Week 14

 

Core blimey Mary Poppins; it’s a 2½ pounds loss this week! And I have absolutely no idea why. I walked less, swam less, ate more and drank more and consequently prayed more before I got on the scales.

A higher intake of alcohol or food, I believe, can always be blamed on either friends or hormones or both.  Let us start with friends and how they can lure you into drinking.  Last Friday I was invited by my lovely friend Val to go to hers for a sleepover after another friends ‘Pampered Chef Party’ in Chertsey.  A night of freedom without the family was just perfect.  One bottle of fizzy wine packed in the bag for when we got back from the cookery demonstration, to be consumed in piggy jammies whilst watching David Attenborough.  Plan in place.

So off we went to Chertsey first.  From the moment we set foot into the P. Chef party it became apparent that this was not going to be just a normal cookery demonstration.  In fact, a quick scan across the room and into the kitchen revealed a whole surface of open wine bottles in every colour which made me think we had arrived at a wine tasting instead.  Within moments I had a full large glass in my hand and was ready to play. It just would have been so rude not to.

It wasn’t long after our arrival, that the P. Chef lady began her cookery demonstration.  She was constantly adjusting her notes and pitch to utilise the full marketing potential of her audience by incorporating the fact that over half of the group were pickled and also devoid of any cooking ability.  Still, I think that the evening was a wonderful success all round as lots of happy, boozy people and lots of order forms being filled in.  And on top of everything else, I learnt that smiley faces wouldn’t burn in a stoneware tray.

So back to Val’s for the sleepover after consuming at least 3 large glasses of wine at the party only then to follow it all up at midnight by opening the bottle of bubbly wine and eating a bowl of pasta in front of ‘Africa’. Perfick.  See what I mean, friends are such a terrible influence.

So moving onto hormones. I suppose that I could blame it on low blood sugar from the night before but I 'know' it was a combination of hormones as well.  By 3 o’clock the next day I had the most unimaginable cravings and found myself engaged in a full on fridge raid. I can only liken the experience to one of Dawn French’s fabulous scenes in the Vicar of Dibley where she came face to face with a chocolate fountain and her famous words were "I am going in" as she placed her head in the middle of the cascading chocolate.  Well, in a similar fashion, I swung the fridge door open and dived in.  Nothing was safe, especially the wine and the cheese.  Blinkered, I was oblivious to the Slimming World stickers on the front of the fridge and like a tsunami, I became an unstoppable, an out of control force..... "‘NASA’ I think we have a problem".    And yet still I lost weight this week.  Maybe my raids now are nowhere near as destructive as they used to be or maybe subconsciously something is sinking in or maybe, heaven forbid, it will all show in next weeks weigh in. In which case I may have to pray a little harder.

So just before we close this week my little chicka dees, I have a little abstract thought for you.  Last week we discovered that our Beano had fleas.  Easy to treat by applying a few drops of frontline to the back of his neck.  So simple. So why, oh, why has somebody not yet invented a similar treatment for nits? Any mums that have engaged in the involuntary sport of nit extraction will know exactly where I am coming from.   

So....drum roll please.... Twenty six pounds lost, forty four pounds and counting. Sx