Show and Tell (No, it's not a pony)

I'm taking the lead of many other far more experienced writers out there and putting a bit of my work out there for you to see every now and then. Right now, I'm working on a couple of different projects including a memoir which I have tentatively titled, "Baby Ph(f)at: Adventures in Motherhood, Weight Loss, and Trying to Stay Sane." I'm trying to get moms to email me or tweet me (@aspiringmama everybody!) with little blurbs about their own experiences with struggling to lose the baby weight long past the time it's acceptable to use said baby as the excuse. So I posted the following on the private online moms group I have belonged to since I was about four months pregnant, and then I decided I liked the blurb enough to use as an intro in the book.

Posted to private mom group

by Me

August 2, 2009

I want a funny, honest, snarky read for moms who can relate to the truth. While there are a few lucky ones, the rest of us are not walking out of the hospital in our pre-pregnancy jeans. More likely, we are leaving the maternity ward looking like we still belong there.

"When are you due" ask kind strangers as they reach for our still swollen bellies. Maybe our children are with daddy or perhaps we have left them with the sitter for some much needed "Me" time. Either way, there is no outward evidence to match up with the baby belly we are sporting. We raise an eyebrow, defensive. Where the hell does this asshole get off?

"I'm not pregnant." we respond stiffly. "In fact, I gave birth six months ago."

Or maybe it was six years. In any case, our bodies were irrevocably changed the moment we crossed into that once foreign land known as "Motherhood." The world no longer revolves around us. Our needs are not foremost in our minds. The roles of wife and mother (what baby/toddler/child/teenager needs) now comes first. Who has time to devote to a regular workout schedule when trying to juggle diaper changes, play dates, laundry, soccer games, parent/teacher conferences, and that precious little thing called sanity?

But...well...there are those who are living proof that it can be done. And to be perfectly blunt, think it needs to be done. I'm not saying to let the kids go feral and start hunting the neighborhood in packs to secure their own chow in order for Mommy to get a few precious moments to herself for some power yoga and a nice skim latte, but it is necessary to refocus our lives in order to keep ourselves somewhere at the top of that all important "to-do" list. Because if we lose ourselves in the effort to be all that we can be to our kids, what are we really giving them?

So here it is, ladies. My journey to the Pudge and Back. My efforts to get in shape, set a good example for my daughter, and hopefully lessen my chances of a shitty pregnancy the next time around since I plan on being a few pounds lighter. My life: For your enjoyment. Feel free to point and laugh. I probably would be too if this wasn't me.

It's time to get busy and find my body; the one I lost when I pushed a baby out and let myself go to hell. Just let me change this diaper first.

X-posted at Bad Mommy Blogger