Phat with an ‘F’ is not quite the same

Having kids really does a number on your body, doesn’t it?

I never believed it after M came along. Granted I looked very ready by the time she was born (almost in Joe’s new car, if you’re wondering) but, 12 weeks later when I went back to work, I was in my old clothes. Why is everyone complaining about losing weight? It’s sooo easy.

Then I got pregnant with Abs. By 25 weeks, I was bigger than full-term with M. In 38 weeks? Humungous. It was a totally different pregnancy than my first. With M, I got a belly. Just a belly. With Abs, I got a belly. A huge belly. And a huge ass, and gigantic boobs, and thighs that rubbed together to the point of smoke. I grew 2 extra chins. I went through 3 sizes of maternity clothes. I gained almost 60 lbs.

I’m 5’1. 60 extra pounds is a lot for someone who’s 7’1. Imagine what it did for me. Pretty.

I still held out hope that once this enormous creature was born, I would shrink back to normal in no time just like I did before. 6 weeks went by. 3 months went by. 6 months went by. Still fat. Down to 2 chins, but still fat.

I joined Weight Watchers. I joined a gym. I used neither. I just sat around and complained about my fat ass and drowned my sorrow in hot fudge sundaes {chocolate chip ice-cream, no nuts in case you want to bring me one.}

It took a stomach bug to get my ass in gear, literally. I was sick for a week, could barely eat and lost almost 10 lbs. Definitely a silver lining to a puke-filled cloud. I didn’t even gain it back right away as I expected. The wonderful stomach bug brought me down to the thinnest I’ve been since having my 2nd daughter. Both girls seem to have a touch of a stomach bug now. *Fingers crossed that I get it again* I’m not really kidding.

It didn’t stay that way. Over the course of the last year, I’ve gained it back. I’ve sat around watching the scale creep up and not done a thing about it. Growing up, I did gymnastics, I ate what I wanted and it never mattered. I stayed little no matter what. I was warned that it would catch up to me eventually. Warned that I should start eating well before it became a problem. It’s a problem.

At this point in my life, it’s not just about looking good and staying thin, it’s about being healthy.

When I was 22, I was on vacation and saw a man drop dead of a heart attack in front of me. He was 36 years old.

Guess how old Joe and I turn this year?

We’re too old to be so dumb about our weight and health. Too old to eat junk food all the time, and too old to keep making excuses not to exercise or to sit around all night on the couch. Too old to claim I hate salad or vegetables. I actually don’t.

So, I went out an bought a Reebok Step and the old-school video that I used to do in college (not easy to find, as it’s from the era of thong leotards and hugely teased, white Aqua-net styled hair!) I’m actually doing it and having fun. I guess you really do have to pick what you like. As much as I want to be cool and do yoga and Pilates, they make me want to fall asleep. If I’m already laying down, why not just go the extra step and take a nap?

I’m still holding out for that stomach bug. And fine…a salad.

Related posts:

1. Dear Closet, Why do you hate me?
2. You don’t know what you’ve got…until you’re much chubbier.
3. Something else that shouldn’t be enjoyable. But, it is.

Tagged as: weight loss