New Junk in a New Trunk

Curves are all the rage these days. And by curves I mean Kardashian, not Mama June. I hate to give Kim K props (because the obsession our country has with her makes me very confused), but I'll be darned if that gal doesn't have the biggest booty on a size 4 waist I ever did see. I also have curves, relatively new ones to me. I have to give mad props to college and to my little humans for blessing me with these randomly placed lumps and bumps that will never land me on the cover of Cosmo. #dreamscrushed

I was always in the 10th percentile for height and didn't make the weight chart at the doctor until I was 15 years old. I weighed 79 lbs as a sophomore in high school. I had the metabolism of a grey hound and ate like a high school football player. Those were the days. Big Mac for lunch? Hell! I'll have two! That'll never show up on my double zero ass (who am I kidding? I wore a kids size 14 at best). Then, one summer it happened. I grew inches. Lots of them. And boobs. Lots of them, too. I have hated my body ever since.

I am am so tired of looking back at pictures of my younger self and wishing I was there again. I do not, in reality, wish I was anywhere but right here. Right now. I have three awesome kids, a smokin' hot husband who loves me (and all of my junk), two border collies that belong on the Iams bag, a beautiful home, and a great career. I'm closer to the big man upstairs than ever before and I have found a way to manage my crazy - for the most part (anxiety meds and blogging sure do help with that, my friends). Why, in the hell, am I so discontent with myself?!?

I know why. It's because I can do better for me. That sounds so cliche. "Be a better you!" "Your only competition is the person you were yesterday." "You won't get a tighter ass by sitting on it." Hokey? Absolutely. But not bullshit. There's a whole lotta truth in those little sayings. I {you} will never be a priority in my {your} life unless I {you} make myself {yourself} one. Sounds obvious, but for moms it is practically impossible. With a little bit of time management and better eating habits (I love baked goods so much, it's weird), I could easily have 45 minutes at the gym, four times a week, and a better ass. I have every excuse not to go. Kids, work, housework, blah, blah, blah. Enough already. Never have I ever said: "Man! I really regret burning that calorie. Could you put that dimple back on my thigh, please?"

Dont worry, I won't post any before and after pics. No one should be subjected to that. I won't start taking pre workout and shit you can only get from other countries to get buff. (Anyone who knows me knows that me on pre workout would likely resemble a hamster on meth.) I just needed to give myself a hard time in a public forum so I can spend the rest of the week getting beach ready. We go on vacation on Friday... hence the sudden motivation to lose a layer of love.

#goals #motivation #momlife #thingstoworkon