I thought about posting about religion in science or something smart like that, but then I thought, "Nah."
The birds are chirping. The sun is still out, thanks to Daylight Savings Time. Warmth is approaching, so it's time to talk about weight. Why? Because, I'm a woman. And that's what we do. We think about weight. A lot. I'm far better than I used to be--now I just think of it 37 times a day instead of 74 times a day.
Mike and I had "the talk" last night (again). In which we discussed having healthier habits. Since I got back from India, I've been like, "Woohoo, this food doesn't taste like crap!" Which has resulted in subsequent delicious pounds. But now, my belly is at that crucial point where it might become a Dunlap. ("My belly done lapped over my jeans...") I know, gross, right? Something must be done before bikini season. (Not that I wear bikinis.)
I was reading my grandmother's old diary the other day, about the weeks preceding when she had twin sons. Two weeks before she gave birth to twins, she weighed less than I do now. I did not get those genes, sister. I know that I'm not fat or anything, but still, give a girl a break. The shame of my skinny ancestry and my approaching trip to Moab (hello? bikini central), have urged me on to some goals.
So, Mike and I are not going to: a. Eat after 9 p.m. b. Eat more than one serving of cereal for breakfast or my 8 p.m. snack. c. Eat ice cream every day (or more than twice a week...). We are going to: a. Take lots of long, uphill walks....Umm, that's as far as we got with goals. But Moab bikini days, here I come!
Disclaimer: I know I am not fat. Please do not feel you need to post an obligatory, "Amber, you're not fat" comment in response to this post.
To get us in the mood, here's a video for you, courtesy of my friend Kelly.