U-turn in a container ship

Somehow, that´s what my current weight situation feels like to me.
You know those bi-i-ig container ships that take immense amounts of freight across oceans? I read somewhere that, once such a behemoth is moving into a certain direction, it takes, even at "full speed backwards", several miles to stop it, and also to turn it around.
I made the mistake of being too certain that a couple of weeks off plan wouldn´t harm my weight loss efforts too much.
And, like that container ship staying on course, for a while I maintained, or almost, and then, slowly, the direction changed, and my weight went up. Slightly, at first, and then in one-pound-a-day fluctuations, as if everything above plan I had eaten had been hovering in some fifth or sixth dimension, only to materialize on me at once.
And now I have to throw the rudder around again and get back in the other direction. The one leading to health, the one leading to feeling better.
And, like that container ship, right now it looks like the thing won´t budge off its course.
Knowing that it will eventually, if I hold the rudder tight, doesn´t make the current situation less frustrating.
What vexes me most is that I didn´t even feel like I was overeating the last days. But I had some rice and pasta and, perhaps worse, several rolls and slices of bread. Which didn´t push me over the caloric limit, but it almost looks as if my body were having an allergy to the stuff, so fast did my weight go up.
And that in spite of the fact that, with the rice and pasta at least, I cut the portions to one-fifth of what I used to believe was a portion , and did feel rather virtuous about it, too.
The reality of the scales was putting me back on the ground again fast this time.
Now, I have to complete that turnaround before I go back up even further.
So, no carbs. Absolutely none. No cookie, no bread, no rice, no pasta. No wine, either. Not until I am back at the point I had already reached.
And back to walking again. Half an hour every morning, at the very least. Preferably more. Even if it rains.
The most difficult part will be arranging this plan with the needs of DH. Last year´s weightloss was successful partly because DH was gone a lot and I felt free to not eat. Now that he is here most of the time, even if I don´t want to eat, I have to cook for him. He doesn´t know how, so cooking is my personal resposibility. But I don´t think he´d accept the kind of very-low-carb plan I need to go on for himself, in spite of being very supportive of me otherwise.
So, I´ll have to exercise my restraint muscles, too. Even if the pasta looks good.
And wait for that ole container ship Body to complete its turn.

How do you, dear readers, deal with the problem of being the family feeder while having to restrain your own consumption of food?


Julia