Urgh! No Baby to Blame the Weight On

Today I had a rude awakening in a Walmart fitting room. I looked in the mirror and almost didn't recognize myself. Well, that's not entirely true. My face I am quite familiar with. It's the rest of me that has transformed into a 31-year-old, 5 pounds here, 10 pounds there, Mountain Dew drinking blob! YUCK!

I remember when I was 16 and saw old people (31-year-olds) and thought that my perfectly trim body would never become like that. I was wrong. To be fair, I know lots of people who are 31 (and older) who look fabulous and run marathons and drink carrot juice for dinner. I am just not one of them.

And, please don't get the wrong impression from the title of this post. I re-read it and it almost sounds like I am sad not to have a baby. If I had a baby, believe me, the situation would be far more grim. I am perfectly happy to have a 6-year-old baby. No more babies for me. It just seems like many other women my age have a baby (or two) to blame the weight on. That's all. (And, a valid, wonderful excuse a baby is!)

Anyhow, for fun, I was thinking of listing all of the excuses (in leiu of a baby) I could come up with for allowing myself to look like a 31-year-old blob. On the top of the list would be my jealousy of cola drinkers who have a potable alternative to their addiction. (Mountain Dew drinkers do not! Diet Mountain Dew tastes like lake water.) But, I suppose a whole long list would not be very productive. I really just need to give up on the soda all together and move my butt. So that is what I will do. Starting tomorrow. Maybe.