I have a relationship I simply can't give up. Well, a few, but one that bothers me the most. I love it so much I haven't tried to give it up. But I always feel like hell after.
I have an awful addiction to sweets.
Tonight, when choosing between the gym and stuffing my face with a parfait and watching Vin diesel, guess which one won? (I'll give you a hint- the parfait was peach flavored.)
I have gained a less than amazing 17 pounds in the last 2 months. My pre pregnancy pants still fit, thank god, but I am far from where I want to be. In fact, I'm do close to where I started, I can still touch the starting line.
I know I'm usually harder on myself than anyone else is. I wear clothes designed to hide the extra bulges I've acquired. I still wear sweaters in 70 degree weather. I haven't cut my hair in 5 years for fear that shorter hair will make my double chin more noticeable. But other people still say I'm "cute".
My Little Pony is cute. My son eating jello is cute. I am fat.
In case you missed it previously, I'm also terrible at taking a compliment. I can't see it so it baffles me when other people say they can. Maybe being the oldest causes me to strive for perfection I can't obtain. Maybe being good at the things I try has caused me to have false security that I can be good at being healthy without trying so hard.
Or maybe I'm just lazy. Or maybe those people who RUN the entire time on the treadmill intimidate me. There are a lot of those people, and they scare me.
I'm going to start going to the gym more. I have to. As long as Vin diesel isn't on tv. And my husband stops buying me peach parfaits (bastard).