When we went away on vacation, my husband and I said we weren’t going to obsess about what we ate. It’s a vacation, we were going to throw a little caution to the wind. And so, I kind of tossed aside my Weight Watchers ethos, along with that dreaded points calculator, and said I’m just going to do what I want… what I feel. And I did. Sometimes that meant a salad but mostly it meant: pepperoni pizza and antipasto chopped salads from Buca di Beppo, a Butterfinger Blizzard from Dairy Queen, hummus, lemon rice and pork souvlaki from Dask’s, biscuits & gravy from Denny’s, a BLT with french fries. The list goes on and on.

So imagine my surprise upon returning home to realize that I actually lost weight on my vacation! I mean, really! Three whole pounds! How the heck does that happen?

I’ve been thinking about it now since Wednesday morning when I made my official weigh-in, and here’s how it went down:

I had one slice of pepperoni pizza at both meals at Buca along with a reasonable serving of salad as well; I barely ate half of my small-sized Blizzard; I had a couple of pieces of pita with the hummus, about one-fourth the serving of rice and about one-half the serving of souvlaki at Dask’s; I never did finish the biscuits & gravy from Denny’s (they just weren’t that good); I polished off the BLT but went easy on the fries…

Aha! Portion control! It is now mine! I get it. I really get it! Two months on Weight Watchers and I now know that I don’t have to clean my plate. If something doesn’t taste pleasurable to me, I shouldn’t eat it! If I’m starting to feel full, I should stop eating! If the portion looks like enough food to feed a family of four, it probably could feed a family of four so I should reign myself in. And you know what? It’s not necessary to believe that every time I sit down to eat something “sinful” that it means it’s my last time to eat something “sinful” and so I should please, for the love of God, show some restraint.

And I did. I showed restraint. And I didn’t even know it. And now, I’m walking around town in my beloved Paige Premium Denim jeans that I keep having to hike back up because they are sliding off of me. And I am so happy.

Just nine more pounds to go. Nine!

Weight Watchers: I’m sorry I ever made fun of you and your unfortunate name. You are nothing short of genius. Thank you!