I am up 1.5 pounds this week.
All I can say is, it could have been a lot worse.
I was doing great as of Friday morning when the kids and I left to go up north--even got my workout and a walk in before we left at 9:30 a.m.--but it was all downhill from there.
Pizza Friday night (more than I meant to have), dessert Saturday night, almost 1/4 pound of fudge Sunday afternoon, two hot dogs, chips, and THREE s'mores on Sunday night that I originally didn't plan to eat (which weren't worth it, believe me), and Monday was an all-out FREAKING DISASTER.
I ate a lot of things I didn't really want to eat in order to avoid making others feel bad (at least I perceived that they would feel bad), and to avoid having anyone think ill of me (as in, "Oh, she's doing that again," [insert eye roll here] etc., etc.). Sad, I know, but true.
I figure I have just a few weeks to get my shit together in this department because I'm taking the kids to Seattle for a week at the end of June and I don't want another repeat because, honestly, I have felt like HELL for the past two days after all the crap I ate over the weekend.