At 6am the monkey alarm…a shrieking money-really…goes off.
At 6:15 my little money slips into my bed. Pause to celebrate that she’s not sleeping in her bed all the time. Wahoo. Needless to say when the big kids head to the pool she heads to my bed. I love the early morning cuddles.
This morning I woke to her stroking my hair and gently tucking lose strands behind my ear. It was sweet for about .2 seconds until she said,”I love your rainbow hair with all the colors!”
That got me up.
I took a little extra time with my makeup. I had a BIG day and wanted to put my full face on to face it. I finished with a flourish of powder. Girl cocked her head to the side and asked,”Were you going for the zombie look ’cause…”
There went my confidence.
I got dressed. She waddled over and patted my belly. I warded off the impending blow. “Oh no. You can’t say anything. Nothing. I can’t take anymore!” It was weigh in day. I didn’t need some well meaning comment about my jelly belly on top of the reminder about my gray hair and zombie appearance. Luckily she giggled and didn’t comment.
First 10 emails were problems.
Email problems took me straight to weigh in. I never thought I would miss the email trauma but stepping onto that scale made me miss the emails.
The first 10 weeks of the program I struggled. The struggle was attributed to NOT eating my points. This last week I’d made a conscience effort to use all my points. I’d even been fed breakfast by the weight watchers queen in my office. I was no fool. My clothes didn’t feel different. My body didn’t feel different. I didn’t feel lighter but I was hopeful.
My hope was short lived. Seeing the number I countered by taking off my name tag, my bracelet, putting down my pen and taking off my shoes. Funny but none of those weighed the 10 pounds I was looking for. Using all my points led to weight gain. For the 12 weeks of effort, of counting and planning I was at…wait for it…a total of 1 pound lost.
I grabbed by jacket and left the meeting where I promptly cried 10 pounds of tears. As hard as I was trying…as hard as I was reaching for a success I was just finding failure. I had a text from someone having lots of WW success telling me not to quit. I just stared at it wondering if it’s considered quitting if you aren’t doing anything right.
My afternoon was spent doing my BIG project that has me nervous and in edge praying I deliver a product to make my people proud.
Back in my office after hours of nerve racking moments I found a smile. My co-workers had bought me a dammit doll. The doll was the outlet. The thought was the highlight in a gray day.
So I am a little beat up. A little discouraged but I am surrounded by people determined to keep me moving forward. And today…that’s enough…even for this gray haired, zombie looking, over fluffy, stressed out middle aged me.