I spent most of yesterday pouting.
See, on Tuesday, I spent most of the day out...went to visit my brand-new niece, along with my slightly older baby niece and my nephew for a little while when he got home from school. Of course, Oompa was there as well as my brother-in-law, as the new Daddy is enjoying some paternity leave while they are adjusting to being a family of four. Anyway, we're currently a dieting family - Oompa of course, is dieting in order to talk herself out of having bariatric surgery, my youngest sister (#2) had her baby four months ago and is now on the bandwagon trying to shed the baby weight, then there's my brother-in-law who is very involved with the Spartan Races and with getting fit, he's lost over 40 pounds in the last year and a half. My sister who just gave birth (#1) is still breast-feeding so she isn't counting calories just yet, but my brother-in-law has been preparing all of their meals over there and he only cooks healthy foods.
We had a Weight Watcher friendly lunch...some of my bird-ball soup (chicken meatballs and vegs) and #2 brought some chicken patties that were pretty good, Oompa brought the Sandwich Thins. We ate lunch, then we went on a 1.5 mile (round trip) walk to Dunkin' Donuts and got some low-point beverages. (I'll mention here that having an iced coffee with Almond Milk in place of the heavy cream is just NOT as pleasing...couldn't finish mine, didn't taste 'right.')
So, all in all, it was a nice day. Then, on the way back, J and I had plans to find a pizza place and have dinner there, being that pizza is a food we can't really do a whole lot of damage to our diets with. J, by the way, has lost over ten pounds as well! So, we find a pizza joint about halfway home, go in, and order a pie. It was about 7:30 when we finished and continued on our way home. Pretty late, considering when we're dieting, we try not to eat anything heavy after 7-ish, especially the night before a weigh-in.
Yesterday morning, I got on the scale. I screamed when it said I was UP .2 rather than having lost anything. Since last week.
In hindsight, I don't recommend kicking the scale across the floor, especially when it's made of heavy-duty glass. ESPECIALLY when you're barefoot. Yes, that's what I did. And there might have been a few obscenities thrown in there, too. Okay, fine....MORE than a few. But, oh, man, I was PISSED.
"Don't worry about that," Oompa was telling me through texts, "It's probably because you ate late in the evening. The check is in the mail."
(Yes, she says that ALL the time. Ever since it was said to her by her Weight Watchers leader, it's been gospel to her.)
"Whatever," I told her, "I'm frustrated and I'm bored." (The 'bored' part stems from not having too much of a variety, but I'm working on that, currently.)
So, yep. I was in a shitty mood for the entirety of yesterday. I was snappy, I was cranky, there were a lot of clanging noises coming from the kitchen of Capulet last night. J avoided me, the kids avoided me. The kids aren't usually around, though, they're at the ages where they are in their rooms 95% of the time when they're not eating or using the bathroom.
But I also did one other thing that I don't really recommend as something that should be done more than once a week, but the idea came to me whilst I was feverishly pondering what happened, what did I do wrong this week? What happened? It dawned on me that I'd not had a decent bowel movement in DAYS. At the risk of sounding gross and anything less than human, I decided that was the problem, along with having eaten late the night before. So, I found a laxative in the medicine cabinet and took two. This was in the afternoon sometime, and by the time we'd finished dinner, my stomach was rumbling. Many visits to the bathroom ensued, and I'd have to say my suspicions of the need of a good colon-cleanse were confirmed.
I'll not say anything more about that, like I said - it's gross, no one comes here to read about what comes out of my ass.
So, this morning - took my shower, washed my hair, washed away all the nasty thoughts I'd had the night before. Did my usual thinking in the shower, too...what's for lunch...what's for dinner...how can I avoid having the same damn things I'm used to eating? How can I get enthused about this whole journey again, given yesterday's setback? Oh, and as of this morning, the rumbles are no longer there, meaning, I'm guessing, I'm all clear. You're not supposed to do this, but I needed to see if this was indeed the problem, so I went to the other end of the bathroom where I'd kicked the scale the day before, and snarled at it. "Allright. Let's try this again." Weighing myself 2x, 2 days in a row, not something we're usually told to do but I needed to know.
I step on and see that I'm now two and a half pounds less than I was the morning before.
The scale has been apologized to, but as karma has it, my foot has a little black and blue from where I kicked it, so I'll consider us even.
I'm going to work on a little something else for you guys to read later, as I'm going to be true to my word and talk about things other than this, LOL. But I wanted to share promised weekly progress.
This week, the check was just late.
And that's what I texted Oompa, too. She thought I meant the child support check. Kind of ruined the joke, I have to say. ;)