I think I may suffer from elevated self image.
Let me explain…
I have an image in mind of what I look like & let me tell you (and I mean this humbly), I’m smokin’ – Charlize should be asking me who does my colours.
Then I pass a mirror.
That pregnancy glow is long gone as is the “I just gave birth I am She-Ra Princess of Power” kind of confidence. A tired, ragged, fatter version of myself has settled in.
Have I mentioned that my new favourite thing is Rum & Coke slurpies? And that I’ve made Kettle Corn about 5 times in about 9 days? Chocolate anyone? And for the first time in my life, I am eating my own baking (cardinal rule of The Baking Club – always have a tester, never, ever, sample your own work). I’m making a birthday cake for a friend this weekend. God, grant me the serenity!
So, the obvious plan should be to begin a workout routine of some sort. Not my strong suit…actually not my suit at all. In fact, if life were the prom & the suit I wore to the prom reflected my workout regime, I would show up looking like Herb Tarlek.
What is really sucking ass at the moment is that I don’t even have the good boobs that go along with post pregnancy. I am not able to breastfeed, so no big jugs for me…or Music Man (good thing he’s an ass man – something I have ample of). So, I’m stuck being an eleven year old boy on top & Bruce Vilanch on the bottom.
At the end of my pregnancy all I wanted was to see my toes again – I can see them. They’re what’s on the other side of the deflated whoopy cushion once known as my stomach – not that the area was my best to begin with, but let’s face it, no one wants to see a cute pedicure on the other side of jowels.
The up side is that I am wearing my pre-pregnancy jeans. They fit like a dream right after giving birth 5 weeks ago. That may have been my downfall. I got cocky and have been eating my face off. My skinny jeans mock me from our closet. I tried them on over the weekend.
I am this clueless.
Let’s just hang on & pray that post-partum doesn’t hit until one of these issues is resolved, or I’m drunker.