Fear and Loathing at Los Betos.

Ok. The subject of this update is almost completely bogus.

Los Betos has nothing to do with this post. I was just trying to come up with a clever title. And this update has little to do with fear as well.

But it does have to do with loathing and food, so that's why I feel I can get away with it.

And, I will warn you, it’s a very selfish, hormonally-driven update.

I write because realized last night that I'm currently on the chunky side of town. This should not come as a shock to me considering that I’m approaching my mid-30s and popped out my third child in four years 8 weeks ago, but, still, I was saddened to make this discovery.

As a general rule I don't really notice my body. In fact, typically I don't even look at my body for many moons after giving birth for fear it will drive me into a state of post-partum depression. I also try really hard to make sure that no matter what my outside looks like, my inside is more attractive – and I believe that really if you’re clean and have a smile on your face people don’t notice much else anyway.

Oh, how my vanity was tested!

I had to wear a dress to a wedding last night. I don't have any maternity dresses but I had two normal dresses that I could squeeze my post-partum hips into.

Though it wasn’t going to be comfortable, when push came to shove I wasn't going to go nekkid to the wedding so I chose the nifty little brown knit number that included the convenient feature of being able to nurse Mikayla without pulling my whole dress over my head.

(Important as I really don't want to be nekked.. At all.)

Anyway, long story short, Isaiah took a lot of really beautiful pictures of our kids and some not so beautiful ones of me. When I went back through to edit them I was appalled to discover that my chicken legs and arms were looking anything but scrawny, my bust was wide and spread out and my tummy still looked like it had a resident! Oh! The Horrors!

I was confronted with the knowledge that when you wear non-maternity clothes – that’s a pair of pants (or anything) without elastic waist band - while your belly still has the consistency of a loaf of bread dough set out to rise you are simply not going to be pleased with the result.

That's where the loathing comes in.

Now see, it all comes in a full circle from the title... I’m full of loathing, fearful of how bad it will hurt to pull out the Pilates and start doing it, and definitely going to be avoiding Los Betos.

And that’s all I have in the inane updates department for tonight.

JJ