Upping the Score!

I am giving myself a 0.5 for this week so far! But, maybe, just maybe, I should pay more attention to classic colloquialisms like: do not count your chickens before they hatch...and wow, the irony is thick in that one.

Jungle Baby and I are figuring out this idea of co-habitation day-by-day. I have been eating like a queen, to the point that my friends even notice and chuckle about it (in front of me) and that is just fine with me. For the past couple of days, I have learned that Jungle Baby loves gallo pinto and apples. But, hates ginger ale and the smell of fried chicken. (Ah, just thinking about fried chicken gives me the urge to run to the bathroom.) If there is a problem with eating rice, please, do not tell me. Rice and beans are my saving grace these days, plus, raw ginger.

Here is what I have mastered:
Remember the morning routine discussed before, well it works like a charm. I wake, insert saltines, water and fruit juice and get myself moving. I walk on the beach, usually, and take a lot of deep breaths, stretch a bit and return home. I end my walk before I really want to, just to beat SICK-ALL-THE-TIME before it creeps up on me. So, when I get home, insert more saltines and hopefully an apple or pineapple. Then, I begin to cook an insane amount of gallo pinto. The amount I cook could and should serve about five people, but I am two now. So, I eat appropriately. Those of you who know me well, you know that eating is not a problem for me. In fact, feedings are serious events. Now, just the idea of having two hearts and two stomachs and so on, just fuels the fire. I eat! And, I eat!

It is really funny, how much I eat now. The other night I went out for pizza with my man and Amanda. Typically my man and I share a pizza. Amanda joked, "So, are you going to order your own pizzas now?" And, I hadn't thought about it yet, but yikes! "Yes!", I said and then tried to do the math. Oh No! This was going to be a problem. You see, my man can eat an impressive amount too. And he is suffering his own version of Couvade Syndrome (the male's version of cravings, aches and pregnancy woes) and has developed the ability to consume an even-larger amount of food. (Side Note: He joked about this idea before and then found out that it has some credibility and now uses this newfound "syndrome" to condone the consumption of anything and everything in front of him!) OH NO! How in the world are we going to be able to go out to eat with these new changes? Some day soon, I am going to have to learn how to cook.  Well, some day, let's not rush the changes in my life!

So, instead of two pizzas, we ordered a large salad and one pizza. The fact that I continue to forget is that I get really full, really fast. I am not used to this at all. I usually inhale my incredibly large amount of food and then deal with the ill-after effects. (I once learned that Muhammed Ali ate two large meals when in training and I liked that idea. So, I have followed his dietary lead for years.) But, now the ill-after effects are not worth it. The current effects involve pain in my stomach and typically a visit to the toilet. So, I go slow. I get full. I get frustrated. I take a "to go" bag and wait for  the hunger to return. Then, hit repeat!

So, as I saunter into Week 9, I am feeling better and better. AND, I am getting a belly! I am not making it up. I wore a tight white shirt last night, and I could tell (my mom reminds me that this is all in my head, but she is miles away), my friends could tell, my man could tell. I do not have a waist like I used to, my hips are bigger and I can squeeze a little love handles on the sides.

Photos coming tomorrow!