Okay, so the waistline is that bit thicker, the tight LBD has become tighter and the weighing scales has been banished until it can show me a set of digits that don't throw me into the depths of despair.
It'll be February, at the very least. However, I got an unexpected kick-start to shedding the Christmas weight in this the first week of January and it came in the unlikely form of my first-born. In short, he asked me to teach him to drive. Why he asked me and not his father is anyone's guess but it might have something to do with the fact that I have long-since regaled my children with tales of the time their father tried to teach me to drive. I use the word "tried" because he did not succeed. Such were the arguments the whole exercise induced that he removed himself from the situation, handed me into the capable driving tutelage of his best buddy and washed his hands of me (as driver, that is - he continued to retain me as a wife).
So I must credit my son for by-passing all that grief and coming directly to yours truly. I was quite chuffed really and though the terror of it didn't rest comfortably with me, his trust in me did. I would not fail him.
Now I am aware that in this day and age, the rules have changed and that I am really not supposed to be bringing him to an empty car park to do our thing. But it's one of those rites of passage, isn't it? Plus, I really wanted to be the one sitting in the seat next to him as he took his first fledging driving steps. That is until the moment arrived and I wanted to be anywhere else but be in the seat next to him. It was at this precise moment that the sweat glands along with the car went into overdrive and the first green shoots of weight loss appeared.
Yet, looking at this boy, who is six months off becoming a man, getting behind the wheel of a car was quite the moment in time for me. There was my definite pride in him for him wanting to do this and do it well but there was also my fear that in teaching him to drive, I was opening up a whole new world of worries about him. Man or no man, he will always be my baby.
I have to say he took to it well. So well, in fact that I think even his father would have managed to deal with him without internal relations breaking down. Having said that I do fancy myself as being quite the driving instructor and if it simultaneously manages to get my waistline back in gear, maybe an earlier peek at a certain set of digits might just be ventured.