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I think I’ve been using pregnancy as excuse for eating junk over the past few weeks. It’s crazy how I interpret “don’t limit intake during pregnancy” as “go ahead with that pint of Haagen Dazs and pecan danish.”
I thought about joining Weight Watchers online because I feel that I need some guidelines and limitations. I was going to sign up as breastfeeding, figuring breastfeeding women would be allotted enough “points” to make it feasable. (I think breastfeeding requires more extra calories than being pregnant.) But, alas, the sign-up said “At this time, our offerings are not suitable for women who are breastfeeding. Although Weight Watchers Online and Weight Watchers eTools are not suitable for nursing moms, Weight Watchers Meetings do offer a plan specifically designed for new mothers.” So, that’s pretty much out. Just signing up as my current weight would probably limit my calories by too much — or just guarantee I’d feel like a failure. (Or both!) Will have to wait until I really am a nursing mom.
Anyway, at the doctors office yesterday I got the news that I’d gained 8 lbs in the past month. That’s about double what I should be gaining. Not a big surprise, and actually kind of good to talk to the doctor about it. He said I should eat small amounts every few hours and “no meals.” Hmm. I totally understand the concept. It’s just I like to eat with DH and cook dinner for him. Maybe I can just do better throughout the rest of the day and eat a small dinner with DH.
I started out OK after the doctors visit. We went out to Macaroni Grill and I got a lowfat Caesar salad and a dish they call “skinny chicken”. I looked at other stuff on the menu but realized I’d be just as satisfied — and gain less weight — with the skinny chicken. I guess names like “skinny chicken” are supposed to help people make better food choices, but it somehow annoys me. I guess I hate being “abnormal” and ordering from a special menu. Why can’t healthy choices simply be part of the regular menu? Anyway it was grilled chicken over a bed of sauteed spinach, with a side of tomatoes sprinkled with feta cheese and red onions. The chicken had some kind of balsamic sauce. Mmm… I ate way too much bread before the meal arrived, but it was definitely a step in the right direction.
Then, on the way home, DH half-jokes “let’s go for ice cream.” *sigh* We didn’t.
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