Friday, October 24, 2008

The post where I humiliate myself

Usually I'm behind the camera. I'm the one snapping the pictures and the pictures are usually of my children. When scrolling through the archives of our past few years there are only a small handful of pictures of me.

And usually they are of me behind other people. Cause I'm no dummy and I know when a camera is aimed at me it's best I hide as much of myself as possible behind other people.

The other day my sister handed me a CD of pictures she had taken on the cruise. With her camera. A camera I was not operating and therefore was not behind.

You guessed it, I was in some pictures.


I'm fat, y'all.

Like really fat. Like "Holy Cow, Sister, step away from the Twinkies!" fat.

I'd like to blame it on having three children, but Goober is 5 y'all. This isn't baby weight. This is ice cream and cake weight. This is french fries weight. This is "let's get some fried chicken" weight.

I mean, it's not like I didn't know this. I've stepped on a scale. I've noticed that I keep buying bigger jeans and noting the use of spandex in the materials of my clothing. I've found myself slumming around the house in many pair of jogging pants (obviously not used for actual jogging, mind you) because the thought of putting on real clothes with buttons and zippers was just meh.

I had a glimpse of this earlier this year when my mother snapped a picture of The Man and me walking toward the ocean together. I was wearing a bathing suit and she took a picture of my back. My backside.

My ass.

I thought she loved me.

I was horrified when I saw it... but I destroyed the picture and immediately put it out of my head.

I think I'm fatter now.

I haven't devised a proper course of action at this time, but I'm working on it. Just as soon as I give the rest of that chocolate cake in my fridge to the kids therefore eliminating temptation.

Is there even a good substitute for chocolate? This could be painful.


Leanne said...[Reply to comment]

Sitting on the floor with my lap top and the top button of my jeans undone. And I'm still blaming it on baby weight. It's been almost four years and nobody's buying it anymore.

Still I possess a cross traiiner, which makes me feel a lot better, since I bought the thing I can convince myself I'm doing something about the weight (even though it's collected about the same weight in dust and cobwebs in the garage as I've collect in big macs and brownies.

Maybe I'll start and do something about it after Christmas.

I think I'm deluded.

A Spot of T said...[Reply to comment]

I'm still blaming it on baby fat and my kids are 20, 18 and 17. People seriously start looking at you funny too when you tell them how old your kids are. No sense of humor I say. I think you're very pretty and it's great putting a face to a blog I mostly lurk at but sure enjoy reading :o)

DysFUNctional Mom said...[Reply to comment]

I wish you the best of luck! I have been there.

carrie said...[Reply to comment]

Aw, you're beautiful.

mah-meeee said...[Reply to comment]

no clue who you saw there, but i see a beautiful woman who is a mom of three.

ps. there is no subsitute for chocolate.