For all my positive thinking and progress last week, I hit the wall this weekend. I have plenty of things to blame it on — mostly, the stress of being a single parent with no end in sight. (Last I heard, DH is coming back August 4. That’s 3 weekends in a row — not to mention weeks — where I’m sole caregiver. I love the boy and all, but sometimes he drives me nuts. And this weekend he was sick, with diarrhea, which made caregiving especially trying.)

So, after eating one too many JC meals Saturday, I picked up the phone and dialled Domino’s Pizza. I ordered their chicken kickers and a medium pizza (the smallest size they deliver). Thankfully, I managed to stop before I finished either one. I had only (?) 3 slices of pizza and left a couple of pieces of chicken in the container. Then I left them out on the table to ensure I wouldn’t be tempted to have more. On the one hand, it’s a disaster. Surely fried chicken with ranch dressing and pizza will negate any positive efforts I’ve made. Then again, I stopped well before I once would have, which is some sort of victory. (Is this positive thinking, or fooling myself?)

This morning, I grabbed the boy and the Kelty backpack carrier and, despite record breaking temps in the area, we hit the trail. I drove us up to a lovely trailhead in Oakland, which Mia showed me a while back. The trail is very wooded, therefore shady, but it was still super hot and dusty. Plus I was thirsty, I needed to pee, and the boy is really getting heavy. I made it about 30 minutes in all, which isn’t great. But it was still good, and good to get out there. Eating since then has been pretty decent.

Thanks for the encouragement, all. One day at a time. 

Despite measly .6 loss measured yesterday at JC, my home scale says 195 (well, 195.6 but…) and I don’t think it’s said that for quite some time. I’m going to continue to try to squeeze in the exercise (last night’s experiment was fabulous, and it allowed me to get the treadmill all set up). But I don’t think the eating is going terrible, and I need to remember that and keep my spirits up. (Sinking spirits = bad eating.) 

Wow. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve exercised on that treadmill, despite my best intentions when we purchased it. It’s fantastic to have around, though. The boy is fast asleep and I can get my heart rate up (to tunes or videos on the iPod) without ever leaving the building. Hmm… that was the idea when we bought the machine. Thank goodness the plan is finally coming to fruition. But now it’s nearly 10 and I’m nowhere near sleepy, though I usually go to bed around now. Will exercise actually give me energy, or will I just feel drained tomorrow from lack of sleep? Ok, it’s time for me to shut up now. This is obviously devolving into major rambling and I’d better stop before it’s too late.

Well, I lost. It was only .6 lbs, though, which was kind of lame because last week (when I lost 3 lbs) I had eaten a whole bunch of cake and other stuff. Maybe my body was shocked into losing, and won’t give it up quite so quickly any more. My advisor person suggested that I needed to exercise or face weeks/months of losses (if any) of about that size. "I’ve seen it happen," she said. Hmm… I DO have a treadmill, and I HAVE been getting more successful at getting the boy to sleep earlier. Maybe I ought to head over there right now instead of simply typing away (not many calories get burned that way). Off I go…

…pretty well, actually. I’m having regular occasions upon which I consider driving through at a fast food joint, ordering from Domino’s Pizza, etc. And yet, I somehow get wrapped up in something else (the boy) and the impulse fades. I even ate a JC dinner tonight, whereas the last two nights I’ve eaten frozen, better-tasting stuff that I had around. I need to get better about actually following the plan and eating everything (fruit, milk, veggies) that I’m supposed to have in addition to the frozen/shelf stable prepared food, because that’s the only way I’ll feel full. I’ve definitely been hungry the past few days, but usually, when I get hungry, there’s something I can have — lunch, snack, veggies, yogurt, salad — to keep the wolf at bay. It usually just barely satisfies me, but it’s enough. I’m learning how little is really enough to satisfy me.

That revelation should be comforting in some ways. I can save money because I don’t NEED that much food to survive without being hungry. I’m finally getting in touch with appropriate portion sizes. I’m learning that food is fuel, and I don’t need all that much. But, you know, I still wish I could eat more because there’s a sheer, mind-numbing pleasure to it. My mind is just wired that way, I guess. Or maybe it’s just a habit that I need to get out of. Either way, I’m going to keep up what I’ve been doing. Hopefully, it’ll get easier, and more natural with time.

Oh, and I’ve got my 20th high school reunion in a week and 1/2 (and I start the new job right after that) so it’d be nice to feel better about myself for those occasions.

I looked in the mirror a little earlier today and OMG, I actually see cheekbones. Not model-like super-defined cheekbones, but I’m starting to feel like the biographical photo I use professionally isn’t entirely a sham. (This is important because I’m soon going to be meeting people in-person who only know me by my online photo.) Wow. There’s something to this eat less/exercise more thing

Against all odds, I actually made it to JC on Saturday morning, sleeping boy in tow. It wasn’t my intention for him to fall asleep on the way to the consultation, but what are you going to do? So I unsnapped his car seat and hauled it, and all 25 pounds of him, into the building, up the elevator, and around the JC offices for my meeting. It must have been all the exercise, because I lost 3 lbs. Which is great. And I can feel it, too.

Big victory yesterday. I am getting a taste of single motherhood while DH is traveling on business for the next few weeks. To combat loneliness, I invited myself (and the boy) to a friend’s place Sunday. But they live like an hour away and I left the house hungry (and it wasn’t to be a lunch get-together). Terrible planning. So, the stress of it all getting to me, I stopped at In and Out burger and completely pigged out on the way down. I’ll bet you’re wondering where the victory comes in. It’s because later, when I got home, I didn’t feel compelled to continue the binge, or even eat a "sensible" dinner. I really wasn’t that hungry, so I had some fresh veggies and called it a night. (Not without some mental difficulty, however, as failing to eat when it’s "breakfast time," "lunch time," or "dinner time," is against one of my cardinal rules — to my utter dismay.) So it was a very good thing.

I think the reduced portion sizes, the fresh veggies (and fruits) of JC are helping me get a better handle on what’s appropriate, and my stomach is shrinking a bit. Having DH away is stressful in some senses, but it probably makes it easier, too, for me to eat more independently. Stocked up with easy-to-prepare veggies, grass-fed beef hot dogs (outrageously expensive), and other quick-and-easy healthy fare for the boy. So far so good.

Well, it’s done. I just quit my job. And, yes, I have a new one. But, wow. I’ve had the same boss since 2001, so this is a pretty major shift, not to mention that it’s a fairly significant shift in my workaday routine. But it seems like it’ll be fun, so I’m really excited (and nervous). I am to work out my 2 weeks notice and then start the new gig (after 1 day off completely).

In the midst of all the chaos (meanwhile, DH is away on business until further notice — at LEAST 2.5 wks), my eating hasn’t been extremely disordered. At least not today. Last night, on my first night without DH, and with so much on my mind, I finished off the last of the birthday cake, practically shoving it in my mouth. Why? Probably loneliness (so much going on, no one to talk to), stress (taking care of the boy by myself for weeks) and guilt (with all the drama I completely forgot the JC appointment until 5 mins before I was supposed to be there — too late). But since then, it has been better.

I narrowly avoided eating a savory scone or two for breakfast. The way I worded that, it’s as if the scones were chasing after me and I was fortunate enough to duck at the right time. I had lunch out, and it wasn’t too terrible. I let my lunch partner order, since it was a tapas place he’d been to before, and we shared. Now I sit in the office, completely and utterly distracted. But I’d better finish up my work for the week before it’s too late. Bon weekend!

P.S. I rescheduled my JC meeting for 10 a.m. tomorrow so I’m not completely off the wagon in that regard

Weight wise, I think I am doing good, despite the out-of-this-world-delicious cake that Mia describes enjoying. After everyone left the party, I just couldn’t walk past the damned cake without taking a bite. But, strangely, now that it’s not right in front of me (there is still a little in the fridge), it’s not calling my name. BTW, this cake was something like a “Tres Leches” cake but with strawberry goodness added. Anyway, I’ll shut up about the cake now.

So, generally JFC seems to be working for me, though I haven’t been religious about it. Lots of leftovers from the party, and I can’t let lovely grilled beef and chicken go to waste.

It’s been a crazy week, emotionally. I have got some job stuff going on that I can’t really divulge yet, and it’s got me doing mental circles. It has me really thinking about my self image, and my identity, and my place in the (work) world, which is probably a healthy thing. So far (thankfully) it hasn’t affected my eating in a negative way.

But tonight we ordered out for Indian food and I caught myself just stuffing food into my mouth and barely even chewing. It’s partly my own fault, but also the example of my husband, who, I think, barely chews. Anyway, mental note to be more mindful in future. Tomorrow night, JFC. Wish me luck.

Last night, the family went to CostCo to pick up some supplies in anticipation of the boy’s birthday party Sunday. I was hungry when we went. DH had mentioned something about picking something up at CostCo to eat, so I didn’t eat beforehand, expecting I’d have a momentary lapse from JC and have a slice of pizza or something. The boy was also pretty hungry, but we had along a container of Cheerios to tide him over. At some point, it became clear that DH’s plan was to buy something semi-pre-prepared (rather than wholly cooked) at CostCo and take it home to eat. This wasn’t what I was expecting. I was ready and willing to "cheat" and I told him so. But DH wasn’t having it.

This devolved into a screaming match about what he’d meant by "pick something up at CostCo" and what I’d expected, and what I wanted. I was really hungry at this point, and my temper does flare when my blood sugar is low. No, he insisted, I want to help you do JC, and we’ll go home to eat. I brooded for a while and stole a couple of Cheerios off the boy. But, indeed, we did come home, and I prepared my frozen JC meal, and that’s what I ate for dinner. We were still at each other’s throats all evening — DH had figured out that the leftover pasta he was expecting to eat was pretty skimpy (not as skimpy as the JC meal, but…) and he got in a huff about it and stormed around for a while. Somehow, with time, this all subsided. And I was still on JC, and faithful. Thanks to my controlling husband.

It’s an interesting incident for me because the dynamic between DH and I has been one of the difficulties in my losing weight since we were married. In fact, when we were married I wasn’t half bad, weight-wise. But the stress of supporting us both (he couldn’t work for a while after moving to the U.S.), and various and sundry other woes, meant I gained quickly and haven’t been able to manage things since. He’s one of those skinny people who can eat whatever he wants. Exhibit A: this morning when he returned from playing soccer to eat a "breakfast" or "lunch" of cheetos and dark chocolate. So it’s not that easy to be around him and his chosen foodstuffs. Plus he wants me to be happy, and I love food and drink. So maybe this new hardass husband is what I need to be successful. I hate it, but maybe it is what I need. (And I hate admitting that possiblity as much as I hate his being tough on me.)