First, since you are most likely wondering – I have not lost ANY weight since I began this journey – yesterday. I know this because every time I am able to forget about eating for a few minutes or my tummy starts to rumble, I dash upstairs into the bathroom to weigh myself (completely aware that the very act of *racing* may even be contributing to shedding big pounds). But alas, nothing yet. Feeling discouraged – as well as looking for a way to occupy my salty crunchy chip deprived fingers of action, I decided to implement a reward system.
Ever since an old friend told me about her parenting tricks of sticking toddler tylenol into her children’s sippy cups during trips to the mall and outright bribery for good behaviour when company came over, I have been attracted to the benefits of rewards (For the record, this was not the parenting philosophy I chose to adopt for my own kids. I simply beat them for bad behaviour. Way more efficient). I am goal-oriented and am motivated by progress. But mainly I just like getting stuff. So today’s challenge was to work out. Tough, I have both boys home and oodles of laundry.
Solution: Race up the stairs and back down again, frantically carrying piles of clean on way up, disgusting & dirty on the way dow. This took 45 minutes I kid you not. Without the frequent twitter breaks, at least 7. I am spent. If I had enough energy I would go weigh in but I am avoiding the third floor until bedtime now.
And now the fun begins: Reward time: I haven’t settled on a system yet. A treat for every 5 pounds? I like electronics, especially the ones with cute little non-edible apples on them. I also like shoes, purses, belts. Basically I do not discriminate on cow parts, I like ’em all (yes, I do realize that is part of the problem). But I also like things that hang on walls. Lately, I have discovered so many new (to me) artists whose work I greatly admire.
Normally, I do try to live by example. I would never suggest this approach to my kids. But my kids aren’t sluggish unhealthy sad sacks of sludge and fat like me. Thankfully. I think being mildly frightened of me at times keeps them out of the house a fair bit, running away from their big mean mommy. Better than drugging them, I say! What tricks do you use??