One big fat weekend

So last night I did what most people consider the most embarrassing thing they can do. I split my pants. Yeah a huge rip that simply can't be fixed. Thank god I was at home when I did so. This morning I realized that I no longer have any jeans that fit me. (cry) So this morning, after a small but tasty breakfast, I went out, with my wonderful husband, to go shopping for jeans. 

Now next to swimsuits, there is nothing I dread shopping for more than jeans. Nothing ever fits right and it's hard finding a color and style that I enjoy. I used to like the stretch jeans. They offered a bit of nylon? elastic? woven into the fabric to make them more  form fitting and more...well...fitting. I won't buy those again. This is the third pair I've split of stretch jeans. Any non-stretch ones just wear out the knees. You think I would have learned by now. 

Well sad to say I've gained some weight (cough, cough) in the last three years. It was scary. I had to go to sizes that I don't even like to consider. I had to shop in sections I hoped to never walk into again. And I wondered what had gotten me to this point. Nearly daily trips to the vending machines? Quiet nights in front of the TV? My general lack of discipline when it comes to sweets? Any and all of the above seems to be the answer. 

So I dragged out my old notebooks, selected one, and am keeping a food journal again. It is the only thing that has ever worked for me. We'll see how it goes. But if I go up one more jeans size, I'm pretty sure I'm going to throw a tantrum that would make any two year old proud.