|Picture taken May 6, 2012. AKA That other time in my life I was skinny. Hello collarbones.|
I was going strong on my Weight Watchers program for 8 weeks. I lost a total of 8 pounds. People started telling me I looked good. I fit into a size 4 dress that I haven't worn it since I was a vegan years ago. Then my family got a 24 hr stomach flu. First Oscar, then Owen, then Rob. I was sure I was going to be next, so I ate a pint of coconut ice cream to prepare. And a few other things I'm too embarrassed to say. Ok, it was Ho Hos and lemon sherbet and then I lost track. But I was going to throw it up anyway, so what did it matter?
That night, I suddenly felt really sick. I had severe stomach pains. I was sweating. I laid next to the toilet. While the cold tiles felt cool on my back, I could have done without the smell of piss. I need to clean better for times like this. As the pain got worse, I started moaning. Oscar heard me all the way from his bedroom and said, "Let it out mama. Let it out." My personal stomach flu had arrived. I was relieved my plan worked.
I crawled into bed and posted this picture on Instagram with the caption, "Stomach flu. I'm in bed trying to think of happier times. Like when we rented model boats in Central Park. That was a good idea." And in came the sympathy notes from friends. Hang in there! Feel better! So sorry! I knew what to expect over the next 24 hrs. It wasn't going to be pretty.
An hour later my suffering was over. I never threw up. I started to regret posting that picture on Instagram. And eating the ice cream. The ho-hos. The other stuff. I fell asleep and the next morning I woke feeling fine.
I never got the stomach flu, but I learned something. It was fun eating without restraint. It's been 2 weeks and I haven't stopped. Still preparing for the stomach flu I guess. In that time, my tooth has chipped, I've gained all the weight back, and People Magazine came out with their world's most beautiful people list. That issue is the worst. I couldn't resist it though. Like a giant piece of pie I know I shouldn't eat, I read the magazine cover to cover in the dentist office. I'm out of control.
I have two options. Laxatives. Lots and lots of laxatives. Or get it together. That means: walk 10,000 steps, do 30 minutes of Just Dance and eat 26 points everyday.
Since I'm too embarrassed to buy the laxatives, I'll go with option 2. See ya in 8 weeks. You better tell me I look good.
And if you're curious, I took a picture of what my belly looked like as I prepared for the stomach flu 2 weeks ago . . .