and now, back to what's really important: my ass!
Last winter, I got tired of always looking like I had just rolled out of bed (even though, most of the time, I had), so I traded in my sweatpants for two lovely pairs of wool trousers, which I wore ALL THE TIME. They are fabulous; one pair is grey and the other is a lovely chocolate brown, and they are, honestly, as comfortable as the sweats. And now that my children are big enough to not spit up or wipe their hands on me all the time, wool trousers are actually possible in my daily wardrobe. And those shoes I bought last weekend? I've been imagining wearing them with the lovely pants. And recently, on the clearance rack at Old Navy, I found this sash, to go on the brown pants, and this one, to go on the grey pants. Imagine how stylish I will be when the cold weather rolls in!
Fortunately, that won't be any time soon. Last night I decided that I should, perhaps, try the pants on, because I was feeling bloated and PMS-ish and really needed to torture myself. And, to my horror, I discovered that I have somehow managed to gain just enough weight this summer that NEITHER PAIR OF PANTS FITS. Damn it. How on earth, in a season when I have been putting on a bathing suit every other day to go to a pool where everyone else has either a boob job or a personal trainer, did I GAIN weight?
Damn it.
I'm blaming the kids. I don't know why; I just am. Although I should probably be blaming things like the butter toffee popcorn I had for lunch, and the booze. Definitely the booze. No more booze. And no more popcorn (although as I ate it all at lunch time, that's not such a big deal. But no booze! No no!).
The sad part is this: I lost weight in the first place because I was so overwhelmed and stressed out by my life and the daily goings-on at my house, so gaining some weight is a sign that my life is back to it's healthy even keel and my home is a happy place to be. Which is good. And the funny part is this: when I weighed less and was, apparently, smaller, at least in the hip-and-thigh area, I didn't feel smaller. Or even small. I just felt like me. But now that I am just enough bigger that I can't button my pants, I feel huge. I feel like huge me! Which is not fun. Add to that my whole everyday sense that my ass is enormous and hey! It's a party. But without any booze. Or popcorn.
It's not like I didn't realize this was coming--in fact, I wrote, right here, just the other day, about how I had to get out my bigger jeans. But still! I didn't think THE PANTS wouldn't fit! Damn it.
So now, inspired by my on-line girlfriends and their stellar weight-loss successes, I am going to get back into those pants IF IT KILLS ME. I have a while, after all, as it will be hot as hell here well into September (or possibly October). Although of course my two favorite pairs of fall pants are ALSO too tight. As is, most likely, EVERYTHING else I bought last winter. Damn it.
I blame the kids.
Fortunately, that won't be any time soon. Last night I decided that I should, perhaps, try the pants on, because I was feeling bloated and PMS-ish and really needed to torture myself. And, to my horror, I discovered that I have somehow managed to gain just enough weight this summer that NEITHER PAIR OF PANTS FITS. Damn it. How on earth, in a season when I have been putting on a bathing suit every other day to go to a pool where everyone else has either a boob job or a personal trainer, did I GAIN weight?
Damn it.
I'm blaming the kids. I don't know why; I just am. Although I should probably be blaming things like the butter toffee popcorn I had for lunch, and the booze. Definitely the booze. No more booze. And no more popcorn (although as I ate it all at lunch time, that's not such a big deal. But no booze! No no!).
The sad part is this: I lost weight in the first place because I was so overwhelmed and stressed out by my life and the daily goings-on at my house, so gaining some weight is a sign that my life is back to it's healthy even keel and my home is a happy place to be. Which is good. And the funny part is this: when I weighed less and was, apparently, smaller, at least in the hip-and-thigh area, I didn't feel smaller. Or even small. I just felt like me. But now that I am just enough bigger that I can't button my pants, I feel huge. I feel like huge me! Which is not fun. Add to that my whole everyday sense that my ass is enormous and hey! It's a party. But without any booze. Or popcorn.
It's not like I didn't realize this was coming--in fact, I wrote, right here, just the other day, about how I had to get out my bigger jeans. But still! I didn't think THE PANTS wouldn't fit! Damn it.
So now, inspired by my on-line girlfriends and their stellar weight-loss successes, I am going to get back into those pants IF IT KILLS ME. I have a while, after all, as it will be hot as hell here well into September (or possibly October). Although of course my two favorite pairs of fall pants are ALSO too tight. As is, most likely, EVERYTHING else I bought last winter. Damn it.
I blame the kids.
6 Comments:
The kids are always good to blame for weight gain. Cause if it weren't for them, I wouldn't have all those fruitloops, and cookies and booze in my house, right?
Hey I had the same experience with my pants in the closet a few weeks ago. I do not know why I went to try them on because I knew what the result would be. Next time, I will slam my finger in the door because the pain will not last as long.
It is just like standing on the scale, pure torture.
I am trying to work off the extra ass I grew so I can wear my favorite pants when the weather is cold again. I try not to diet, and just alter what I eat and exercise more or for a longer period of time. It is the biggest challenge when I have chase Daria around, which is technically a cardio workout. Shouldn't that count?
Fruitloops and cookies and booze . . . mmmmm. I need a snack.
My upper body is totally good, from carrying 35 pound Charlie all the hell over the place. And Henry weighs 45 pounds and still (often!) has to be toted away from the scene of a tantrum. But somehow this is not helping my tush.
We're all apparently feelin' the fat here, eh? I somehow have gained, too, just in time to be my best friend's honor attendant on Labor Day weekend.
Stupid me.
Well, acutally, *depressed* me.
Those of us who are jumping on the weight-loss bandwagon should start a multi-contributor blog together.
Any takers?
We're not going down the weight lane here. No way Jose! The brown striped sash you bought at Old Navy? Can I just say it reminds me of Baskin Robbins? I know it's the popular colors, etc. but I just think of 31 Flavors all over again. Tells you why I won't discuss the weight thing, eh?
YSF
Mmmm, Baskin Robbins . . .
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