Turning myself in.

That's it.  I'm turning myself in.  

No, my new exercise spree has not turned me into some mastermind criminal.  I am not in cahoots with the Joker, the Riddler, or any of the other "-er" villians who seem to stalk Batman.

I am turning myself in to the Weight Watchers Police.

I have been in denial for a long time; as if merely paying for my monthly WW pass would magically make the pounds that have crept onto my body magically melt away like some sort of magic wand.  I tried to pretend that making "ok" choices most of the time would get me what I want.  I even started blaming the scale . . . it was obviously wrong.  I stopped going to WW meetings.  I stopped even going to WW to weigh in.  I didn't need to go, right?  I knew what I was doing.  I could do this on my own.  Right?  Right?

Wrong!

So wrong!  

I know that WW works.  Before my wedding I was in the best shape of my life.  I felt AWESOME about myself.  After I had Lulu, I was back to WW and dropped a bunch of weight as well.  I think the problem is that I stopped working it.  I got sloppy...in my program, which resulted in sloppiness physically.

So, as of Saturday, I am turning myself in.  This time I whole heartedly feel like it'll be different.  I am not ashamed to be returning, like I have in the past.  I know that there are many, many sucessful WW'ers out there that stopped and started a bunch of times before getting it right...I'll be in good company.