I’ve stopped weighing myself weekly monthly.
I no longer workout to stupid videos that try to motivate you with stupid motivational speeches when you’re resting in between sets.
I watch what I eat, but at the same time I eat what I want.
I cook and bake quite a bit and all are items that one who is trying to lose weight should supposedly stay away from – cakes, breads, hearty stews, etc.
I’m always thinking, dreaming of what I’m going to cook next.
I refuse to buy new clothes until I can fit into my old threads.
I live in yoga pants, wife beaters, and hoodies.
I hate trying to lose weight, but at the same time I hate not being comfortable with my weight.
And I absolutely detest it when I don’t meet goals that I’ve set.
The plan was to lose all my baby weight (70 frickin’ pounds) by the time the kid turned nine months old. Today he is 10 months old and I’m still five pounds from my goal. I know that’s pretty good and I should be proud of what I have accomplished, but I’m not. I obviously could have done better. I simply slacked off and made lame ass excuses. We humans are good at rationalizing why we do the things we do in order to make us feel better about our actions, but unfortunately that does not always last. Reality always catches up to you.
I know some of you are wondering why the hell I’m so upset about not losing all my baby weight, especially when I’m so close. And it’s simply because I have to get into a BATHING SUIT by June. That’s just two measly months away. Why did I sign up for a mommy and me swimming class? What was I thinking?
Tankini here I come!
Yes, it’s a cute suit if you’re a size 0 model.












