A lot of you have emailed me asking for a post on ‘body after baby’. So body after baby it is…
The first thing that came to mind was: what body? Seriously, in my third trimester it’s like someone put an air-machine up my ass and forgot to turn the bloody thing off! So my Whinos, there is body after baby… there’s just a whole lot of it!
My Little Orange Crush and I spent the morning at the community pool. As much as he loves it, the Mommy & Me swims have also been a place of solace for me. It makes me feel better being surrounded by other mothers whose bodies have been equally ravaged by pregnancy as mine. Cellulite is like the new black!
We all frolic together. Unified mommas, bulging out of our x-large Walmart bathing suits… without judgement or prejudice. And while I’m sure some of them are secretly relishing the fact that their stomach is just a tad more deflated than the next one, most of us join forces proudly displaying our soft, doughy cauliflower stomachs. Tiger stripes, right? Ugh…
But this week was different. I looked around at my fellow queen-size mommies only to realize that they were looking pretty good. WTF? No one sent me the ‘let’s-get-our-body-back’ memo. Meanwhile, I’ve been frozen in time, justifying my lumps and bumps on the fact that “I just had a baby!”… 8 months ago. But whatev’…
It’s a hard sell now. I get it. Time to pull up my Spanx and get movin’…
But I refuse to embark on one of these trendy bark eating diets. Nibbling on a toilet paper and lettuce sandwich just isn’t my thing.
All that said, your emails have given me the motivation to get movin’. So here’s my pledge to you, my Whinos:
– I promise not to pretend to go for a jog only to hide in the forest with a bottle of tequila, pack of smokes while popping Percocet. You’d be surprised by the size of the mommy sorority that hides out in the forest… Kappa Mamma Phat!
– I promise not to hoard bon bons down my pants. I will eat kale chips… and I will enjoy them, dammit!
– I will have a glass of water in between bottles of wine. A liquid diet of sorts… Plus, Crystal Lite Diaries just doesn’t have the same ring to it, you know?
– I will engage in racial food discrimination, ’cause colour does matter! No more white… Brown only!
– My name is Red Whino and I’m a Chocoholic! First step is admitting to your addiction, right? Next step is finding a sponsor: Oh Henry… Won’t you be my sponsor?
– When I’m grocery shopping and those evil inner voices tell me to take a stroll down the baking aisle, I will yell out with conviction “No. No. I’m not baked”. You guys hear the voices too, right?
– I will take the 30-day Squat Challenge. So if you happen to see me walking around like I have a canoe between my legs, you’ll know why. And no Big J, this is not the kind of squatting you’re thinking of!
– I promise that I will no longer ask Big J to ‘watch the baby’ only to hide in the pantry and shove Ruffles down my throat… with a bottle of wine and a straw.
So there you have it, folks… how I plan on going from fat to phat. Feel free to join me… let’s get our Yummy Mummy on together. We can show up at the pool with our long, lean, mean bods. No running on the deck boys and girls… cause you just might fall and chip a tooth on my rock solid ass!
Jeezuz… may the force be with us!
Red Rhino Whino
I love getting emails from you with requests for future posts. I’m more than happy to oblige. Just don’t ask me to write about quantum physics, investments, or vampires. Otherwise keep em’ comin’…