I have hit bottom. I am writing this semi-publicly in an effort to inspire myself. So here goes...Last night, I got home from tutoring at about 9:15. I found this plate of cookies on the counter. Will and Bill had made them. There were 24 cookies in the bag and there are 17 in this picture. (The guys must have eaten 3, because I ate 4 before I took the picture.) This morning... and yes, I'm serious... there was one, just one pathetic cookie left on the plate. Let's do the math people. That's 21 cookies. In all fairness, I think Bill ate a couple more once I got home. But whether we're talking 17 or 18 or 19 cookies, this is really bad.
For the past two weeks, I've tried to get on the wagon. Egg whites and an English muffin for breakfast, turkey sandwich for lunch.... but then, around 2 pm or so, it all turns to crap. Much of this is due to the fact that I'm exhausted and getting about four hours of sleep each night. But seriously, I've got to get a grip. I'm 10 weeks post-baby and the pounds are no longer magically disappearing.
So now I'm going to do something really drastic. I'm posting my weight... and will continue to post each week until I can get into my pre-baby jeans. 172. (If this doesn't work, I'll start posting pictures... then you'll all be running scared.) And now I'm off to make my egg whites and think of a way to explain the missing cookies to my three-year-old.
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