Attn: Walmart Shoppers

I must admit I'm not a typical Walmart shopper. I don't mean that in any sort of derogatory fashion, I just don't much like the store. There are always SO many people running around, shoving carts into people, racing to get that everyday low price. As if it's going to go anywhere. I was not impressed at all with the very little amount of organic products they offered.  And the 'regular' veggies they offered looked horrendous. I really am spoiled by farmers markets, for sure. It's a bit funny how people are all about Made in the USA products until they hit the produce section (or any other grocery section for that matter), and then they're all about made in the South America or New Zealand or everywhere else products. But THAT is an entirely different rant altogether.

Last night, I was out & about searching the town for a scale. Oh, the dreaded scale. I had scaled (punpunpun!) several stores and hadn't found anything particular I liked. So - I ventured to the surely-to-have-it megastore. And they did. *cue heavenly music* In fact, almost any type of scale your heart desires. I decided on their most expensive version (surprise, surprise) that measures body fat, body hydration, and your weight (whew). Introducing:
The Health O Meter Professional Body Fat Monitoring Scale. Da da da!! Looking at it in the store there are also 4 buttons where 4 people can measure/store each of their information. Eureka! And there's four of us in my family. How perfect is that? Of course, the magnitude of this decision didn't hit me until we made it home and started with the programming.

My husband sets it down on the floor and I begin reading the instructions to him. Hit this button, enter height, hit this button, enter goal, etc etc etc.  He goes through himself, our two boys, and then it's my turn. With these three sets of eyes looking at me wondering why my mouth is no longer moving. It's then, I finally realize I would have to show them my weight on the scale in order to get it programmed. WHAT?! So what if this man has loved me for 16 years, as soon as he sees that number it's SPLITSO! And my boys? They might just har-har-har and run out & scream that embarassing weight to the heavens so all the neighbors would hear. The horrrrror!! I know, I know. None of this would ever happen, but that's exactly where my mind went in a period of about 4 seconds. I ended up telling them that I'd do it myself today since we had just eaten dinner and even the slightest variation would surely send me into a sad state. I also realized this morning that any of our visitors could check out our scale while here and easily tell which button/weight is mine. Right.  It looks like this scale will be put up when company comes over.

And now, while typing this blog, a bit of anxiety hit me with what is the realization that I will soon be typing out my weight on this very page for the world (or at least myself) to see every single day. I'm trying to embrace this as a good thing, however. That it will symbolize the last hurrah for that weight. An adieu to that number. An adios to the scale wanting to TILT! Danger, Wil Robinson! A complete bon voyage to ever waddling around at this weight again. And even though it might paaaaain me momentarily to type out that ginormous number, it will be the last & only time I'll have to do it, and that feels pretty damn good.