H's birthday weekend was just amazing, from a friends and family perspective.
A joyfully embarassed H at Brasserie Beck. We sang to him. All 12 of us.
From a #healthyme and Weight Watchers perspective, both H and I tracked up Saturday's points reluctantly, but were both still on point. Deeeeeeep into our "extra points," but on point.
So I jumped on the scale this morning, curious. Out of a scientific sort of curiosity. "I was so excessive this weekend, I wonder if it'll show up in the scale numbers. I bet it does."
And what I saw - just a little bit up from Thursday's WI - showed me that sound, scientifically based hypothesis was right.
So I got dressed, kissed The Beans and H, and drove to work. I got my ham & cheese croissant and coffee (I can still stay on point for the day when I do it, but I need to break the habit), and drove to work with the knowledge that I have a training session tomorrow (I earn extra points), yoga Wednesday morning (more extras), and that I'm already jonesing the fruits and veggies I didn't eat this weekend (or do the best strawberry cupcakes in the world count? They're made with fresh strawberries?).
Then I saw the numbers from the scale again in my mind's eye.
Last Thursday's weigh-in (before H's birthday weekend): 163.1
I'd seen the .7, perhaps, and just flipped the numbers in my mind.
I cried. On the WW Online community, there's been a lot written recently about how the plan works, and how we need to trust it. I've believed pretty much from Day 1.
So I cried.
I cried because H was so happy this weekend. Part of what made his weekend was "my hot wife." When I asked him his favorite part of the weekend (3 days of surprises, family, friends, food, drinks, and joy), he said, "having my hot wife walk around in her dress."
I had to ask him "what was your favorite part of the weekend that wasn't about me? Because if you can't come up with something, I did it wrong." He had an answer, and it's important in another forum.
But really, I'm on an exhausted high this morning (see mention of ham & cheese croissant above), and just need a vacation. The weekend was perfect for all sorts of reasons. So perfect that my crazily active little boy fell asleep in my lap yesterday. Which he hasn't done in, oh, about a year and a half.
And, in large part, I have WW to thank. Happy Birthday, my love.
[End of May 7th post. Now, here's today, May 23]
Fast forward to yesterday. If you saw my tweets and Instagram posts, you know.
The gym scale (I peeked, 2 days before my official WW weigh in) says I’m at the same number I was 2 days before our wedding on June 16, 2006 (or is it 17? Seriously. Neither H nor I can remember.)
And because of that number, I decided to try on my wedding dress last night.
I got home to pretty much cheers of jubilation, “Mama! Mama! Mama!” and asked our nanny to hang out for a few minutes, and didn’t tell her why.
I slipped into the dress.
I swear it went on more easily than it did 6 years ago.
She almost cried. (Have I mentioned how amazing she is?)
And then I made her take pictures.
Someone said it's adoration. It might be "Mama's crazy." #happymama
Dancing with my beans to Beastie Boys 6 years after marrying their Papa in the same dress? Priceless #healthyme #shoutingfromtherooftops
I indulged myself and The Beans with episodes of Imagination Movers and Little Einsteins while they ate dinner and I a snack. And then I pulled out the wedding pictures.
The picture (dancing at our wedding) that reminds me #happymama
I “let” them stay up to look at pictures. “Mama laffing!” “Papa laffing!” “Dra-pop!” “Dra-mom!” they exclaimed. We had a lot of fun at our rehearsal. A lot. We looked through all the pictures of our rehearsal and the ceremony. I saved the “party pictures” for tonight.
I was in a marvelous mood last night. Happy to the point of tears. Getting back into that dress triggered all sorts of things: joy, love for my family, memories, and reminders of why H and I married in the first place.
It’s a solid reminder, my stylish friends, of why clothes really are connected to meaning in our life.
Oh yeah, and I’m wearin’ a bathing suit this weekend down tha shore. And I’ll look better than I did on our first honeymoon down tha shore with my mother-in-law and her girlfriends.