It’s not easy to be in the skin we’re in.  Oh my.  Did I really just type that?  I think this is good ground work for a country song — or maybe a song for children.  Yep, that’s good.  We need to do something to help children grow up to learn good eating habits, to get away from processed food and to know more about food than the package it may come in and this post is not it.

No, this post is about the fact that I make mistakes.  That sometimes I fall.  That I get up.  That I’m human.

You know my story.  After 23 Sunday morning weigh-ins at Weight Watchers, I cook fresh food.  I don’t fry anything anymore.  I’ve used just ONE stick of butter, less than a bottle of olive oil and so little canola oil I can’t measure it in SIX MONTHS.

The amount of heavy cream I’ve consumed is less than a quarter of a cup, there hasn’t been a fried anything, and nary a potato chip or chocolate chip cookie has crossed my lips.  But as saintly as this all may sound in a world of weight loss, hear this ——> I. Am. Not. Perfect.

Two things happened on Sunday to remind me of this fact and while humbled, it’s really no surprise.  Why would I admit this on my blog?  Why would I expose my foibles, faux pas and vulnerabilities?  Because you come here to find recipes to help you on your journey to a better eating lifestyle and maybe, possibly, you like to follow my journey in the stories I can’t seem to help but share.

And now you need an explanation.

So…there I was in the bathroom, getting ready to shower and head to my Sunday morning weigh-in, but first I stepped on the scale and as I knew, in 20 minutes when I hit the scale at my local Weight Watchers, I wasn’t going to like what I saw.

I’ve lost some amount of weight in 19 of the previous 22 weigh-ins.  The other three weeks amounted to a paltry sum of less than 2 lbs. gained.  It was minimal.  Almost negligible in the world of weight loss plans.  It was something to be happy with — to be proud of.  I could be in one of the Weight Watchers commercials as one of those, “This weight loss is not typical” stories.  Well, at an average of just over 1 lb. a week, perhaps not, but in the television commercial that plays in my head, with me being the star, this is the little disclaimer that runs at the bottom of the screen.

I showered, got dressed, got on the elevator to head down to the lobby to wait for my friend to pick me up to make our weekly pilgrimage to the Temple of Weight Watchers.  And I say this, my friends, as a term of endearment.  Really.

So, we head off and I am thinking in my head … oh, this is going to be the worst week I’ve had during this program.  But I’m not terribly upset.  Those weeks when I gained were not devastating, because I knew I could do better the next week, but this was going to be more than a half pound gain.  My analog scale is tough to read, even with my bifocals, so I was nervous about seeing what the “official” scale had to say.

We roll out of the car, head into the storefront and get in line.  I head to the scale where my friend and fabulous Weight Watchers leader, Sue sits, waiting to weigh me and I close my eyes.  I don’t know why.  It’s not that I can see the scale.  Things have changed at the Temple of Weight Watchers and there is no exclaiming your weight out loud.  There is no number for you or any onlookers to peek at when you step on the platform.  It’s a silent kind of thing, with the person weighing you looking at a computer screen and waiting for the electronic sticker to print out to be put into your weight loss log, but you know.  I can’t imagine there are many people that get on the scale each week not knowing whether they will lose or gain, although I never know how much it will be.

I let Sue know that I was expecting a gain as though she could make it not happen.  And I told her it would be an increase that would be more than a measly few tenths of a pound.  And it was.  I gained 1.6 lbs.  No exclamation points here.  I don’t want to make this worse than it is.  I don’t want it to invade my brain.  The amount I gained this week was exactly what I lost the week prior.  That was disappointing.  All that work for naught.  But on the other side of that scale was a new week, one in which I have full control over how things will go.  Just as I can choose my attitude each morning when I wake up, I can choose how my eating and weight loss will go.

So, I came home after the requisite stop at Trader Joe’s for fresh produce and a couple of other things and stepped into my kitchen to make a Sunday morning breakfast.  I knew I wanted to use my favorite — Corn tortillas.  I thought I’d make chilaquiles for a fabulous breakfast.  The Trader Joe’s stop was the Ah-ha! moment.  As I stopped at the cheese aisle and reach in for a package of Queso Blanco, my brain stoped and said — Wait!  You just bought a package last week!  That was EIGHT OUNCES of cheese and there was nothing but 1/2 an ounce left in the fridge at home!!  Ah-ha!  No need to question where that gain came from.  Those BLTs — Bites, Licks, Tastes really do add up and now I know.  I pulled back and did not put the cheese in my cart.  I will do without Queso Blanco this week.

As I said above, I make mistakes.  I’m human.  I fall down.  This was the worst breakfast I’ve had in 23 weeks.  Really.  It was awful.  I’m not 100% sure, but I have a feeling I did this on purpose.  I suspect it was a form of punishment for the gain.  It was a pan of mush and it was hardly worth eating.  It certainly wasn’t worth photographing and hated that I wasted a corn tortilla and that my breakfast wasn’t fabulous.  But I had six more breakfasts in front of me for the week, so I ate, did the dishes and moved on.  And that’s how it goes for me with this long weight loss journey.  I just keep at it and for this, I’m proud of myself.  I am able to pat myself on the back, tell myself it is just a bump in the road and tomorrow will be better.

And it is.

Rather than leaving you without a recipe, feast your eyes on this redux of a truly delicious breakfast.