The Sisterhood with Oprah

I am, in a small way, just like Oprah. Not in a lots of money, herculean power, or infinite wisdom kind of way. I cannot shoot a person's career into the stratosphere with barely a mention. I am never listed on any top 100 lists. No, the way I am just like Oprah is that I have a serious issue with yo-yo weight. Sorry, Oprah. 

I have been massively strict on myself and my husband since Christmas. I practically slap food out of his hand, and I talk to myself out loud to "remind" myself that I shouldn't eat that piece of candy. He has lost 15 pounds and I have lost 8 pounds. I'm happy about this progress, but inevitably the weekend comes, as it is known to do. Each. And. Every. Week. I lose all control and end up on Monday a couple pounds heavier. I then spend the whole week trying to get it back down. It would look weird if I slap the food out of MY OWN hand. 

Unlike Oprah, I don't have people who can slap things away for me. My husband has zero will power. All I have to do is mention the word pizza and there's no going back. He's no help.

What to do? What to do? I guess just keep on keeping on. Keep on livin', as Matthew McConaughey would say. That said, I can't help but have a little resentment about the fact that my husband has lost almost double what I have with the same routine. Men. Right, Oprah?