Breakfast

This morning I got up and made some cheesy eggs and sausage for both me and hubby. I felt like I was serving a little kid. I put his plate in front of him, he sighed and then picked at his food before forcing it down his throat.

My feelings ...
I'm busting my butt to stick to plan ... mostly to plan ... getting myself in shape for HIM (trying to be the "trophy wife" every man wants). The more in shape I feel, the sexier I feel. My self-confidence goes up with every workout. To me, self-confidence (not overly so) makes a person beautiful. Being happy with yourself is a beautiful thing and I'm finally on my way to that point. He needs to return the favor. I'm not saying he has to be HOT, I'm saying he needs to do something for his health and self-confidence. He's always complaining about "being too fat and too tired to do anything". I'm sick of it.

He wants someone to do this for him. I told him all I can do is help. Honestly ... this was his idea. I went along with it because I needed to get rid of a few pounds and I thought it would be easier if we did it together. Instead, I've been having to battle myself trying not to go overboard when we go out to satisfy HIS cravings.

At the moment, I'm trying my best to stay out of the kitchen. Sadly though, I have to go in it to make the kids breakfast. I'll get them their cereal and then get out ... FAST.