Mamavation Monday: In Search of My (waistline)

I want to be Rachel_l. Don't laugh. I'm being totally serious right now. Bottom line?

She makes 190 pounds look gooooood. And back in the day, folks, I made 190 look gooood, too.

I was 185 on my wedding day, peeples. And I'd love to look like that again, even if just for a minute, before I get knocked up again.

Don't ask me what I weigh right now, because I don't know. But you can bet your ass I would tell you if I felt like digging out my scale right now. (I'll rectify that little tidbit and get my digits, no matter how astronomical they may be.) I can, however, tell you, that I am rocking the Pleasantly Plump and thinking Gabriel Iglesias may want to have his people call my people because I could totally spice up his Fluffy not Fat act right about now.

My hourglass is a bit too soft. My face a bit too full. My guns hiding in the baby fat I so easily gained over three years ago and have woken up swearing off every day since pushing Buttercup into the world.

The song and dance may be getting old. But I like to think I'm still in the running because even with my self-side-lining, I haven't permanently given up on ever rocking 190 again. I was toned. I was healthy. I wasn't bone thin and obsessed with what the scale said. I was H-E-A-L-T-H-Y.

But a lot of time has passed since I saw the underside of 200. And a lot of mental garbage has managed to pile itself back up in the little parts of my head that I had worked so hard to clear out and clean up.

I was bulimic for a long time. I'll write about it more in a future post. Tonight, I will simply say that overcoming an eating disorder doesn't just mean eliminating the behavior. It means readjusting your thinking and finding new ways to cope. And I'll admit that while I'm beyond the binging and purging, I'm not exactly getting A's on my mental outlook report card.

Every day I wake up thinking today is the day I will get my ass in gear and just DO it already because I am still paying for that gym membership and I do have a jogging stroller that was nowhere near free and I do want to get pregnant again at a much lower weight to lessen the chance of complications...and every night I go to sleep thinking tomorrow must be the day instead. I had too much laundry to do. The dishes had to be taken care of. The Husband was off of work and I didn't want to ruin his fun by saying I needed to workout instead of driving all around town with Buttercup. Plenty of excuses that all tell me I got comfortable with my after-baby body and began to accept it as the new me without having realized it until very, very recently. (Like just now.)

So am I saying I am giving up for realz this time? Hell no. I'm just saying this is me. I'm not perfect and never claimed to be. But maybe I need a good swift kick from outside of my own head to get me going.

How honest can I be?

* I am not working out. (Unless you count cleaning my house. Which I don't.)

* I am allowing for too many "Well, today won't hurt" treats. They might be nicely balanced with my clean eating meals, but's not helping. Like, at all.

* I need to get serious. Now. Today. Yesterday. Tomorrow. This isn't just about the size of my ass or wanting to find my waist again. This is about my health...and the medical issues which are only being compounded by the fact that I can't seem to motivate myself by myself.

What do you say, girls? Think I can outsmart myself?