Eating My Way Fat

"I'm gaining weight the old-fashioned way: I'm eating too much."

That would be my commerical for Jenny Craig, Weight Watchers, or The Biggest Loser. Right now I feel like I could be a walking "before" ad for any of these fine establishments.

This morning I stared at the scale and saw a number that is my "Holy Crap! Who's standing behind me pressing down with their toe?" weight. This is the number that I saw when I was "going up", rightfully so, during pregnancy and one I saw when I was "going down", when I was making every attempt to look un-pregnant after I wasn't. Somehow, my weight, as of late, has looked like a revolting line chart in a business with completely erratic earnings.

And, as I've expressed in previous posts, I haven't even hit the high-eating zone of the year yet. That commenced with The Texas State Fair, which kicked off this weekend.

Fortunately for me, unless Julia Child returns from the dead and pronounces this year's stomach-acid-producing, cholesterol-raising assault, FRIED BUTTER, a "gastronomic tour de force", that's one less thing I'll be eating at the Fair.

Corn dogs? Can take 'em or leave them*.

My downfall? Turkey legs, cotton candy, candy apples, and funnel cakes. I'd participate in a a girl fight in the baking barn if they'd actually allow spectators to try the baked goods that are entered into the contests. Most of those recipes would make Paula Deen's baking look skimpy in the butter department.

Sadly, there just isn't enough walking to be had at the Fair to warrant the lack of restraint I've been known to show on Fair Day.

So, this year, I'm trying a new tactic. I'm going to drink. Water**. And I'm going to let my boys enjoy whatever makes their hearts sing. Yes, I'll be jealous. Yes, I'll be cranky. But, hey, at least I won't gain any more weight.

Because I really don't like that Jillian woman on Biggest Loser. She's a little too much like Hitler, but with boobs and no mustache***.

And if I end up needing her, I end up in a two-piece workout uniform on the TV.

Frankly, I like my friends too much to make them throw up.


*Yeah, I'm wierd. I'd rather gnaw on a turkey's skinny legs than a pig's snout/butt/whoknows. OK, maybe NOT so wierd.....

**If you instantly thought "She means booze", go to the head of the line. I stopped in Baptist land for quite a while but I've been back in the land of drinkers ever since.

***Though she may know someone who does a hellacious wax job.....