I'm A Weight Watcher

I'm a weight watcher...
I'm a weight watcher...
Become one now!
Dooby Doo, dooby doo

I'm pretty sure that's an old add jingle for weight watchers. It's been running through my head all day, because today I went to my first meeting. I've been flirting with the idea since May, but guilt has kept me away. Every time I would think about it, I'd think about all those people in Africa. People in Nigeria and Kenya, who live on less than a dollar a day and never have enough to eat and don't have food to give their children. They are starving; I'm over here in fat-land America paying $39.00 a month so that I can get on a plan to stop making a glutton of myself. Just doesn't seem right, you know?
Then I saw some pictures of myself at the lake. I usually don't have to look at myself because I man the camera. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't even me. Who is the fat lady with my kids? I tore up the pictures and went the next morning and paid my $39.00. I don't want to be a super model, I just want to recognize the woman in the photo. I think I'll turn my guilt into something positive. Like every time I want to take another helping, I'm going to think about those same women in Africa, and I'm gonna think, "Those women don't have food to feed their babies. You have fed all your children and have eaten what is a healthy meal for your body." Then I'm going to return thanks for my meal and pray for those who are truly hungry. Maybe, when I've reached my goal, I should send my $39.00 a month to World Hunger.
My "goal weight" is considerably more than the one Weight Watchers has down for me. I haven't weighed that since the sixth grade. And I wasn't a fat girl. Who are they kidding? My goal is the upper portion of the "healthy weight range." I haven't weighed that since I was a senior in high school (on the drill team, taking ballet, and step aerobics), but here we go! Thank goodness I'm nursing, I get more points that way.