i have received many an email from readers and many a phone call from friends (yes! i have friends!) asking me why i’m doing this diet.
“but you’re so skinny/slim/small/wee (insert what you will here), you don’t need to go on a diet.”
i figured i may as well take you back to where this all started.
6 months after i had Isabella, i jumped with glee and a smile from ear to ear as i looked down at my scale and saw numbers i hadn’t seen in ages. i had done it. down to the prepregnancy weight, and wonder of wonders, all of my clothing fit me. hallelujah. it was cause for celebration.
well…i celebrated by going back on the pill for the first time since i went off it to get pregnant with Emily. if you do your math correctly…that was way back in 2000. a long time to be off the pill. if you are a relative you may want to stop reading right about now…there will be talk of sex. so, if you are, say, my father in law, who i have heard from little birdies that he sometimes hangs out around here, you might just want to close your browser.
I decided that i really wanted to NOT have to think about protection for a while. We thought we had it down, but clearly we didn’t, since we unexpectedly ended up with Isabella (please note, we were thrilled to pieces when we found out we were pregnant, and weren’t ALL that shocked…since we aren’t stupid. the pull and pray method doesn’t always work. no, really, it doesn’t.)
one month on the pill and hey…those clothes that were fitting me…not so much anymore. i watched as the scale creeped and creeped. until i plateaued. 8 pounds up. 8. yes. it’s no small shakes to gain 8 pounds in one month. it…well, to put it mildly…and to steal from Chris…it sucks hairy donkey balls. everyone said that it was normal, and that it would come off. well, folks, that was, oh, about 8 months ago…and guess what? didn’t come off. no ma’am. it’s still there in all its glory. i’ve tried to exercise it off. i’ve tried to starve it off. i’ve tried to eat cake it off. nothing worked.
so, when the husband lost a shitload of weight in 10 days, i figured that i really had nothing to lose. my weight wasn’t going anywhere. also…it seemed logical that either i was going to have to lose weight in order to fit into the clothing, or i was going to have to buy new clothing (the husband and i decided that losing weight was much cheaper and more sensible) so, on to the South Beach diet i went. and here i am, one week later (i started this thing last sunday morning) and want to know what i have to show for it?
nothing. i’ve lost a whopping half a pound.
fuck. fuckity fuck fuck.
it doesn’t make any sort of logical sense to me. my diet used to consist of carbs, carbs, carbs, carbs, sugar, sugar, sugar, sugar, coffee, oh and then some more carbs. i liked to eat rice cakes. and bread. and cookies. and cake. and donuts. and pasta. and more cookies. and power bars. and cereal. notice what it is…carbs and sugar.
so, for the past week i haven’t had a single dessert. not one. i havent had a piece of bread. or a cookie. or a piece of cake. no pasta. no donuts. nothing.
wanna know what i’ve been eating? low fat cheese, natural peanut butter (only 2 tablespoons a day, though) and celery, cashews, salad, veggie deli, more salad, and vegetables. THAT’s it.
anyone want to explain it?
i have two theories. a) maybe this diet is JUST not meant for everyone. maybe they need to take their “you will lose between 8-13 pounds in the first phase” off of their advertising. because, dude, it’s not true for yours truly. maybe some people NEED carbs and sugar. maybe peoples’ bodies work differently. or b) maybe i’m stuck at this weight forever, no matter what the hell i eat. and i should just enjoy myself instead of filling my body with more protein.
anyone else care to share a theory?
i promised the husband i’d stick it out until the end of phase one. one more week. til next sunday morning. because i’m NOT a quitter (although i seemed to have quit the 365 days thing, even though i said i wouldn’t) and because i DO have to give the second week a chance. maybe it will all start to fly off this week. you never know.
jesus, i fuckin’ want a cookie. just a small one. an oreo would do. or a homemade chocolate chip one. or a girl scout mint from the freezer. i don’t even need an actual cookie. cookie dough would suffice. anyone offering? because seriously, this diet is kicking my ass and i’ll be your best friend…