Where Is My Six Pack?

Me. Everyday.

So once upon a time I used to just want to be skinny. Like really skinny.  And then I realized that looking like Nicole Richie in 2007 wasn't the bees-knees...it's all about being FIT. Or something like that. So now that I'm 27ish, I want to be fit. 

Let's be honest, I'll never have a 6 pack. (You can thank my daughter for being so huge that she stretched my stomach skin out so now I have enough to cover Montana. Do you need some stomach skin? I have some. I'll sell give it to you. And don't get me started on my cute little horseshoe tattoo on my hip that has now morphed into some sort of abstract representation of octopus tentacles. We'll save that for another blog.

**(Listen kids, you're parents are right. Wait to get tattoos until you're like 80. You'll be done growing and your skin will already be saggy. It won't make a difference.)

Anyways, back to this "being fit" business. A little over a year ago I joined this amazing village called Stroller Strides. (Fit4Mom Corona HOLLA!!) And after I traumatized my children by falling on my butt and ripping my pants on my first day, I totally got into it. I made friends and got great workouts. It's great. Join. You won't regret it. I hated running (and I STILL do) but something about being passed up by a pregnant mom pushing a double stroller uphill really motivates you.

But its so hard. Some days I envision myself getting ripped, and other days I try to convince my 3 year old that he NEEDS a corn dog right now and we should go get some. Then I debate about how many corndogs I can order before he sells me out and tells the cashier that mommy is going to eat 4 "torn dogs" when we get home. Little brat.

Just GLORIOUS

Ugh. Until the day my six-pack arrives, I shall remain living in my yoga pants. Yoga pants are God's gift to moms...in case you didn't know. Why else would they feel so magical?

Bottom line is I HAVE to workout, I just loooooove food way too much not to. I'm also afraid my adoration for eating is genetic... my sweet (pleasantly plump) daughter loves to eat, too. When she knows it's mealtime she'll sit in her little chair and grunt and scream until her food is served. As soon as I put her plate in front of her, she claps. If for some reason her brother is taking too long to sit down and eat, she'll eat his too. It's survival of the fittest in this household!



If any of you are like me, I hope you have peace in knowing that you're not alone in your gluttonous desires. Let me know if you ever want to go on a run together...we can get corndogs after! ;)