In a few months we are going take the girls to the Outer Banks in North Carolina. We haven't had a proper family vacation in a few years, and C doesn't even remember the ocean really, so I thought it was time. 

Having said that, since the first of the year I have tried to put myself on sort of a "diet" (no one want to see THIS body on the beach…) Anywho, I began by taking myself off of pop. I had grown to accustomed to drinking at least one large Coke a day and I'm sure it has more than contributed to these 30 (or so) extra pounds I've put on. I did really well for the first few weeks, even dealing with the headaches and irritability caused by caffeine withdrawal. 

Then, one day there was a water main break in our town and they put the everyone on a boil advisory. Suddenly, I was extremely thirsty for a delicious, icy Coca Cola! Now, I know there's no real excuse, but like any other addict I was able to internally rationalize that one little Coke wouldn't hurt. It's been a week now and while I can't say that I haven't had other moments of weakness in the pop department, I am (almost) back on the wagon. As for the "eating better" portion of this "diet" thing (did I forget to mention that?), I'd have to say that I've fallen off. And when I say "fallen off", I mean I've taken a nose-dive off the wagon and lay on the road being repeatedly run over by said wagon.

I've found myself cooking fatty, delicious casseroles (there were vegetables in there, so that helps, right?) and baking cakes (with oatmeal in there, mind you). If you know me, this is an odd, odd thing. I don't cook. I don't enjoy cooking. I'm really, really bad at cooking! I don't know what's gotten into me (well, besides the fatty, yummy goodness of course).

I must do better. 
Step one: Buy a scale.  
Step two: Make those numbers go down!

Wish me luck!

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