Post Baby Body Debut


To my ever-expanding list of “things to do to avoid settling down and writing,” I have added “perusal of gossip rags online.”  I know.  It’s sad and getting sadder over here in Banshee-ville.  I mean, the least I could do is clean the house or wash some clothes.


I just read the most scintillating headline on People magazine’s website (having nothing to do with she who is famous for no good reason).  Apparently, a photog snapped a picture of Natalie Portman debuting her post-baby body.  Of course, Nat thought she was just walking the dog. The article went on to say that it appears as if Natalie has lost all or most of her baby weight.

Wow.  How did she do it?

I’m sad to say that I will not be debuting my post baby body anytime soon.  That would be sad on its own but it is sadder still since my last baby was born almost 12 years ago.  I know, I know…the shame of it all.  I should throw myself into hot boiling lava such is the shame.

I have friends with kids the same age as my youngest who debuted their post baby bodies within weeks of their babes being born, not decades.  I’m pretty sure they partake in something called physical exercise which I’ve remained stubbornly unfamiliar with.  It looks hard.  My husband comes home from his attempts at this thing called exercise all sweaty and smelling very foul.  I’d just rather not.

Then, there’s eating.  I enjoy it immensely and I’m afraid I would have to give it up almost entirely if I wanted to debut a new, post baby body.  Until recently, I had a supersonic metabolism.  What was there wasn’t particularly buff or ripped but there wasn’t much extra me to worry about.  Now, if I so much as look at a piece of cake, I gain.  This strange new, midlife weight is stubborn.  Once on, it doesn’t want to leave.

It’s not fair.  Whose bright idea was it to make the end of a woman’s reproductive cycle (which has been the equivalent of Hell on Earth for the past thirty-seven years) a time in which she now has to worry about un-loseable weight?  It would be nice to be able to relax…have a doughnut.  But, no.  I can’t now because my metabolism has ground to a complete halt.  I can’t even look at a doughnut – not even a whole wheat flour, organic free-range doughnut.

I have a new doctor and during the course of our first meeting, she asked if I exercised.  I shrugged.  My daughter practically exploded.  Later, my daughter gently suggested I go for a run with her.  She runs a 6 1/2 minute mile.  I run like a 3 legged antelope with one of the three legs shorter than the others.  It’s not pretty to watch and it hurts.  Someone might even shoot me thinking I need to be put out of my misery.

Now might be the time – for exercise, not shootings.  All indications now say that my midlife and years beyond might be miserable if I don’t get my act together.  Studies show that exercise, even moderate exercise, can ward off many of the aches and pains associated with aging.  Any extra pounds should be shed and what’s left behind should be converted from jiggle to something called muscle.

Can I do it?  Can I change almost  a half century (just typing that nearly caused me to faint) of poor eating and poorer exercise habits?  Might my knees stop aching constantly if I wasn’t carrying around these 15 extra pounds?  Heart disease runs in my mom’s family which scares the bejeesus out of me (but not enough to pull a Clinton and go vegan – not yet anyway – and don’t tell me that man isn’t finding some way to deep fry his tofu).

So, beginning September 1, I will embark on yet another adventure.  In the coming days, I will research “diet” changes that we can easily make including the whole family.  We are getting a puppy in the next couple of weeks (we hope) and that will force me off my ever-widening ass and out into nature with him/her.  I don’t expect everyone to be on board – my husband is notorious for stubbornly refusing to change his eating habits, maintaining that exercise is enough.  We’ll see.  If he starts seeing results in me, maybe he’ll join.

Until then, maybe just a wee piece of cake…oh, wait.  That’s bad, isn’t it.  I see something that might be fruit in a bowl over yonder.   I guess I’ll give it a try…


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