Obsessed

I don't know what it is. It must be the double dosed of "x" genes, but women are more or less obsessed with weight. Some might admit it aloud, others might be silent, but if you are a woman, you've worried about weight in one form or another.

I worried about it when I was a gorgeous size 1, weighing around 75* pounds, having a waistline of 21 inches. I was healthy. I was just really slim, and shapely.

I was worried about it after I had three children, thinking I am so fat! I was 120 pounds, and not going anywhere. I was so upset! That's me on the left side, after I have three children.

What I should have done was appreciate myself. I should have been thankful that I have my health and both my Fallopian tubes. Most of all, I should have been happy I was a size 6-8.

Now, after 5 children, I am twice the woman my husband married. It's almost an accomplishment you know. If it's an investment, who wouldn't be happy with at least 100% return? Hah! I can barely squeeze into my size 10 jeans. I am comfortable around size 14. I am woman-sized.

I was starting to grumble and moan all over again, that is if I had ever stopped. Then I realized; it could be worse. What if this is as good as it fucking gets? Shouldn't I get a head start and start appreciating this smaller self of mine in preparation for a bigger me in the future?

I would, but am not giving up yet. Right now, I am breastfeeding my last baby ever. Since spinning** away, nor running from my weight on a treadmill like a lunatic rodent, is not yet an option, I might as well enjoy being a woman of size. That's me on the picture below between my Lil Sis and my daughter. That's me two months after my 5th baby was born.

I was still complaining about the weight. However, I was also very glad to be alive to complain about my weight. My last pregnancy almost did me in. After giving birth, my liver and kidney decided to go on vacation for a few days. That rather ended my dreams of a full dozen little images of me running around. I was also glad to be alive. I was too much of a coward to risk it again. Bye-bye tubes for me.

This is the happy baby I am currently breastfeeding. He's 17 pounds, height on the 95th percentile, all at 4 and a half months. He's worth it!

I'm not one for moralizing anything. I'd just like to remind myself. As big as I think I am now, it could get bigger tomorrow! Wouldn't it be better to appreciate me now, I might never be this big again? Whatever pounds I'll have gained or lost, this is the moment to enjoy my life. This is perfect in its way. Would you agree?





*Haven't scanned yet any of my picture as newly wed. But trust me, I was small. Small as in tiny.
**Spinning...a gym version of mountain biking. Always great for trimming thighs and buns