3 Weeks In!

After 21 days, I can boast almost a 13 pound loss! I got my first "notice" yesterday when a friend mentioned that I was looking trimmer. I thought it'd take another 10 pounds or so before anyone noticed, so I was happily surprised and welcomed the compliment! Even when I look in the mirror, I see a difference and that doesn't even begin to speak of the difference I feel. If I feel this way after 13 pounds, imagine how I'll feel at 30 pounds! Or 45 pounds!

Mother's Day came and went with flowers, cards, and the most adorable recital of "Happy Mother's Day, Mommy!" from a three-year-old ever (well coached by her daddy, of course, but that almost made it more endearing). We went for a lovely lunch where I ate less than half of my meal, and after a dinner with my father and stepmom, consisting of a small steak and steamed veggies, I ate the teeniest portion of cheesecake ever. The scale reflected weight gain (probably water retention) the next day, but was lost - and then some - by the next day. The last two nights, I made what my husband calls "Mondo Salads," consisting of about 1 1/2 heads of romaine lettuce, 3 oz of grilled chicken, tomatoes, a couple tablespoons of canned corn, and light Cesar dressing. Seriously, and I'm not just saying this, it is one of my favorite meals. I enjoy these salads so much (and have for a couple years now) that Lulu often asks for her own salad, seeing how much I savor mine.

She's a strange breed, Lulu. She's more likely to finish the salad in her bowl than the spaghetti on her plate. On the rare occasion where we eat out, she never touches French fries and gobbles down her fruit instead. She's learning fairly good eating practices early on, though she does have quite the sweet tooth and once happily gobbled down three lollipops while getting her hair cut. Still, she's not a grease-eater, and that is just fine by me. I envy her natural inclinations and am trying to get where she is, naturally.

Tonight is stir fry night, although the word "fry" is a misnomer, as we really just sautee the veggies with a tiny, quick spray of Pam and let them steam the rest of the way. I throw in some chicken strips, coat lightly with teriyaki sauce (which is, unfortunately, deceptively high in calories, sodium, and sugar), and make it a meal.

This morning, I stirred some defrosted marionberries in my Greek yogurt and, oh, wow, it was heaven. Tangy, sweet, a little sour, and so natural tasting. I'm finding my yogurt breakfasts are one of the highlights of my day, sometime I savor slowly and which fill me up, satisfyingly, for the rest of the morning. It should; one serving contains almost half my recommended daily dose of protein. Breakfast of champions indeed.

I'll tell you what's still tough, though: kiddie leftovers. They are the bane of my existence. Leftover quesadillas squares (Lulu and Thor love them occasionally), uneaten noodles with marinara sauce, a half of a bagel that Lulu asks for and then abandons once it's on her plate, the pizza she wanted yesterday while we were at a museum cafe but only ate a few bites of...it's all there, looking me in the eye, pleading, "Don't waste me!" Who knows where I got this mentality, but when I see food left on a plate, I feel it has to be eaten. I wish it were only my plate - I could deal with my plate, because then I'd only serve myself a reasonable portion meant to be finished - but oddly, I feel the same way looking at my my children's plates. And, hooo boy, seeing that pizza stare me in the face yesterday was hard, hard, hard. Hell, it was only museum cafe pizza, not even gourmet, fresh-ingredient-$20-a-pie pizza. But I took one mini bite, and I was sold. I wanted it. As soon as I became convinced that both Lulu and Thor were done, I tossed the rest of the pizza (almost half) in the trash. That is my only defense, throwing it in the trash. If it lingers in front of me, it WILL be eaten. It's like a silent challenge. It's like that "Seinfeld" episode where George fishes the eclair out of the trash. Once it's in the trash, it's garbage. At least, it should be. I have not fished anything out of the trash...yet. If I do, that will be an all time low, and I will need more help than just dieting.

Of course, the previous paragraph makes it seem like I only feed my children junk. I assure you, I do not. But they, like any kids, get the occasional treat, and heck, we all deserve the occasional treat. Like on Mother's Day, and my tiny slice of cheesecake. It's what we eat the rest of the time that matters, and if eating a huge salad inspires Lulu to want one of her own, then I know I've got to be doing something right.