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The Heat is On

The Heat is On

No. Not the Pontiac/Beverly Hills Cop tune. The heat is on for me to lose (TYPO story? I wrote “love” by accident.. but Freud posits there are no accidents) those last 29 pounds. Some of you kind souls my recall my blog from three years ago, chronicling my journey to lose the baby weight.

Well, he’s three now. Need I say more?

In short: my diet of unicorn farts and false hopes is not working for me.

Bloody scale. It actually read 153.2 when I woke this morning. But I guess I drink very heavy half-decaf
Bloody scale. It actually read 153.2 when I woke this morning. But I guess I drink very heavy half-decaf

I know we mums need to forgive ourselves our daily indulgences (for such is my crime). I know we need to respect our own body shapes and sizes and other variables. But I should not be 154. I am not tall enough. According to my current hip girth, I should be 6’2″.

And more than that, I worry that because of my “advanced maternal age” as the doctors’ say, that my extra pounds are just, well, not good for me.

I indulge. Not terribly. But clearly enough.

I’m a gym rat too.  I do my three miles on alternate days, pump iron, squat and stretch and grunt like a constipated elephant. Yoga when I can. Mediate, exfoliate (there’s a few grams there). Hydrate.

You get the idea.

But let’s be honest. It’s about the food. I don’t eat a lot, I nibble. But I nibble the good stuff: handfuls of pistachios, spoons of Nutella. I eat lots of good stuff too: raw veggies, proteins, vitamins and minerals, fresh fruit.

It’s the other nibbles. The “calorie-rich” goodness we humans all crave. No one gets fat nibbling grapes. I’m going back to my primal days, about a thousand generations ago, when I lived in a weird desert-like place and had to scrounge for insects and grubs. So when I morphed to this time-space continuum, I went bonkers.

So today begins another beginning. Only ONE spoonful of Nutella. Only 20 pistachios. I can’t up the gym rattiness. I’m pretty good in that regard (and I’m sure my few extra pounds are actually a good bit of muscle mass). But no more bonus round of nummie-nums. Just a bit.

I have instructed hubby to hide the Nutella. Well, I texted messaged him. Actually, I haven’t yet, but I will, once I post this. Probably. Unless I forget. Please help me remember.


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