weight loss

posted on June 24, 2015 by elizabeth

Slimming Shenanigans Week 239

I have a little over four months until my 30th birthday and with it comes my deadline to reach target at Slimming World.

I’m half way there and I should be feeling pretty good about things but I’m not, I’m just fed up.

I haven’t been to class in weeks and I’ll have to officially rejoin tomorrow. Truthfully, I’ve lost count of the amount of take-aways I’ve had over recent days – it’s not looking good.

The only difference this time is: I’m not giving up. I’ll go back tomorow and stand on the scales of shame – my name for them not the group’s – and I’ll dust myself off and try and remember why I’m doing this.

At this stage, I don’t really remember. I’ve asked the ridiculous amount of cheese in the fridge the same question and it’s less than helpful; it just keeps saying things like: “What the hell do I know? I’m cheese.” and “Have you taken your tablets today?”

You don’t even want to know what that sexy bitch ‘chocolate’ is saying. The temptress.

Running is also a nonstarter. I’ve been on two runs in the last two weeks and they were less than entusiastically undertaken.

In an attempt to add some glamour to the exercise I decided to ramp up the inspirational music. Shuffle landed on the ever-annoying ‘Let it go’ and I went with it (don’t judge me).

I was getting to my big finale when I got caught up in the moment and flailed my arms out for my Elsa pose, hitting an unsuspecting dog walker in the face in the process.

NO GOOD COMES FROM ME EXERCISING!!!

So tomorrow I’ll head back to class in the hope that I’ll get my mojo back, but tonight I will eat all the chocolate in the house while looking at inspirational intagram quotes and cry, Any takers? Your loss.

posted on February 13, 2015 by elizabeth

Slimming Shenanigans: Week 1

A week after Bosco came screaming into the world I found myself, once again, standing in a room full of strangers and about to brave an instrument of torture: scales.

I rejoined the local Slimming World group and decided to start taking my ‘Fit for Thirty’ pledge seriously. Although I hadn’t put on a massive amount of weight this time around – I was two-and-a-half stone lighter compared to when I was pregnant with Bear – I wanted to get back to where I was pre-pregnancy as soon as possible.

As running is out of the equation until six weeks after the section, my only way to get there is in the kitchen. I’m in no way a domestic goddess (my old work colleagues can vouch for my miserable attempt at soup) but I do enjoy cooking with my music up full blast. I sort of just make things up as I go along.

I’ve followed the plan before and found it really accessible – and more importantly: it worked for me! I didn’t feel deprived and there are a lot of recipes and ideas online. The best place to find support though is from my friend Emma. She is is so close to target and great at keeping you focused, especially on days when you really can’t be bothered.

So, this week I did my best to stick to plan. It was going well until Sunday dinner ended up being a charred mess and I settled for a 12 syn lunch of two glasses of wine. I’m not going to lie, it was pretty tasty.

I know my main downfall is going to be my return to alcohol. Despite having a lovely repaired liver thanks to pregnancy, I’m very much looking forward to falling spectacularly off the sobriety wagon. I’m not lucky enough to actually enjoy drunk people’s company; I’m in the ‘if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em’ camp.

Yesterday was my first official weigh in back on plan and it was a shocker. I had 11lbs off. Clearly quite a lot of that is still pregnancy fluid but it was nice to hear none-the-less! I got my 1/2 stone award and I’ve already brokered a deal with Conor that I get a new Pandora charm for every stone I loose. He’s feeling pretty cheated right now.

Looking at the week ahead, I had a day off plan for an early Valentine’s Day (there was a lot of chocolate consumed) and we have a wedding on Saturday – I can feel the hangover already. It’s going to be a difficult one but it would be so good to get those 3lbs…

Any words of wisdom are welcome!

posted on January 1, 2015 by elizabeth

The Toddler Diet

Before you start juicing that fruit and boiling up cabbage for soup I want to introduce you to a revolutionary new diet regime: The Toddler Diet.

It’s a simple, life changing diet that will leave you hungry, irritable, unsatisfied but thinner!

All you need is a toddler to sit with you for every meal you attempt to eat – it’s that easy!

Since Oliver started eating solids properly, he hasn’t been satisfied with what is on his plate. It has to be whatever is on his, mine, his Dad’s, the stranger’s sitting at the table next to us and so on.

It’s because of this (coupled with the perpetual guilt I feel if I don’t give him what’s on my plate in case he starves) that I now have an enviable figure*

*Enviable in this instance means I look like a Weeble and shuffle around like one too.

So if you want to lose weight fast and be just like me, all you just have to follow these three easy steps.

1. Get a toddler (mine is available for hire).

Make sure it’s not one of those fussy eating types or you will end up putting on weight by mindlessly eating their leftovers when clearing the table after meals – just me? Ok, never mind.Another important trait needed in your toddler is complete clinginess; that way you can’t secretly snack while they are independently playing.

This kid also needs to be able to hear the rustle of a chocolate wrapper or the opening of a biscuit tin from 20 feet.

This is a skill Oliver has down to a fine art.

Even when I check I have the all-clear and he’s playing with his trains, all I need to do is think about a biscuit and he’s standing beside me with that look,

It’s a look that says: “You should eat fruit, we both should; but we both know you’re going for that biscuit tin and you’re sadly mistaken if you think I’m going to let you eat one and not give at least half to me. I’m not afraid to scream.”

2.Eat at the table.

Never mind the social aspect of doing this, this is really so everything on your plate is within reach of their chubby little hands.

Remember to give them a fork so if you’re tempted to move your plate out of reach they can use this tool to drag things off your plate.

If they can’t reach it they will have a handy contingency plan of screaming blue bloody murder until you relent.

3.Leave all will power at the door.

Don’t bother starting each meal with renewed resolve to eat a complete meal on your own, it won’t last (see perpetual guilt above).

And that’s that.

After a few months of this the pounds will drop off and with only a few real side effects (loss of sanity, inability to eat a complete meal without looking over your shoulder and eating ridiculously hot food resulting in the burning of your tongue before the toddler can reach the table).

This convenient new lifestyle change is available today, so what are you waiting for?

posted on September 26, 2013 by elizabeth

A Weighty Issue

It’s always best to air on the side of caution when talking to a female about her weight – especially when she’s pregnant.
Your father did not do this.
For the last few weeks of my pregnancy he took to calling me ‘The Incredible Hulk’ because I kept knocking things over.
This was usually followed by him shouting ‘Liz smash’ then laughing.
I did not laugh.

Your poor cousin Fionnuala was forever being knocked down by me because her head was at perfect bump height.
If she suddenly disappeared it wasn’t totally unexpected to find her lying on the ground knocked from her feet simply because she stood too close to me.

Navigating through a crowded restaurant was also a challenge. I thought if I made my voice sound really tiny I would seem smaller and clearly fit through.
Funnily enough this didn’t work.
Another high point was getting stuck in a booth in a sandwich shop.
Oh how your Dad laughed.
Again, I did not.
I gave up counting the number of times I was asked if I was carrying twins and accepted the fact I was actually going to give birth to Godzilla.

So you can imagine my surprise when the Health Visitor was concerned that you were underweight.
My son, who couldn’t physically fit into ‘New Born’ clothes from his first day on the planet, was deemed underweight by her chart.
What? I mean What?
Despite my utter disbelief at this, I was told to bring you to the doctor to make sure there were no ‘underlying’ problems.
I told her why I was there and she couldn’t help but laugh.
Saying as the most common words used to describe you are: ‘sturdy’ and ‘bruiser’ I can’t really blame her for her reaction.
You were fine.
I was told to trust my judgement and not let a stranger’s chart tell me what weight you should be.

You’re healthy, you’re thriving and so what if complete strangers think you’re 10 months old when you’re not even half that?
Poor malnourished baby that you are.

Talking and thinking about weight is something that I will never escape from and the last thing I want to do is pass this habit on to you, so I’ll make you a deal:
If you ever catch me in the kitchen on the second day of a diet, shoving my whole face into a week-old cheesecake as I sob, don’t let on and I’ll buy you a pony.

Love Always,

Mum

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