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.