Then when I was pregnant for the first time, I resigned myself to never being the same again. I got ready to gain at least 50 pounds and gave away all my smallest-sized pants.
Somehow, though, I managed to escape the full impact of both of these experiences.
During my freshman year of college I did gain almost 10 pounds from eating junk food from school vending machines and ordering pizza late at night with my roommates, but--note--not the full 15.
And after I had Ben, I lost all of the weight I had gained PLUS a few more pounds (although I discovered that my shape would never be the same again!).
The same thing happened even faster after having Janae, and--eventually--after having Alaina, too.
But now that I am about to turn @0, it seems that my luck has run out. While I’m sure I should have been waiting for this to happen (what, with all the Krispie Kremes and my love of baking), I can’t help but be a little surprised.
I’ve never claimed to have a great figure, or to not have to worry about my weight--like most women, I’ve always wished to be a little thinner and to have a better shape, and I’ve gone through times when I’ve dieted or exercised obsessively. But I have always thought of myself as being at least kind of thin.
Things have changed, however.
For example, when I buy clothes, I have always fit into a size small. It was such a safe bet that a "small" would fit that I would often buy a shirt without even trying it on.
Now, though, this will only lead to a trip back to the store and several minutes in the customer service line as I sheepishly return the too-small item.
The other day I was looking for a jacket--I tried a small, and I couldn’t get it around me to zip up!
You might be thinking that this could easily be explained . . . maybe the clothing industry has been making clothes smaller and smaller, so that what is now called a "medium"--or even a "large"--is what used to be a small.
True . . . but unfortunately it is not just the clothes.
The scale also seems to be conspiring against me.
Just before we moved, our scale’s battery ran out, and I didn’t replace it for a couple of months.
When I finally got a new battery, and stepped on the scale expecting to see an extra pound or two, I saw that I had gained SEVEN pounds.
Normally when I want to lose weight a few days without sweets will do the trick.
But that was my younger self. Now, I can go without sweets for a couple of weeks and still see no change.
In fact, if I happen to eat a few kernels of popcorn in the evening, I will have gained another pound by morning. Without fail.
You might be thinking that the new battery in the scale is defective, or that our new floor is uneven and causes the scale not to work properly.
True . . . but doesn’t that just sound like we’re making excuses?
And back in December an interesting incident occurred. Just before Jason and I celebrated our ninth anniversary, I had a terrible stomach flu that kept me sick for four or five days.
By the end of the week, I was back to what I will call my "pre-middle-aged weight" . . . and just in time to fit into my wedding dress (sometimes I participate in that sick tradition of trying it on on my anniversary to see if it still fits).
But little by little over the next week I got back up to my "usual weight plus seven"--which now seems to be my fixed point.
How unlucky can a seven get?
1 comments:
How come you didn't put a picture of you +7lbs?:) I'm sure you still look thin!!
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