bigfoodiemama

The month after Christmas ( to the tune of T'was the Night Before Christmas) 'Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse. The stuffing I'd nibbled, the turkey I'd taste The yummies I'd eaten gone straight to my waist. The wine and the mince pies, the bread and the cheese I should have just said, "No thank you, please". So as I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt, I couldn't believe my bottom and belly - the girth! I said to myself, as only I can, "You can't spend the year disguised as a man!" So away with the last of the sour cream dip, Get rid of the fruitcake, every cracker and chip. Every last bit of food that I like must be banished 'Til all the additional ounces have vanished. I won't have a cookie, not even a lick. Instead I'll chew on a long celery stick. I won't have Irish coffees, or chocolates or pie, I'll munch on a carrot and quietly I'll cr...

On Tuesday evening last, the Mad One, the Stunner and myself headed off to the new craze diet class in a local GAA hall. Each of us for many years has fought the flab via various methods ( WW, ignoring it, coffee and fags, the soup diet, grapefruit diet, cabbage diet etc. etc. etc.) We wanted to try something new with the moral support of each other so off we went.We arrived into an oestrogen stuffed room to be greeted by the leader, a Duracell Bunny type, who asked if we would like tea or coffee !? She advised us to sit with the numerous other "newbies", complete the usual form and take a seat as the class was about to begin. Our previous experience of classes has involved a sedate 20 minute general talk, with a "good luck for the week ahead" and off you go.......not so this time. Name by name, the bouncing leader went through every woman in the room and advised us all of her weight loss or gain, congratulating or berating in turn. Excuses were cast forward onto he...