Fat Club: Weigh In Day

I’ve been to the bathroom, I’m thirsty, I’ve fed the baby, I’m wearing the same thing as last week, my pockets are empty (so is my wallet having paid for the pleasure) the baby is off my hip and I get on the scales. 

5 lbs. I’m 5lbs lighter. I experience the sort of satisfaction previously achieved by reaching the required 50% in an anatomy test. That’s right I followed instructions, I got a sneak peak of the question and it’s true, the answers were all in the book. 

I stay “to group” and in turn people’s weight change was announced. Those that “under achieved” had chance to discuss what went wrong. The culprits were many and varied; A Chinese take-away, an all inclusive holiday, a drunkenly consumed McDonald’s, an accidentally consumed large chocolate bar, and the covering all bases reply of “I just keep putting the wrong things in my mouth” at which point The Boy blows a massive raspberry and laughs hysterically. Obviously, I then lose it and sit shaking in silent laughter with tears rolling down my face. Fortunately a likeminded slimmer also finds this amusing and like the naughty kids on the back row we chuckle through the next few mins until suddenly it’s my turn. And then “Helen, 5lbs! Congratulations, tell us, what did you do?” 

Well, having been off work for 6 months and previously being a “career woman” I treated it like a new assignment at work. Like any good Junior Doctor, I had sat through an induction, been given instructions by a “consultant” (albeit a slimming “consultant”…) and had dutifully followed them. I was provided with a protocol, I didn’t have to think for myself, I was given multiple choice scenarios and selected the one closest to what I thought would give me the desired outcome. And, I had meal planned. I had meal planned like a boss. I had meal planned like someone who used to work 60 hour weeks and was currently unemployed. I had meal planned like someone who should really go back to work – although I won’t admit this to myself and certainly won’t mention this to my better half.
But what actually came out of my deeply blushing face while the quiet round of applause continued was a mumble under my breath of “I just followed the plan the really…” and rapidly the focus of attention moved on to the next slimmer…. 
So I survived, and did so feeling pretty smug on the inside and being 5lb lighter on the outside. So with a spring in my step I strode home to get planning next weeks meals, but not before rewarding myself with a sweet treat… 

Author: motherinthehouse

I am Helen, although more commonly known as “Mum" or "Doc". I have a couple of other roles along side of this. - I’m a a wife, to another junior doctor (yawn) - who specialises in willies and wee. - A daughter to a Yorkshire man and a Scottish lady, an undeniably great combo resulting an ability to be super frugal drunk. - A sister to two older brothers therefore the victim of years of 'character building' experiences. - A northerner who travelled down to the midlands for uni and never quite made it back. Yet. - A friend, to some, for over 25 years, and still can’t shake them off; at this stage they know too much. - An aunty to two boisterous nephews residing stateside, and a local niece. - A daughter- and sister-in-law; having lacked sisters growing up I'm now lucky enough to have acquired 4. - A neighbour to The Deputy, The General and their wives, amongst other retirees. - A slimmer and a swimmer, albeit neither particularly successfully just now. - A gardener, chef, cleaner, washing machine operator, carrier bag collector, and now after much persuasion (borderline bullying) and a 30 quid investment, a keen blogger! View all posts by motherinthehouse