It's a sign

I just broke one of my favorite dishes.

When I opened the gift at my bridal shower I thought, hmmm...not something I registered for, but cute.  It was four small rice bowls.  They turned out to be one of my favorite things.   Great for portion control with desserts.  Perfect for mixing babyfood and cereal.  And about a million other things.

I started out with four and now eight years later, I had two left.

Until tonight.  All because I was reaching for another Oreo.  Seriously.

I had the bowl overturned on my cup of tea (they also make great makeshift lids to keep steeping tea hot).  Instead of using caution to balance it, I reached across all the crud that is on my kitchen floor and has no permanant place, and as I struggled to get the Oreo package open--CRASH--only one bowl left.

I need to step away from the Oreos.  Normally we don't have Oreos in the house.  Just five minutes prior, this was the conversation.

Me: Next time you want to buy a treat for the kids, buy a single serving of Oreos, not the huge package.

Him: They were on sale.  The big package was like fifty cents cheaper than the small one.

Me: Yeah, but then we don't end up eating so many

Him: Well, I've only had six.

Me: Um, I've had a lot more than that.

Seriously, put down the Oreos and step away from the kitchen.

I weighed myself a few days ago.  I wasn't happy with the results.  I had lost a pound or two.

You're thinking, huh?  Isn't losing weight good?

Well, yeah,  it is.  But I've been pretty lax in my eating and exercise is slim to none.  I wanted to see an increase on the scale to motivate me to make some changes and lose this baby-belly-muffin-top.

I think breaking my dish because I was reaching for an Oreo might have done the trick.

Plus I read this blog tonight and identified with so many parts of it.  Except I have one more child, and my husband doesn't work quite such long hours.  BUT, I was inspired by her wake-up time and morning routine.  I think it's time.