. And of course only after 15 days of intense and very dedicated decisions of what to eat and when to eat it... It breaks. Not 16 days ago or 8 lbs heavier. Nope, not when I needed an aha moment. After I have been struggling to make each day without diet coke, coffee and cheese my stupid, over priced, Artvan rip off collapses on me. So the truth is, why haven't I been writing? Why did I eat a cheeseburger and a cupcake, and 3 cookies...? My bed broke and honestly it broke a little bit of my heart too. I really dedicated myself, and the setback nearly finished me off because I'm fragile. I'm looking for any excuse to say this diet doesn't work, or it's not for me, or I'm failing. Because admitting defeat and returning to my old habits is so much easier than fighting this battle. 24 days isn't going to fix my bed, make me a size 2 or sing me a love song... It's 24 days of a wakeup call. Calling on all the back up and support I can muster up... This battle has only just begun.


Stupid Artvan, I needed a wake up call just not at 4 am.

Lazy days- food therapy

I'm sure I'd be getting more out of my challenge, but I've fallen victim to the cupcake. the last week, the beginning of the 14 day leg of my weight loss journey have been a game of dodgeball for me. I'm dodging fats and dairy as I'm finding those foods are what are slowing down my digestion and making my tummy bloat and feel like a sock filled with two water balloons. Typically if I consume brown rice with any meal I feel the opposite. I feel like the water balloons are back up in my bra where they should be. Speaking of my bra, I feel like it's fitting me better and I can cinch it one notch more with every day I eat right.
As for my sugar addictions, I've fallen victim to the cupcake for Drew's birthday yesterday and before that I've only messed up one more time. And I feel like the Cadillac dealership is to blame for that. Every time we buy a new car there, they send us a tin full of toxic sin cookies. The kind that make you wanna put a scrunchie in your hair, by way of a side pony tail (so when you lay on the couch your head isn't bothered by the bump of your regular pony), take out your contacts and eat the whole tin of cookies while watching lifetime or hallmark channels in your sweatsuit from walmart. Forget about the juicy velour jumpsuit you bought to lounge in pre-baby or your pink Victoria secret pants you bought that now make you have two guts. These cookies are so chewy they could be considered still raw. They make you feel like one really is so thin, if you ate two it should still be considered as just one cause if you stacked them they would be equal to a homemade one. I'm sure I'm the only one following that tangent... But I feel better now, like I took all the power away from those effing cookies just by getting into depth about how they make me feel.
Fall is a hard time to really control your diet. I figure if I can make it through the holidays, I can make it through anything. Halloween I really would love to eradicate from my calendar, it's the reason American kids are fat arses. I would love to strap a feed bag of twix and snickers to my face and spend the day laying in bed... But I'd feel like crap, so wont. Sugar like that only makes my stomach sick, my head hurt and my ass heavier for myself to carry around.
On the agenda rest of the day, steak dreams and enjoying the 75 degree weather.

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