Mommie Dearest

Yikes- haven't posted for six days. Lazy. In every way. Also only worked out twice and haven't lost an ounce, natch. Predictably, I lost my zeal early in the game, so I need to get re-energized and find a way to stay focused. Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels, right? My arse. Talk to me after a Krispy Kreme. I keep saying I'm going to join weight watchers, but then I don't for some reason. I honestly believe in it, so I don't know what's holding me back. My guess is that if I do join, then I'll have to actually toe the line- drag.

In inspirational news, I was talking to my mom the other day. You know what's coming. Here's how it went:

Me: So, are you still going to be able to babysit for me when I go for my GYN appointment?
Her: Sure! Don't forget to ask her about your poochie.
Me: My WHAT? (Thinking- is she trying to say coochie? Please, God, no).
Her: You know, whatever you call it- your belly/stomach/thing.
Me: (pause) Stream of expletives.

Okay, so my own mother is referring to my (admittedly severely flawed) midsection as a "poochie". Sigh. Her "support" for the reconstruction of said belly has been unflagging, indeed. She seemed genuinely surprised by my pique as she considers the state of things "not my fault". Debatable. Now, the twins did stretch my skin past the point of no return, that's for sure (see pic of the night before they were born- yikes). However, I might not have ended up with the diastasis if I'd had any abdominal tone to begin with. Also, there is the overlying lardiness to consider. Moreover, I'm not sure that apportioning blame really makes a difference- this is part of my body we're talking about.

I also went shopping (at Target, of course) and was trying on a few things. Yowza. Full-length mirrors are NOT my friend. Actually, I should probably put them up all over my house. I'd never eat another bite.

Alrighty. Back in the saddle.