two parties in one day (lyn)

Maintenance is not easy.  In fact, losing weight is easier than maintaining it.  First, it is not as much fun.  No one comments anymore (why should they?).  It’s no longer as exciting. (“Congratulations, you lost 2.3 pounds this week,” vs. “Great job, you are only up .3 pounds.” ). And, I’m more relaxed about eating (which is nice, but sometimes it’s difficult to know the boundaries of relaxed eating).  I do have my scale and my size 28 Paige jeans (that feel smaller than my size 27 Lucky Brands) to keep me grounded.

Today is a particularly trying day, but I make a decision in the morning.  I’ll be good all day, but splurge in the evening.

Karen and Tim have the neighbors over for a little afternoon good-bye party.  I still can’t believe they are returning to Ireland.  The movers will be here Tuesday, but I keep thinking that a miracle will intervene and Tim will get a job here.  I know that is not going to happen, but still, I dream. I bring my own coffee and avoid the tempting cookies.

Adam is 30 today.  This too, is hard to believe.  I’ve always had a special bond with him.  Perhaps because he was the first baby born among my two sisters and me.  I remember flying in from Chicago and holding him for the first time when he was just three weeks old.

And when he was three, my sister let him fly with me to Boston, a few days before Thanksgiving.  M and I had dinner at a nearby restaurant and we took Adam with us.  Even then, he was charming all the waitresses.  He has always been fun.  And loyal.  And smart.  And athletic.  And kind. Like his brothers Jason and Michael, with zero ostentation, he owns every room he enters.   

Now at thirty, Adam exhibits all the traits he had at three. He’s grown from a cute little boy to a drop-dead-gorgeous adult.

Tonight 13 of us go out to celebrate Adam’s birthday.  My sister has chosen (as she always does) a great restaurant, BLT Prime.  I overeat on one gigantic popover, tuna tartare, a 16 ounce strip steak (but I do take half home), creamed spinach, a blue cheese tater-tot, a dollop of green jalapeno mashed potatoes, asparagus, and multiple desserts that we all split.  I leave feeling 10 pounds heavier.  But the laughter and warmth more than compensate for every caloric bite.


We get home and Alexander, who is heavily into fantasy football, says, “You know, if I had to choose a fantasy family, the one I have is the one I’d choose.”  I could not agree more.