This morning I blearily climbed out of bed. At 7:20. It was awesome. It was a school holiday. (Hooray Labor Day!) I stumbled into the living room and scrunched up on one end of the couch as I am wont to do.
Then I remembered it was actually Monday and not Sunday and I should probably weigh myself before I ate copious amounts of Labor Day food.
So I did.
I walked into the bathroom where we house the scale and I stripped down to my skivvies (because, you know, a nightgown adds AT LEAST a half a pound. At least.)
OH. MY. GOD.
That is a pound and a half LESS than I weighed when I got pregnant with Joshua.
I am officially below my pre-pregnancy weight.
This is the least I’ve weighed in two years.
Looks like my vow to stay away from Moe’s for a weekend paid off. I skipped the burritos and lost an extra pound.
Here’s the thing.
I FEEL skinnier. I do. I’m quite certain that no one is actually able to tell that I’ve lost even so much as a pound, but I FEEL smaller. And that’s worth a mint to me.