I'm down two pounds this week. YAY. And I've got 9 Molly pounds left to lose. That's single digits people. WHOO HOO. I think I'll go have a celebratory toffee bar!
Why is it that every time I have something to celebrate I want to celebrate by EATING? I was talking to Phillip about this and he said that you're supposed to celebrate losing weight by buying new clothes. Which I can TOTALLY do, by the way. But honestly, my first thought turns to something sweet. Oh! I should have a piece of cake! Because: go me!
I'm starting to get a little nervous about all the holiday eating. Not NERVOUS. I mean, you do your best and if you fall off the wagon you get back on the next week la la la, but still. You don't want to lose all your momentum, which is what Christmas feels like to me. (Well, besides all that Birth of Christ stuff.)
We're having a party this weekend and I can tell you now that nothing at our party is going to be good for you. And we're having four Christmases this year. FOUR. We're going to have our own family Christmas on the 23rd. We want to have some time to ourselves to open the presents we give each other and you KNOW I'm going to put out a plate of treats. I HAVE TO. The 24th belongs to the party at my grandma's house with extended family and you know what we eat on Christmas Eve? FRIED BREAD DOUGH. Smothered in the topping of your choice and most of us pick my grandma's egg salad. My aunt makes about 12 million of these little puffs of fried goodness and I swear, that's 20 pounds RIGHT THERE.
AND THEN. Christmas Day we spend with Phillip's parents, which is a nice respite from the insanity of my family, but still all about the food. Even more so, since Phillip and his dad expect to eat prime rib with all the fixings. AND! AND! This year there is even more going on, since my brother and his family are flying in the day after Christmas, which is when my immediate family is going to have Christmas. Got to have all the grandchildren there at once, right? My family Christmas is several hours of present opening (there's a lot of us) interspersed with trips to the snack table. Where there is nothing healthy. Of course. (And if there was, why would we eat it?)
So I am doomed. DOOOOOOOOMED. My best outlook is to lose as much weight as I can this week so the Christmas week doesn't do me in completely, but with my party on Saturday that's doubtful. Even if I didn't eat anything, I'm sure gin adds a few pounds. Sigh.