south beach, round 2

With the exception of a short bout of anorexia in high school where I ended up with raccoon-like dark circles under my eyes and hair that fell out in clumps, I've never been too successful in the diet arena. (I like how I consider starving myself down to 95 pounds as a 16 year-old a diet success story.) But alas, my mid-30's are pissing me off.

I never had a problem with losing weight after my babies. I was one of those women who dropped the weight fairly quickly thanks to a breastfeeding metabolism - with Miller I was in my skinny jeans at 4 weeks postpartum. Granted, I was only 25 - practically a baby myself. With Gray I was down to my pre-pregnancy weight when he was 14 days old or something crazy like that. I'm not saying I looked the same, but my weight literally FELL off with that kid. With Everett I was 32, and by that time it took about 3 or 4 months. When he was 2 months old, I was irritated that my pants weren't fitting right, so I went on South Beach. I gave up not too long after, because I was nursing and starving constantly. A hungry Gretchen is not a happy Gretchen.

So my baby-having days are over and my breastfeeding-diet days are over, and lo and behold, I have a whole closet of clothes that are just a smidge too tight across the butt. I prefer my pants loose... I'm just not comfy otherwise. That is probably why I'm strictly a skirt-wearer in the summer. But you can't get by with skirts and flip-flops November through March, so I'm stuck with pants.

Mark and I started South Beach together this weekend and I don't think I've ever wanted a damn cookie so bad in my entire life. My idea of the perfect breakfast is two chocolate chip cookies and a Diet Coke, so needless to say, the daily egg breakfasts are about to make me gag. Eggs are good about once a week, but not 14 in a row. Give me some Cap'n Crunch, or a piece of white toast with butter. But eggs? Ugh. It doesn't help that the ONLY way I like my eggs is scrambled.

Anyway, I'm sticking with it, despite my mental starvation. My tummy isn't hungry, but my brain is FAMISHED. The other night I laid in bed and watched some show on the Food Network that was all about cupcakes until Mark came in and rescued me in my glazed-over state. Today Mark brought Everett a chocolate chip cookie home from Whole Foods and I swear I smelled (and almost licked) the bag.

I figured by posting about it, I have no choice but to stick to it. Hopefully I'll still be sane by the end of Phase 1... right now I feel a little like hopping off the ledge. And damn it, my butt had BETTER be smaller.