Mega Mom

It's thirty-something degrees and we are going for a walk. The dogs need to go out, so we will take them out. It's not really about the dogs though. It has more to do with the Mighty Mega Mom burgers we had for dinner. (The kids named them. The mighty meganess is a quarter pound of beef in patty form with Cavendar's and a smidge of barbecue sauce to give it a bit of Momness, and it prevents the kids from asking for Mickey D's.) We calculated that even with homemade burgers and sugar-free buns, our meal still packed more calories than Don could comfortably ignore. (Not so much a problem for me. I don't care. I was excited about eating.) That's the real culprit behind our walking. Walking burns calories which in turn prevent our yummy, fattening dinner from sticking with us in the form of a spare tire and the inspiration for "Baby Got Back".
Last summer I was totally on board with counting every last calorie we consumed and burned. I am obsessive with details, so we were likely pretty accurate in the accounting. We also dropped over a hundred pounds between us that have stayed off through the holidays and quitting smoking--- neither of which is known for helping maintain weight much less weight loss. At this point, I am pretty happy with my shape. It works for me, and the pronounced pear-shape is the result of producing the herd of children who refer to me as "Mom"... or at least the middle one who chose to grow transverse instead of up and down. Barring surgical intervention, this is my body. It's working pretty well at the moment, so why complain?
My spouse wants to stay as far from his previous weight of "too much" as possible. He's got this very cool habit of drawing a line in the sand and staying as far from the line as possible. He does not like to walk the line. I appreciate this since folks who walk the line have a tendency to slip over it more easily than those who stay way back. So I try to maintain a balance between the southern cooking I love and the healthy, low-cal meals that will allow us to not wear elastic-waist pants. I only sometimes make fun of my precious spouse's need to go on five walks a day, and then usually just because I do not want to be included. He's going to keep us both in far better shape than I would if left to my own devices. (Said devices would be heavily weighted toward York peppermint patties.)