My (somewhat selfish) rant

I used to be thin. And lean. And a size 6. I used to love going to the gym. I never had a second thought about walking around in a bathing suit. I used to wear underwear that could never be categorized as "granny panties".

These days, I'm strongly concerned about the kangaroo pouch that has formed at my waistline, and the overwhelming gravitational pull of my behind down to my knees. I have no idea how things got so *jiggly* (as my 5 year old so lovingly puts it). And, although I am a huge connoisseur of cheese, I don't particularly care for it on my thighs. I look in the mirror, and don't recognize the person looking back at me. I find myself sending subliminal death threats to women I see (especially those with infants) who look like they fit back into their pre-prego clothes 5 minutes after giving birth.

If I hear one more comment like "but you have 2 beautiful children, and that's all that matters" or "but you're so pretty", I swear I will start punching people in the face. And my all time favorite from *skinny* moms: "I'm so busy chasing my kids around, I don't have time to eat". As if I'm not running around after my own 2 maniacal offspring ALL day long. Trust me, if that's how easily my metabolism worked, I'd be practically invisible at this point! And I don't know if I can take another Facebook post about how someone fit back into their pre-prego jeans and it took 2 whole months!! Are you people for real? My "baby" is almost TWO, and I'm not even sure I'm back to my pre-prego weight because my scale met an *untimely* and unfortunate death on the driveway.

I don't do the "D" word, because I like to eat too much. I try "moderation" and portion control, but realistically, to even get a meal these days requires me to inhale it as fast as possible, like some sort of rabid animal. And forget cooking. Period. If it requires more than boiling a pot of water, then it's going to suck way too much time and energy out of my life.

Why can't losing weight be as peaceful as it is to climb into a hot bubble bath with a glass of wine & a good book?? Or for that matter, why can't I enjoy it as much as I do eating?? Isn't knowing what the end result would be, good enough to force me into spending hours at a gym?? And why is it, that on the days I'm FULL of motivation & determination to get outside and go for a long walk or hike, one of my children will, inevitably, start projectile vomiting, or there will be an unexpected, colossal downpour??

I feel as if I am doomed to be trapped in this unrecognizable body for the rest of my life. Somebody please tell me there is hope!! Or, at least a *magic skinny pill* that is being developed?!