Waiting and Watching

Almost two weeks again. Hmm. At least this time I have a better excuse.

So I'm a weight watcher again. I joined Weight Watchers the day before I wrote my last entry, and I've spent most of my web time the last two weeks learning their new PointsPlus system (one PointsPlus value does NOT equal one of the old POINTS values, naturally) and re-learning their e-tools.

I decided that 7 months is long enough for a plateau and it's time to move on with this journey. I don't have that far to go, and I have to keep reminding myself that I've come a long, long way, but the fact is I'm still about 15 pounds above a healthy BMI for my height, and I'd like to at least take a solid stab at getting rid of that 15 pounds.

A few photos just for comparison's sake, all lifted from Facebook. This is me in summer 2007, in January 2010, and in August 2010. That's pretty much what I look like now, except that I now badly need a haircut.





When I told Mark I was thinking of going back to WW, he looked at me a little skeptically and said, "What if this is the weight you're supposed to be?" (Sweet guy!) It's a valid question, and if I give it my best shot and nothing happens, and my doctor and my husband concur, I could live with being this weight for the rest of my life. But I want to try.

So I'm back to meetings and tracking and calculating and whatnot. The first two meetings I went to were on Monday mornings, and I wasn't completely digging them. The leader is...well, I can't decide if she's hilarious or a little alarming. Maybe both? And the reception I got from the other women sitting in the room was not warm. Weirdly not warm. I'm no stranger to these meetings, and they're never like a social event, but this time I got lots of eye contact and not a single smile. Both weeks.

I'm wondering whether this might be due to the fact that I look a whole lot different than I used to. It's not nearly as obvious now that I need the help of WW, especially when New Jersey has transformed into the arctic tundra and I'm showing up in a parka that would have sufficed for Admiral Byrd and effectively hides my...er...figure flaws. When I was first attending these meetings and was hovering near the 250 pound range, I remember feeling less than charitably toward those who weren't similarly hovering. I felt vulnerable and exposed, and their very presence made me feel judged and ashamed. I don't know whether that's the dynamic at play here, but if it is, it feels awfully ironic. Also, on this end of the spectrum, I find myself thinking, "Hey, you don't know what I'm struggling with! This isn't easy for me, either! Quit judging me!"

Note how, regardless of my weight, A) everything is about me, and B) apparently I can read everyone's thoughts, which are always frowny and judgmental and also about me.

On some level I must still be 13.

...OK, lost my train of thought because Will just asked me whether our butts can turn into metal. (???) Where were we?

Right. 13.

So anyway, I'm trying a new meeting this week. Monday's the most convenient for me, but Tuesday could work, too, so I'm going to try that tomorrow. Maybe the group is friendlier and/or the leader is more my style.

Plus, and this certainly figures into it, waiting until tomorrow to weigh in gives me an additional 24 hours to recover from the Stupid Bowl before I step on the scale.

I ate ALL STINKING DAY yesterday. It was a massive failure from a self-control standpoint. It makes me a little nuts, because I don't even LIKE football. I was saved from a total food coma only by the fact that I'd had the forethought to make healthy food for the party we were hosting. About half, then, of the food I was gorging on was good for me. Two things were WW recipes.

One was the Cheesy Chili Mac, which was the centerpiece of the meal. It's pretty easy, especially after you've done it once. I made a triple batch of this recipe, and then I had to throw it out and make it again. Don't ask. But by the second time the prep went pretty quickly. :) Unfortunately, a good portion of our party guests had to stay home due to illness, so I was left with an enormous quantity of the chili. Here's a pic of the leftovers.

That's not even all of the leftovers, actually. Yikes. I'm going to be eating it for months. Thankfully, it really was pretty yummy. I switched out the macaroni for whole wheat macaroni, skimped on the chilies (b/c spicy scares my kids) and the onions (b/c my family has no taste), and added a little brown sugar and some corn starch. My mom raved about it, though with moms you never can tell how much to believe.

The other recipe was for Devil's Food Cookies. This one was weirder but was also a hit. Its primary draw for me was that each cookie is only 1 ww point. I think they accomplished this by adding protein and fiber in the form of pureed lentils (!!!), which I couldn't taste at all. Everybody liked them. My discerning and honest friend Kathy tasted them today and said that they needed to be more chocolatey--she'd add some cocoa powder. But she acknowledged that they'd be really nice used (as the recipe suggests) in some variety of whoopie-pie-like sandwich. Here are the cookies and Jack's reaction to them.



If these two items had been the only things on the menu, I would have been ok. It was the peanut m&ms that were my undoing. (**shaking fist at the sky**) Darn you, peanut m&ms!! Darn you and your mysterious powers!!

Well, it's over. I think I'm done beating myself up about it. I'm making good choices today, and that's what this is really about, even more than the number on the scale. I will never...NEVER...have enough willpower on my own to eat responsibly. Not going to happen. But as I learn to walk through my eating more and more consciously in the power of the Holy Spirit, self-control becomes an option. Imagine that.

I have to run. Joy needs to be picked up from school, Jack's napping, and Will is watching SpongeBob. With a character who has a metal butt. Oh.

p.s. It just occurred to me that you may not be able to access the recipes on the WW site without, like, a retinal scan or something. Or at least paying them money. If you can't get the recipes and you want them, shoot me a message. :)