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Forgettable Fat Mom

July 25, 2011

I’m in beat up mode so bear with me.


Nearly six months ago I wrote a post about being a fat mom.  And last week, on our annual friends and family vacation in Palm Desert, I again was the fat mom I dread so much.  When I couldn’t find an excuse not to hang out at the resort pool, I sat in my usual place at the edge of the pool and watched my husband and daughter play in the water.  When I did get into the pool, I made damn certain my towel was close by for my exit and went into complete panic mode when someone else swiped it for their own.


The first day out, I sat next to my husband at the kiddie pool and said “you should be ashamed” referring to how fat I was compared to the other bikini-clad moms we were with.  He scoffed and said “have you looked around?”  He was right.  I certainly wasn’t the biggest but I definitely wasn’t the smallest.  I was somewhere in the middle and maybe that’s even worse.  Forgettable.  


Today, I was chatting with a friend who recently spent a weekend away with girlfriends – all which are skinny or really fit – and she was talking about how she was the only one there in a tankini.  We laughed about it and I told her she was silly but I felt her pain.  I hate wearing a tankini.  I hate wearing stupid swim shorts because of the way they cling to my every dimple when wet.  I hate that I search endlessly online for a suit instead of confidently cruising into Target for a cute two-piece.  I hate that my bathing suit bottoms are the size of granny panties and that ever since I had my daughter — and breast cancer — I can’t find a bathing suit top that doesn’t have underwire and support for days.  Pre-baby, my boobs were my saving grace in a bathing suit.  Not so much anymore.


For six months I could have been doing something about being a fat mom.  I could be eating better instead of binging at night on sticky sweet treats.  I could be using that fancy gym membership I pay dearly for each month.  But instead, I bitch and moan about how I look and feel.  I secretly criticize friends and other women wearing adorable bikinis or even one-pieces and jealously wonder how the hell they manage all the things in their lives and still take care of themselves.  I wonder thoughts like “I’ve only had one baby and she’s had three.  Why does she have a flat belly and I don’t?”  For six months, I’ve done all this and not a damn thing else.  


The other thing I get hung up on is that I don’t want my friends and family to look at me and think “wow, Wendy really doesn’t take care of herself.”  So, I suck my tummy in or wear Spanx to smooth out my dimples but know inside that I am not fooling anyone.  I am not taking care of myself.  And it’s showing – badly. 


I need a plan.  I need a jumpstart.  I don’t want to be in this place next summer or the summer after that.


Do you ever feel the same way?  Are you successful in managing everything else in your life including yourself?





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{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }

Natalie February 21, 2012 at 5:20 pm

Wendy! I am so with you! I do suck it up and get in the pool, but I have been in so many situations where I feel like “the fat one.” I hate looking at myself in the full-length mirror. Gray is my new black- maybe because I feel like it will help me blend in with…. more gray? I don’t know. I’ve tried fitting working out into my schedule, and I think the only solution I am coming around to is that I will have to get up at o-dark-thirty to workout on my own. I came to this post via your casting couch post- can’t wait for more info about that! So exciting! And so happy to have found your blog!

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