I have learned something about myself over these past few diet weeks...As much as I hate to admit it, I cannot blame Chubby Hubby for my weight gain. He and I are in this diet challenge together and he seems to be doing it without any issue what-so-ever. I am doing it, but I am complaining and I am soooo sick of sliced chicken breast and asparagus. I want wine, bread, cheese and peanut butter. Strange as it sounds I am not craving anything sweet, but he is not craving anything at all; What's wrong with this picture? I swear those tables should be turned. He is the dipper and chip lover, not me. How can Chubby Hubby have more will power than I do? Don't get me wrong, I am not cheating and I have found it challenging, but I have persevered! Perhaps I should be referring to myself as, Plump Partner, rather than calling him Chubby Hubby!

Twelve pounds and counting, I will be wearing shorts this summer; I will, I will, I will. But man a Margarita Pizza sure sounds good :~p

Never attend a Wine and Chocolate event when you are dieting! That was one of the most difficult things I have done. While everyone was drinking wine, eating tapanade, bread that looked amazing and bruschetta, I ate cucumbers. The things we do to try to be thin! Why oh why can't there just be a pill that will allow you to eat whatever you want whenever you want and a machine you can just stand on to loosen the fat and allow it to just roll off? Can one of you genius types please invent something? Speaking of machines, my friend Bambi and I went to the spa and they had this machine that was supposed to help just about everything imaginable, you were supposed to stand on it for ten minutes and let it work its' magic. There was no magic (not that I thought you fell for it, nor did we), we really just wanted to see what it was and try it out. It vibrated, but not in a good way, it actually hurt certain parts of your body that I won't go into. Let's just say, it was not a good thing, I ended up with an earache and Bambi a headache. Of course by the time we had a couple of glasses of wine we were fine, those were the days! Oh how I long for a glass of wine, a tough chewy piece of bread and cheese.

I guess it's true, size really does matter. I have now lost 10 pounds and I have been asked what I have done differently. Now, I realize I have more to lose or they would have noticed what it was, but hey, it's been noticed. Just a few more pounds and I won't be wearing double digits anymore; I'm so excited!

It's funny how when you mention you are on a diet, people tell you about the things they do to keep themselves in shape. Today I heard a new one...this guy I work with does not eat anything with a face. Now, I don't know about you but I have never seen a face on a cows butt? LOL, I have to stop thinking like that because that's how I got to where I am in the first place.

I am planning a trip to the beach and I need to be able to wear a bathing suit, I have 25 pounds to go and I sure hope the pounds go from the right places because at the moment that is not the case! Wouldn't that be my luck, I got a bust reduction and now I will lose weight and what the surgeon didn't take will go with the weight and I will have to join the itty bitty titty committy!

Putting things in perspective...I have lost seven pounds and I was disappointed with that until my chubby hubby, (soon to be hubba bubba) pointed out that I have lost seven bottles of water, of which I drink two or three each day. Then I realized, seven pounds is what some babies weigh. My pants are too big so that's a good sign. Oops, gotta go dinner is ready, fish and spinach with water, yummy.

SIZE MATTERS, SIZE MATTERS, SIZE MATTERS...I must keep reminding myself of that! Gosh I miss bread, oops, I will have none of that! I have got to stop whining, wine, oh that sounds so good, stop that!

Keeping our eye on the ball...

We must remain focused and to help us to do so, we are keeping our future bods in plain view. See us in 90-days below:

As my son said, you can do anything for a month...so chubby hubby and I are going one month with no sugar, no starches, no wine, no diet coke, none of the things we typically eat. This weekend is being spent eating all the things we fear we will crave. I actually have a piece of Chocolate Coconut Cheesecake in the refrigerator, but for some strange reason I don't have the desire to eat it. I am hoping to turn the three pounds I lost into thirty lost pounds, although truth be told I should really lose forty. Which brings me to my question of the day...While walgging (that's walking and jogging) on the treadmill for what seemed like an eternity because I forgot my headphones. When I finally stopped to move to weights, I realized it had only been fifteen minutes. Why is it when you get a massage, fifty minutes feels like ten, yet when you exercise, fifteen feels like an hour? Think of how thin we would all be if exercising was like getting a massage. Which brings me to my second question, why can't a massage therapist can't just knead fat out of you, sort of like when you squeeze the sausage out of it's skin; we can just open our mouths and fat can ooze out while we are resting comfortably listing to sounds of the ocean. Can someone out there please work on that because size matters and this is one time we want it small!

This is it...I was all dressed and ready to go the the gym when hubby told me dinner would be ready in fifteen minutes. Rather than exercise for ten, I am going after dinner. I wonder how much I will be able to do after eating pasta? It is wheat pasta with ground turkey but still. More than likely that will be my excuse for not over doing it. I love that I always have hubby to blame for my failures! I did not get the opportunity to have my oatmeal this morning because I had two new hires that kept me busy until about 11:00 with paperwork and orientation and all. I had a healthy lunch, in fact my assistant was so kind he asked them to make my portion smaller than usual because he noticed that the last time I had it, I threw a good part of it away.

Okay, I just finished my pasta and I now have a terrible case of heartburn, is that a good excuse for not exercising?

Perhaps it's like swimming and I have to wait for half an hour.

Oh this sports bra is killing me, but if I take it off I will not go. Oh poop, here goes.

Oh one last thought, I could work out until I get sick and purge the pasta I just ate, now there's a good head start, I am so clever! Bye for now.