Why is it that everything always comes easier to men? Or at least SEEM like it does? Especially in the weight loss department.
My weight is the bane of my existence. I have battled with it for as long as I can remember. Up, down, up, down, up, up, up. The scale never moves in the preferred direction, and now thanks to motherhood, it's perpetually stuck at a very scary number.
I still daydream about losing weight. I imagine what my body would feel like to loose just 15-20 lbs. How sexy I could be. Oh, you like what you see huh?
I'd probably still have my mommy pooch but at least my ass wouldn't spread out wider than the seat of a normal size chair.
My daydreams have a material connection. I still cling to a pair of skinny jeans in hopes that one day I'll return to that size. A pair of jeans I've owned since pre freshman-15, pre sophomore 15, pre newly-wed 9, pre I'm in a comfortable loving relationship and I've stop worrying about what I look like naked therefore I gained 20 lbs.
Oh who am I kidding, I still worry about what I look like naked. Lights off please. I gained the 20lbs because the husband and I have a mutual love of food.
But yesterday was too much. Yesterday, was the cherry on my whipped cream pie of a life.
The husband texts me to make a casual observation. Really I think he was just trying to poke me when I was down.
Husband: "Damn, I've lost 10lbs since I went to the doctor last" (which was just 3 weeks ago)Long pause as I consider the mental picture of the husband standing on what I'm sure is a giant industrial scale used to weigh pallets of dog food.
Me: "I hate you"
Husband: "No really, I weighed myself on the scale in the back of the warehouse."
Me: "You missed the sarcasm"