Why Do I Bother?

May 19, 2008

I wish I had it in me to write a positive post this morning.  I had a pretty good weekend, sneaking in naps both days, going out shopping for a little while, and even making it to church yesterday.  The kids were good, and BabyN is sleeping well again (after three new teeth, and only one more imminent).

Unfortunately, I’m a bit upset about something, something that should be completely under my control.  You see, I feel fat.  I’m really not.  If I revealed my weight, many of you would fight the urge to tell me to shut up because the number itself is pretty enviable.  But on my tiny body, it hangs wrong.  So I look fat.

All those new clothes I got recently?  They aren’t enough to help me fight this awful body image.  Even the ones that are specifically designed to help conceal a post-baby belly aren’t enough to diminish my extra flab.  The only things that will help will be watching what I eat and exercising.

Oh, wait!  I’m already doing that!  I’m eating less than I have since I was early pregnant with BabyN and puking everything I ate.  I’m watching what it is that I eat as well.  In fact, I haven’t eaten this healthy since getting married.  And we’re going for loooong family walks almost every day.  Pushing 70+ pounds of stroller and baby only makes the workout that much more effective.

And still the weight gain continues.  I’m gaining about half a pound every couple of days.  It’s no wonder I’m getting depressed about it.  How can I be working this hard to end up with the opposite result?  I might as well turn back into a couch potato and eat everything I want and as much of it as I can force in.  Then I would have something to blame the weight gain on anyway.  I wouldn’t be working hard for nothing.

Last night, M and I even had a little tiff because I felt super awful in the sexy pajamas I chose to wear to bed, but he couldn’t keep away from me.  While it should have made me feel better that he was so turned on by me, I couldn’t get the image of what I’d just seen in the mirror out of my mind. 

I absolutely HAVE to get this body image problem under control if I can’t control the weight itself; it’s starting to affect my normal life.  But I don’t know what to do about that.  I guess venting about it is a start.  And maybe M will have some ideas for me too.

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