As you might recall, I joined Weight Watchers. I've lost a total of 7 pounds in the last month or two. Sure it's no "Jared from Subway" results, but the reality is that I already weigh a little less than I did when I got pregnant, and only a pound or so more than what I did when I got married a few years ago. And the fact is, I'm pretty comfortable at this weight. I'm currently wearing what were known as my "Pre Murph Skinny Pants"
That's not to say that I wouldn't like to drop a few more pounds and get into a range I haven't seen in years. But that isn't what this is about.
This is about why I love the Chief.
Chiefy didn't care if I lost any weight or not. He was still calling me Sassy McGoo as I waddled into the hospital ready to deliver.
But he has been SO encouraging in my weight loss efforts. So much so that he joined WW with me (He proceeded to drop about 15 pounds in 2 weeks, but I'll try not to hold that against him) and now looks up healthy recipes to make for supper.
He has complimented me on my new slimmer body more times lately than I can count. But even in those compliments he infuses his own personal style, and is able to make me laugh. Let me give you a couple of examples of his new terms of endearment.
Chicken Neck (I guess a pound or two dropped off there)
Skinny Minnie (never in my LIFE has this name been applied to me! My sister, but never me!)
Flat Butt (For someone whose college nickname was Rump Shaker, well that's huge)
But my favorite is Bobble Head. He claims that my body is shrinking and that my head will soon just bobble along (he emphasizes this with head bobbing motions)
Last night he told our middle boy that he wanted to kick me in the butt and see how long my head shook like a little dog in a car window.
God love the Chief!