Happy to be home! Not happy to be 196.2.

Vacation? Not really. <br />I'm back from vacation in Alaska. Actually, I'm not sure I'd call it a vacation. It was more visiting family, something I wouldn't recommend doing for twelve days without a break.<br /><br />I love my sister and we get along great. We can talk for hours about everything and about nothing. It's the rest of the family that was kind of driving me a bit nuts after a while. My three nieces and their husbands and children, and their children's children.<br /><br />My 21-year old great niece has a three-year old. I love and adore both of them, especially the three-year old. The three-year old, Layla, decided to make me her best friend. I know this because she told me, "Aunt Diana, I've decided I want you to be my best friend." Layla speaks in complete sentences with an amazing vocabulary, and I could understand every word she said (she turned three two months ago). Even though she was a lot of fun, and I was amazed at her intelligence (you can't imagine how many times I said "is she really only three?!), she wore me out!<br /><br /><br />One day Layla told her grandmother (my niece) the following: "Grandma, you are fat, fat, fat!". Of course everyone attacked Layla and told her that was very rude. She said she was sorry. I didn't hear about this incident until later in the day when my niece told me about it and how much it hurt her feelings. Layla was sitting on my lap. Layla said to me, "But I said I was sorry!" I told her that when you say something mean to someone, even though you tell them you're sorry, it still hurts the person. Calling someone fat isn't nice, and it hurts the person. You don't want to hurt people, do you? She said no. Then I looked at her and said I know you're only three, but I know you understand me. She looked me in the eye, and said, "Yes, Aunt Diana, I understand you. I'm sorry, and I won't do it again". She really is only three, but not too young to learn that words hurt.<br /><br />It was constant motion and constant conversation for twelve days. As a result, I'm exhausted. It was fun, but it was also stressful at times. Family dynamics can be complicated. I love them all, but I'm very happy to be home, 1500 miles away from them.  <br /><br />About the weight...196.2<br />You read the number right, it's not a typo - I weighed 196.2 this morning. Because of all the kids around at my sister's house, there was a lot of kid-friendly food. Cookies, candy, ice cream. All the things I love. A cookie for Layla, a cookie for me. Ice cream for Layla, ice cream for me. A few pieces of candy for Layla, a few for me. She was my eating buddy. She was also a ball of energy, constantly in motion, and tiny. I was a couch potato except for the three days I managed to go to the gym.<br /><br />This recent weight gain is depressing and it hurts. My body is achy and I feel like a big, fat cow. Please don't leave a comment that it's okay and that I'm not fat and shouldn't be so hard on myself. I am huge, and I need to be hard on myself. <br /><br />Today is day one of being back on track. I know the drill. Exercise and reduced food intake and of course, no sweets. It's hard to get back on track. Once I start gaining weight, I can't seem to stop eating. It's a vicious cycle. On the other hand, I know it's not impossible. I've done it before, I can do it again.<br /><br />One day at a time, right?<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">For some reason, I didn't take very many pictures this trip. I just wasn't in the  mood. I can't publish this and not post a picture of Layla. She's the little one in the picture below. You can see why I fell in love with her. The others are her mom, the gorgeous 21-year old Joanna, and one of my great nephews, Robert (he's nine and every picture I have of him has his eye's closed) and another great niece (from New Jersey), Cassie, she's 10. And if you're wondering, Layla is named after the Eric Clapton song, Layla.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_iI1jFTKFTJ40u9S0hIAJJDZ121VqUWfDSJYAhVUdrcBYtLJIl2CgLtWNffgwurBcGVPO-tgGKo-Q5dpBps05cIu0Yn7GjyPug2ALYtD-rb-GDH5vcJ4ir8TYdhAIw_71vxMuTOEpcDg/s1600/family.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_iI1jFTKFTJ40u9S0hIAJJDZ121VqUWfDSJYAhVUdrcBYtLJIl2CgLtWNffgwurBcGVPO-tgGKo-Q5dpBps05cIu0Yn7GjyPug2ALYtD-rb-GDH5vcJ4ir8TYdhAIw_71vxMuTOEpcDg/s400/family.png" width="347" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> A post about Alaska isn't complete without a picture of a moose. This was taken from the living room window at my sister's house. One of my niece's husbands and I spent an afternoon after this picture was taken cutting brush and branches out of trees so you could see the river better (and the moose). Hard work! I think I saw at least ten moose while I was there. I sort of lost count, but there were a lot of them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_wIG1fcFQErChFeoB_Rh_SPBhYHjyqTLH-K1OK11D6hS_nrZa8fE8U4jczwdHDIl8R-lgF3-XCwqk2K4BcVdMXEY6FkDXHUjalzjcHe5MIaX3k2oX4Lfy-4u0XftGmdZr_EMk87xnK8b/s1600/Moose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_wIG1fcFQErChFeoB_Rh_SPBhYHjyqTLH-K1OK11D6hS_nrZa8fE8U4jczwdHDIl8R-lgF3-XCwqk2K4BcVdMXEY6FkDXHUjalzjcHe5MIaX3k2oX4Lfy-4u0XftGmdZr_EMk87xnK8b/s400/Moose.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>

Happy to be home! Not happy to be 196.2.

Vacation? Not really. I'm back from vacation in Alaska. Actually, I'm not sure I'd call it a vacation. It was more visiting fami...

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