I look like Humpty Dumpty. A rotund, bloated egg. Mind you, this is a complaint about my shape rather than my size, and I’m sure that is any of my readers knew me personally, they wouldn’t be very sympathetic to my muffin top – I can think of a few people who would give me eye rolls and launch into a lecture. But I’m not comfortable.
I think I’m getting egg imagery because I’m wearing some white sweat pants, but I can’t deny that my body has changed shape. My husband tries to be nice about it, but I’ve lost curves in familiar areas and gained them in places that previously used to be flat. And some curves have just moved in a southerly direction (I am pushing 35, you know!)
I’ve always been scrawny, so when I gain (or lose) a pound or two, it’s fairly obvious. I don’t have clothes that are very forgiving of my additional belly flab – I didn’t have much of a bump when pregnant, but I filled out. I lost my waist. I didn’t mind it much when I was pregnant – I welcomed it! But now, here I have this flabby belly, ill-fitting pants, and no baby.
I know this is easily solved by doing a few sit ups and toning exercises, but I can’t really seem to bring myself to do it, as if the stomach crunches are the final, physical reality of my loss. With each crunch, curl, or sit up, it’s just another reminder that I have no baby.
I’m feeling particularly Weeble-like tonight, but I think that my grump attitude has more to do with PMS hormones than anything.
*There are in inordinate amount of creepy Humpty Dumpty pictures out there. I think I’m going to have nightmares over this Google image search.