When I went back to the states in April (for my daughter's wedding & a whirlwind tour of the US) I got on the bathroom scales.
Sweet jesus I whispered (because the grandkids repeat everything you say) - appalled at how much I weighed. I then promptly went on to eat my way through the US. Then I came back to AU, got dooced and went back to the US for 5 more weeks of extended eating and managed to pack on a few more kilos.
In July I started a new job, in August I started Weight Watchers. I've reached the age where I can no longer starve myself for a few weeks and drop 10 kilos. I have also reached the point in my life where I can afford to buy the "good" butter, but my ever expanding waistline doesn't allow me to indulge as I have in the past.
The husband and I have developed a pattern over the last few weeks. I plan out the menus for the week, he does the grocery shopping. I cook, he helps me clean up. Just starting on to week 3 of the plan and I have managed to drop almost 2 kilos. We spend more money on groceries (lots of fresh veg and fruit - the economists that spout "buy in season" haven't been grocery shopping for a while, it's all bloody expensive). The husband is on the plan by default. We both feel better, but jesus tapdancing christ, it's a rough slog.
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