Filed under: MyBody
We went to Old Navy yesterday because I wanted to get some new non-pregnancy pants. I could squeeze into my pre-pregnancy wear, but I’ve got a conference coming up so I didn’t want something tight. So I just purchased the next size up — 18 — thinking that surely they would fit. And if I didn’t like them, I could return them. While I was picking them out, I kept thinking how huge the pants looked, and thinking that surely they would be too big. (Maybe my 16s were just too tight because they’d shrunk in the wash.) Imagine my disappointment when I instead found that they were too small.
“Well, I guess I’d better start going to Weight Watchers,” I told DH. His reaction — total support but also total seriousness — spoke volumes. He isn’t the type to say anything, but he’s obviously worried that I haven’t lost any more weight post-pregnancy. (Not for his sake, but for mine.) He’s facilitated me getting my bike fixed, which I hope will help me get more exercise. He’s expressed willingness to watch the baby while I go to WW or go for a bike ride. I definitely need and appreciate the support.
I’m not completely decided if I should do the Core plan or the Flex plan, but I’m absolutely going to a meeting Saturday morning. Three meeting times to choose from (within walking distance of the house) so there’s absolutely no excuse. Plus no joining fees. Here goes…
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