Are you kidding me?!? Someone else thought I was pregnant... AGAIN!
WTF?
Let me set the stage... It is Phil and my first REAL date since Elias was born. We are going to a comedy club to see his friend perform. Keep in mind I am
obviously struggling with some MAJOR body issues thus creating a whirlwind of a disaster in our closet as I attempt to find something remotely non-30 and non-
minvan-looking to wear. I know for certain none of my cute jeans fit so I don't even try. Okay.
Preggo jeans. Hot. Now, what to do about the upper-half of my body? Nothing tight because I have a prevailing ex-baby bump and ridiculously out-of-proportion ta-
tas that could suffocate a lesser man. Nothing with a pattern because... same
dilema. Nothing short waisted because my boobs and belly make it half of a shirt and honestly. No one wants to see that shit. &*$K!!! What am I going to wear?!?
I stick with long, black and boring. As we are leaving to go pick up our young, cute, fun friends, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, realizing I am about to head
downtown in a
2004 Honda Odyssey and
offically feel 30. God. This sucks. I feel and look as old as I really am. What happened to the peppy, fun, hot 19 yr. old Phil met??? I always feel like her when I go on dates with him (He has absolutely gotten better with age, which doesn't help my current mental state!) I ate her, apparently.
Okay, I am over it. Here I am. Deal with it. Your husband LOVES you. He thinks your HOT and is excited to get
any sort of attention from you considering you just came out of an incredibly hormonal pregnancy (=little action in the bedroom for 9 months) and recovery from delivering a baby (=NO action in the bedroom for 6 weeks). He's good with
whatever you've got
goin' on right now. That's all that matters. HE is all that matters. So just let it go and enjoy yourself or you just might end up with a bunch of holes all over the house from fits and... other things.
So we go to the comedy club and walk up to the booth to pay. A guy Phil knows is working, whom we haven't seen in about a year. They do the whole "
Howyabeen" thing and smiles while pointing at my belly. Now keep in mind, MANY and I mean MANY people have told me they would NEVER say ANYTHING to a woman unless it was BLATANTLY OBVIOUS (interpretation: she was going to deliver
any day). They apparently have made the same mistake this incredibly good-intentioned, poor chap is about to make. So what does he do? He opens his mouth. "Look at that! (again, pointing at my stomach) Man, congratulations!" Me: Smile and laugh. Smile and laugh. Inside feeling like I should plop myself in front of the TV in a
Hawaiian-print mu-mu and buy stock in Doritos. Phil (my knight in shining armor): "Dude. She's not pregnant. We just had a baby."
A blank stare came over the guys face. I tried to
decipher if it was taking a bit to process due to his consumption of Jack Daniels or if he was strategically planning his next move like the loser in the World Chess Championship who realizes he is about to hear either "check" or "check-mate." I hoped for the latter... How does he respond? As any upstanding citizen would do. He hops on his bicycle and starts back-
pedaling as fast as his legs could take him.
After multiple apologies, he says "You definitely won't forget the first time you met me!" "Yeah, except we've met before." "Oh, damn. I'm sorry." --uncomfortable, sporadic laughter-- "Well, your first drink is on me. What can I get you?" His wife kindly whispers in his ear, "Honey, she's probably breastfeeding and can't drink you idiot." "Right. I am so sorry." Me: Hell yes I am drinking you &%$*chop! Make it a double! But instead, I walk (or should I say waddle) away to find my seat.
Now I lead with this story because it really does set the stage for what I am about to expose. You see, I have never thought of myself as fat. Well... not until recently. I have been
heavier than I would like at times but never really obsessed or thought too much about it. I was lucky. If I didn't like how I looked, my body would eventually level itself out after a few months of eating healthy and *sort of* being active. Phil teases me because in the 12 years he had known me, I have never consistently worked out for more than a few months. Basically long enough to notice some changes, then I quit, because I had better things to do with my time (like take care of a child or put myself through school). But I have also never been really fit - just looked okay with strategically chosen clothes that flattered what I wanted to show and hid what I didn't.
But slowly and surely, I have packed extra on with every pregnancy and never really worked it off. This sounds so familiar... can you say "suburban housewife"?? Wait... that's what I am!! I know for certain that I am one of those who needs at least a solid 2 years to fully recover from pregnancy. I need time to get my hormones stabilized, my body back, my mental capacities, etc. TWO YEARS! When it does, this is what I get:

Not bad, but not totally fit either... just
normal.When I don't get my mandatory recovery time, this is what I get:



Seriously. This is me today. When you see me at the pool, this is what is hiding under my swimsuit cover that I will absolutely NOT take off even if my child is drowning. Its coming in the water with me! So here I am. Laying it all out there for everyone is
cyber-everywhere to see. I can't believe I am doing this!!! But forcing myself to deal with the reality of it will only help me... right? No laughing and pointing. No whispering. No gasps. Well, okay. I mean you are safely judging me in the comfort of your own home, parked in front of your computer screen where no one will hear your criticism. Go ahead. Zoom in and check out my dimples. Gawk at my stretch marks. I have already done this multiple times.
Here is the damage report:
Age: 30
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 154 lbs.
Body Fat: 28.9%
BMI: 24.1
Waist to Height Ratio: 0.49
(all of the info. above indicated I am obese or borderline obese)
Bust: 39" (seriously.)
Waist: 35.5"
Hips: 44"
Thigh: 24"
Arm: 11.5"
So the plan is this:
- Cut calories to 15oo max. per day
- Exercise AT LEAST 5 days/week for 60 minutes (gym, P90X, run, etc.)
- Balance protein/carbs/fats to a 40:40:20 ratio
- Increase water consumption (1 gal/day)
Bottom line: I need to get this shiz under control! My goal is to be at fightin' weight by the time school starts again. I am setting little goals for myself as motivation. If I work out for one week consistently, I get a facial. One month: a massage. If I make/maintain my goal weight by my birthday (October), I get a tattoo! Oh, it's on... like Donkey Kong! Who's with me?!?