It’s not at all uncommon to read that some little starlet
has dropped a million pounds since giving birth to her ridiculously gorgeous baby
like 2 days after having him /her.
In theory, losing weight is attainable and very appealing
on a “fat day.” You know what I’m talking about.
I buy these magazines that say how so and so lost all the weight in 47
milliseconds and I hope for once, that the article will make sense. It never actually computes correctly in my
head though. I'm not sure how to afford or incorporate the 3 hours of personal
trainer time or low carb diet into my daily routine.
I join a foodie support group because people are starting to stare at me funny when I say that I'm still carrying a little toddler weight.
I go for a meeting or two and then I miss a week because GiGi is sick or
has specialist visits 2 hours away. I
miss a meeting or seven because the weather is too hot or too cold and my hair
looks bad that day. Unicorns have stopped by for marshamllow tea and all of the sudden my car won't start. I can think of anything to get out of these meetings.
My will power and commitment to dropping the pounds was
savage at one point in time. I was a
goal-oriented beast. I’ve never been a size two or
even a size ten, but I have been able to run for miles and miles with a belly
full of mixed greens and perfectly portioned foods. Now, with a one year old on my hip and
little hands touching my face nonstop, I find that I have less and less patience to count
out my food. My head and my heart are both convinced
I can do it, but have yet to sit down with my giant ass and big mouth to discuss
how exactly to get on track.
Today I had fresh pineapple and 4 cups of coffee with fat free
creamer and pretend sugar. I buy lots and lots of pretend food. Lower this, free of that and always always without sugar.
Coffee and pineapple in the stomache, I secretly want a burrito with cheese and guacamole and so
much sour cream I could take a bath in it.
Rich, delicious sour cream. The very
real fact is I’m going to cave in. I’m going to cave in because I have an
obscene amount of love for my daughter…and eating. What else can I say, I love the food. Aside from mayo and curry – I will eat anything. I can still wear cute
clothes from off the rack and get off the couch without the help of a crane or
two strong men, so I think everything is okay on the health front. My thighs rub together and I would never wear
a swimsuit to the beach, but I kind of think that a bowl of pasta has a better
deal going than sand between my toes and potential skin cancer. Besides, my doctor isn’t concerned so should I really be right now?
Is it okay to cave in and eat what I want without the desire
to watch my portions and cut out carbs?
As long as I’m feeding GiGi flax seed bread with organic cream cheese,
and whole wheat pasta with veggies and sauce, can’t I just have taco?
…Or eight?
When it comes to GiGi, I’m the Colonel of Snacks: Healthy Baby Division. My family is afraid to feed GiGi without direct permission from me. The “yes” eyes. The double-nod. They joke when I come in to see them feeding
her. All hands raised up high and voices
yelling, “WE DIDN’T GIVE HER BUTTER!!”
So why is it that I love food that I would never feed to her?
Why can’t I just say,
“Listen Morrocan olive bread, I love you but I don’t
think I can do this anymore. You’re
consuming me and I just don’t know where you begin and I end. I mean you’ve moved in on my thighs. You’re
not even paying rent to stay here. All
of the burden is on me! All you do is hang out all day, with those two jerks Calories and Carbohydrates. We both know they are hard to get rid of."
Why do I do this? Because I’m into toxic romances, apparently. I know we need to break-up but I’m in love
with food. I guess I’m just a I’m a food
whore. All of the support groups, magazines and pep talks won't help me with this relationship. Maybe there is a safe place for me to go during this struggle....say...a beer-battered womens shelter?
Tell me babblers, what’s your foodie weakness? I’m hungry and I want to hear!
I hardly let GiGi indulge in crappy food; however, here is her weakness:fat free chocolate pudding.
