Monday 30 April 2012

Yummy Mummy Syndrome

As a mother of small children, I have become increasingly aware of the demand on us mommy's to fit the stereotype of "yummy mummy". Anyone who knows me, or follows my blog, is pretty aware, that I am surely not one of these women, although admittedly, I wish I was. The entire concept of "yummy mummy" is right up my alley. I always thought I would be the mom, who bounced back after childbirth, hair colored, make up done, dressed in my LuLu Lemon, strolling the streets with my saucy stroller and fashionable baby in tow.
Reality is a kick in the ass....
Not one of those things has ever happened to me....not even once, in the last 6 years, since I pushed out the small people that I grew.  Disappointing, isn't it?  I was determined to not "lose" myself. A struggle that I continue to battle. However, the image of "yummy mummy" still plagues me, and I have now switched my vision to "m.i.l.f"....because let's face it, by the time I actually get my shit together and lose this weight,  there's a pretty good chance that my son will be graduated from high school.
The "best" part of having a weight struggle, is having friends who do not. I love my friends. They are amazing women, who in their own rights have earned the body's that they have. They have worked out, and struggled to achieve the amazing physic that they are blessed with. Some of my friends on the other hand, are just born with bodies made of rubber bands, and have snapped back into shape faster than humanly possible. I will admit to disliking them slightly for this....I am mature enough to cop to my own jealousy. I will also admit, that I have a jealous hatred for all you ladies who come out of the hospital with flat stomachs. "Dislike". At least try to look a little shitty...would ya? 
Now, by no means am I crapping on the ladies who have amazing genetics, and work their asses off to achieve their optimum weight. I applaud you....with envy. I am just saying, that for those of us who struggle, it tends to be a reminder of our own failures. Now, that isn't true for everyone, but it is something I definitely admit to being my reality.  There are many a times when I spot a new mommy, carrying her infant in a bucket seat....looking amazing, and I curse you silently in my head.  I kind of hate you, just a little bit. But I guess if I'm honest....truly honest...I kind of hate me a little more than I hate you. I suppose that my 6 and 4 year old, no longer are considered "baby weight". 
Damn it....
I suppose that instead of being a "yummy mummy", I am a bit more of a "bummy mummy"? Yes, I have a caboose, and hips, and a tummy....and long boobs? What the hell happened there, anyways? It isn't enough that I have to haul around this giant ass, but my boobs have gone to hell too? I think that after we are done birthing our children, the government should give each mommy a choice...a boob job or tummy tuck.  Now I realize that this isn't something that everyone wants, but I'm just saying that productivity in the work force would probably go up.  Now I know what you're thinking...wtf? But just think about it for a second. 
There is a sports team (who...I don't know) that instead of giving the players the bonus', they give it to the wives, because they did their research.  Do you know what they found? "Happy wife. Happy life"!  
Let's be really honest here ladies. If you had a slamming body (yes I realize some of you do....) wouldn't you feel better about yourself? I mean, we all have our insecurities, I get that. But let me tell you this. If I went to bed tonight and woke up with Jennifer Aniston's body, I swear to you that I would probably spend the first week naked and I would be a savage in bed. Do you not think that my husbands moral at work wouldn't boost by about 100%? 
I mean it.  I would wear a bikini everywhere. Yes people...everywhere! I don't care that I live in Canada and it's winter. I don't give a rat's ass. Naked....that's all I'm saying.
But instead, I think I'll finish this post, and sit my fat ass on the couch, and finish the bag of chips calling my name from the cupboard. O.k...and the ice cream too.
I suppose I may not be a yummy mummy....or a milf or whatever sexually explicit name you'd like to give those hotties out there.  Instead, I'll just be me. I like chips, pizza, ice cream and what ever other food is too high in cholesterol and fat, and sugar. I struggle. I'll most likely never be thin again, and I am becoming increasingly lazy. But I'm kind, honest and a good friend. I love my family, and I work hard. So I stand tall....big ass and all.  This "bummy mummy" is becoming happy with who I've become. I'll still quietly curse all you hotties, with your perfect bodies, and perky boobs, but I am on this journey for self acceptance. I suppose that means accepting boobs that rest comfortably at my waist.  Screw you gravity.....