The hips don't lie.

I'm guessing the scale at my doctor's office doesn't either.

In the very vague recesses of my memory, I remember stepping on to a scale at my doctor's office when I was 20. I remember the number flashed: 138. I remember the nurse looking at my chart, nodding, and saying "Good job, honey."

See, I'd been over 200 in high school. But I worked hard. I ate high carbs and no fat and walked. I got down to a size 6. The .perfect. size 6. And I maintained it. But then pregnancy came.

And it ate me.
I swear, that's the only explanation.

So I'm on South Beach. Starting today. And, by golly, I'm going to hear a nurse say "Good job, honey", again. If it's the last thing I do.

Starting weight (the day I came home from the hospital with my baby girl last fall: 207
Weight today: 205 (Sob.)

Bring it on.