It’s January. There are sales. So I’ve been re-buying stuff I already had lately (or that the kids already had as well). Things like pants. A new bathroom scale. Underwear. Bras. Socks. You know the drill…
Yes, it’s always a nice idea to do an underwear purge – and it’s helpful to have pants that don’t fall down around your ass with a sudden movement, too. But it was the bathroom scale that had both of my teenagers all giddy yesterday. (The old one gave up the ghost a few months ago; I’ve been depending on gym weigh-ins and/or doctor’s office visits to figure out just where I’ve been getting to, weight-wise ever since.)
#SheTeen was first up – loaded it up with fresh batteries & bounded on the pad with glee. “106 – I’m finally over a hundred pounds, MooooooooOOOOM!” She then looked expectantly at me – “c’mon, you go!” So I jumped on the scale (fully clothed, including Converse) & beheld a number that I was happy to see – sure, I’ve been plateauing for the last few months (or so I thought, anyway), but at least I haven’t been gaining weight, either, as the scale happily confirmed. Even with the Converse on, no less!
#HeTeen was next to catch the weigh-in fever – and when I saw his number, well – my world shifted sideways as I did some mental math calculations. Sure, he’s lighter/thinner than he’s been in a couple of years (he blames it all on me since “all you ever make for dinner is meat and some #*$*#*@ leaves!” Yes, he leaves in the profanity, just to make the point.) Sure, he has half-a-foot on me now. And sure, he’s going to take the snarky road 9 times out of 10 when joking around about the whole weighing-in process for women.
But he also now weighs more than I do – a fact that sobered us both up when I commented on it.
See, he’s always known me as the mother who’s always been bigger than he is – even when he was growing up and/or out over the last few years. And now? I’m not. Bigger than he is, no matter how you slice it physical size-wise (I’d assert that my personality is still fairly outsized in comparison). And I think we’ll need a little bit of time to let that shift sink in.
This morning, I jumped back on the scale, pre-shower (the Converse & every scrap of clothing didn’t come along for this ride) – just to make sure I hadn’t been dreaming and/or hallucinating. Um, nope – saw an even lower number that it’ll be harder for him to hit any time soon (even with the meat and/or leaves).
As of this morning, I’ve lost 42 lbs since April ’10 – including another 5 or so pounds throughout the holiday season (where, to be fair, I didn’t go off the Paleo wagon much – save for that eggnog, perhaps…)
Yes, I know it’s not just about a number on a scale – and I’m happy with all of the other metrics I’m using as well (the way clothes fit, etc.) Yes, I still have more to lose – and I’ll do so by re-adding exercise back to the mix (see, the weight-loss plateau coincided with a drastic drop in the amount of exercise I had been doing. Funny how that works, eh?)
But the fact that I’m still losing weight, still needing to replace outsized clothing* – even without exercise – is a testament to my whole ‘clean eating’ (read: Paleo) lifestyle these days. (Despite critiques from the teens about my ‘meat and twigs and branches and other crap’ meal preparation habits.)
So. I’ll be one of the January hordes ‘re-joining’ my local gym. With any luck, I’ll still be there in February, March and beyond.
‘Cause the only way #HeTeen could pass me up at this point would be by lopping off his outsized head…! (A task his sister would be oh-so-happy to assist with, depending on the day/time…)
* More on buying clothes at ‘regular people’ stores next – it’s been a pleasant revelation, it has!
[This is part of a series documenting the pleasant physical changes over the last year or so. See the preamble, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 and Part 8 for the backstory...]