Man, it's been crazy around here.
But that happens, whenever we have out of town guests. We always want to be doing something, and that means I'm not doing my normal stuff.
(So if I haven't been to your blog, that's why. I'm sorry, I'll get caught up soon. Also, while I've got you in this aside here, if you haven't posted for 2 months, I'm going to remove you from my blog roll. Nothing personal, but it gets depressing to click on your link and wonder if you've been eaten by lemurs. When you come back, if you're upset that you've been removed, just leave me a comment that you're back and I'll stick you back on! I miss you guys!)
Last night for my weigh in, I was down 2 pounds. Almost kissing those 180s goodbye. GR2BR, in the slang of the old bbs I used to hang out on. Good Riddance to Bad Rubbish. My friend Jeanne came to weigh in with us, and she was... also down by exactly 2 pounds. Interesting. Thomas got up on the scale next... and was also down by exactly 2 pounds. Ok, now that's just weird.
And we all got stars. Me for 35, Thomas for 40, and Jeanne for 15.
Maybe there's a 2-pound virus hanging out around my apartment. If so, I think more people would like to catch it.
One of Thomas's co-workers (who also does/did Weight Watchers and who's at maintenance weight now, and does Iron Man competitions and fanatical psychotic stuff like that - and gave Thomas some size 32 jeans to "shrink" into) said that Thomas would have made a big improvement when he'd lost as much weight as his daughter weighs.
We weighed Darcy a few weeks back. She comes in at a lean 33.8 pounds. She's actually pretty scrawny for a four-year-old. (I've seen a few thinner pre-schoolers, but not many) Back at her four-year check up, the doctor told me to move her back to whole milk. I've since switched her back to 2% because she was looking less like a starving Armenian. (Armenians were the kids for whom I was told to clean my plate, back in the day.)
Anyway, last week, when Thomas had a bad headache, I ended up doing my 2.2 mile walk with just Darcy, while Thomas went to bed and tried desperately to pretend the sun didn't exist. Darcy... gets tired. The 2.2 mile walk, despite the fact that we do it fairly regularly, still wears her out. Sometimes we bring the wagon with us, and about halfway through the walk, she'll get in it and ride. But most of the time, Thomas sits her up on his shoulders and walks the rest of the way like that.
I ended up doing that the other day.
I carried her for over half a mile.
How the hell did I walk around like that every day?
(Ok, ok, well, at least my fat didn't squirm around and ask questions and try to pull leaves off trees. And pull my hair, stick its fingers in my ears, and otherwise be a right little pest. But still!)
I would say, at least this week, I'm pretty pleased with myself, my weight loss, and my ability to stick with this.