This is the second attempt at writing this blog entry. Hopefully all goes well. As an aside:
I EFFING HATE MY EFFING COMPUTER!!!!AAAARRRGGGGGHHHH!!!
Ok, I'm better now.
As I'm sure you've heard me mention before, I'm not entirely happy with my body shape. Of course it's not what it used to be. I'm not 20 anymore, and I've had two children which stretched my muscles and skin all to hell. I could lose 25 pounds and I'd still be saggy. Right now I'd be just fine with 10 lbs.
I know I need to tone up.
I know I need some cardio/aerobic exercise.
I know I need to stop eating all my baking!!
I also know that I've been coming to terms with the fact that I'll NEVER wear a bikini again without the aid of either A)surgery to remove the extra fat/skin/bulging veins/unsightly stretch marks or B)some sort of lobotomy/medication/hypnosis to make me not care about showing off all the above things in public.
It's ok to come to terms with being not so attractive, right? Or is it like giving up? Because according to my DH, it's not ok. He has some idealistic vision of me in his head looking like I did when I was in college. He actually thinks this is attainable again. Pfffftt.
I wish he would be like other husbands and just tell me I'm beautiful to him no matter what. I wish he would realize the gift and sacrifice of bearing his children. I also wish he would look in a mirror.
He's no prize. He's probably gained 20 pounds since college, and at least I have the excuse of bearing children!!
Lately he looks fatter to me. I see it in his gut, his chest, arms and most of all, his face and neck. It's not enough for me to say, "Ugh, you disgust me, where's my blindfold?", because he's still him. But it is enough to make me bite my tongue a little when I see him walking around in the bedroom.
And I do bite my tongue. Because my mom always told me, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all!" Plus I've been on the receiving end of his criticism, and the truth hurts, y'all. I know my remarking on his weight gain would only lead him to remark on my own body, and I really don't want to hear it. It's not like I don't think about it mostly every damn day!
So I've tried to subtlely suggest that he get back to playing ballhockey. A few times. To no avail.
Yesterday I stupidly tried to stand in the kitchen and take my own measurments for a bathing suit I desperately need and was hoping to purchase online. (That takes the pain out of bathing suit shopping somehow, doing it online.) L said, "Are you trying to see how fat you are Mommy?"
I have no idea where he got that from, as I've always tried to be conscientious about not dwelling on fat and body image around my kids. He must have got it from his father.
So I swallowed my pride and said, "No I'm trying to get a measurement so I can buy a bathing suit."
DH didn't miss a beat. He piped up immediately to claim, "Yes, we both need to work on losing some weight."
I ask you, did I ask for a comment like that? Did I set myself up for that? It wasn't like I was complaining about my size or weight or anything. I was just innocently taking measurements.
Why did he have to drag me into that? Couldn't he just have said he needed to lose weight, and hoped his initiative would catch on? At least aside from my normal 1-5 lb fluctuations, I have remained the same weight for the past few years.
Just for that, I'd like to work hard and lose weight and tone up. Then I could throw it in his face and call him a lard-ass next time he says something like that. But I'd have to hide it from him, and that would be kind of difficult.
Or maybe that was his secret agenda. To goad me into doing just that.
Maybe I'll sit around eating chocolate for the next month and gain another ten pounds just to spite him.
HAH! Take that lard ass!!