Wait-is that a WAIST?

No, not hump day.

Weigh Day.

Wednesday’s are Weigh Day. WAHOO. This morning, after a sleepless night thanks to a snorer and a restless butter bean that snuck into my bed-causing me to sneak to the couch–I was running late (again). I grabbed some pants and a shirt.  While brushing my teeth I proceeded to attempt to wiggle into my ensemble.  Putting on a shirt while brushing your teeth is never easy (or advised) but this was especially trying.   The shirt was a little snug going on.  I didn’t have much time to fret about as it was already past time to be headed out the door. I did have long enough to ask my husband, “Is this Kinsley’s shirt?” Kinsley is 10.  He nodded.  A four letter word probably followed but I’ll never admit it.  I had a moment of to-change-or-not-to-change.  There was no Plan B this morning. I didn’t have anything else ready to go.  This was on…’ahh to heck with it’ I thought.

At the daycare i got a, “Woo-who Look AT you!” comment immediately followed by the words, “looking good.” Well that felt nice. In the classroom one of the mom’s stopped her conversation to compliment me.  She’s gorgeous and put together and incredibly nice so I thought maybe it was a sympathy comment because I was so obviously un-put-together this morning.

Halfway down the sidewalk on the way to work it dawned on me. I was wearing my daughters shirt. It was snug and obviously didn’t fit but IT WAS ON. Suddenly I didn’t feel quite so disheveled. I scurried into work a bit faster. Weigh day didn’t seem so daunting suddenly.

My bravada failed me as I actually stood at the scale. Crap. This hadn’t been the most diligent week. I’d splurged on a King of Pops Chocolate and Sea Salt popsicle (worth every single stinking calorie!).    I’d counted points but might have forgotten 1 or 2 along the way. Work was crazy and stressful so dinners were later and not quite as thought out as in weeks past. After my brief moment of glee I was heartbroken thinking that I might be disappointed with the numbers I would see this morning.

I am not one to quit so I didn’t allow myself to walk away to weigh another day. I did, however, slip off my shoes. Hey, don’t judge. I had on some honking-cork-wedge-strappy sandals and an ounce is an ounce. I jumped on the scale before I lost my nerve.  With one eye closed (as if that would help) I watched the  numbers roll and roll and roll and roll. Squinting like a scaredy cat in a Freddie Krueger movie I had to wait until the numbers were still.

I am not quite brave enough to tell you the ACTUAL numbers here. I will tell you that I leaped into my shoes and skipped back into my office where my WEIGHT TRACKER waited on me. I don’t think I took a breath until I plugged in the mornings numbers.

WOOT! WOOT! I’d earned a badge. I had lost 5% of my goal and was rocking 9.5 pounds. I felt good. I felt great. I felt like I could conquer the world!  I shimmed a little in my snug little shirt.  I put my hands on my hips.  I felt around to be sure I didn’t have back rolls.  Then I put my hands on my waist one more time.  I might have giggled.

Later that afternoon as I took a break from plotting and planning work flows I popped into say hello to some of my favorite people. One of whom squealed and said, “Look at you!” The other commented on my actual WAIST. In a rare moment I didn’t discount their compliments. I said, “Thank you,” and then squealed right back.  I might have even danced a happy little jig right there in the office.

A few disclaimers: Obviously this shirt must BE big on on my daughter. I have a long way to go before I am ready to pose for any full-length pictures or before I can get back into my sassy orange pants.  My arms were NOT looking as good as my waist and obviously there is a lot more work to be done below the waist.

But today, on Weigh Day, none of those disclaimers matter. Today I feel accomplished and proud and on my way to getting where I want to be. And, if you saw me at all today, I wasn’t striking a mad pose with my hands firmly on my waist…I was testing to make sure it wasn’t a figment of my imagination that I had one.

Weight a minute-is that a waist?

Weight a minute-is that a waist?

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