Surely my Opinion Must Weigh at Least a Pound...

     It's been three weeks since I had the tiny bundle of joy that is examining my face intently while making a giant poop in my lap right now. Other than being tired, I've been feeling exceptionally well. I knew that I hadn't put on a whole lot of weight during this pregnancy and I want to continue the momentum of the weight lose pendulum. I joined Weight Watchers last week with a goal and a sense of optimism that I haven't felt for a long time. I am now 10 pounds lighter than before I got pregnant! I left the meeting with all my various papers, charts, lists, and a snazzy new calculator- all designed to get me back into skinny jeans. I tend to meet my goals/deadlines when I have transparent accountability for my actions- or lack thereof. I tried WW after having Noelle four years ago, but I did it online and did not have the same feeling of responsibility when I weighed in and the scale showed similar numbers week after week. This time around, I'm doing the lame meetings (they give you stickers for reaching certain goals. Seriously. Noelle and I can display our sticker collection on the fridge together) and I'm going to have a total stranger weigh me and give me honest numbers from a scale not rigged to weigh five pounds lighter. I'm also going to share my weight here- the actual number I weigh, not just the amount I shed every week. Tomorrow I go in for my weekly weigh-in. I was 172 pounds last Monday. (I feel like I just did a virtual gut-suck right there.) But numbers don't lie. And neither do skinny jeans. Wish me luck, and for the love of God, hide all the chocolate tomorrow. Please.