Five pounds.  That’s all I’d like to loose.  Just 5.  Not 5-0.  Not 1-5.  No.  A measly f-i-v-e.  That’s all I need to get down to my wedding/pre-children weight.  But can I?  No.  What the heck am I doing wrong?  Okay, maybe it’s the lack of physical activity – but frankly, who has the time?  Perhaps it’s the little snacks I treat myself to once or twice a day – but damn – don’t I deserve it?!  Maybe it’s the daily large double-double coffee that kick starts me every morning.  Or is it simply Mother Nature and Father Time creeping up on me at once?  Perhaps.

But more than likely it’s my husband’s fault.  Yes, that’s right, I’m blaming him.  And this is why – for years he has been trying to GAIN weight.  Imagine!  You see, by nature he’s a svelte man.  Athletic, tall, high metabolism – it all equals thin.  Which he hates.  And so he’s constantly on the quest to gain a few pounds.  A second dinner for him after the kids have gone to bed is commonplace.  Bowls of chocolate ice cream smothered with hot fudge topping occur frequently.  Home baked (by him I may add – I’m taking no credit) cookies, brownies or lava cakes abound.  Chocolate bars are always kicking about.  How can I possibly be expected to resist 100% of the time?  Now, I’m not a big sweet tooth, but honestly people.  I implore you.  These are unfair circumstances.

I hear you saying “shut up and be happy it’s only five!”  But this is where it starts, doesn’t it?  Only 5 pounds this year, only 10 by next year . . . and before you know it – we’re a few years down the road and I’m in big trouble.  So I’m trying to get it in check now.  But I’m living in a chocolate factory and I’m married to Willie Wonka.