I wish I were one of those people who dealt with stress by not eating. The ones who lose a dress size every time they’re worried, in other words, the people everybody hates.
Instead, I find myself unable to stop stuffing my face. When I’m with the girls, I feel calm and, well, like a mom. I change bums, get cuddles, and pump. I’m busy and love every minute. As soon as I leave the room for my lunch, I cannot stuff my face enough. My lunch bag is so full one might imagine I’m stocking up for winter.
Nighttime is even worse. With Buds in bed and Jas loving junk food just as much, if not more than I do, I just cannot put the food down. God forbid anyone who gets in the way of my snacking, including said dear husband who should know my affection for double stuff oreos is almost worrisome.
After Buds was born, I hated the way I looked, but got moving and joined Weight Watchers and lost 70 pounds (that shit is real, despite their terrible choice in spokespeople). This time, I just can’t imagine worrying about points and portions and I so wish I could snuggle the girls up for a walk, but that’s not happening yet.
Do I wish I could fit into my clothes better? Absolutely. Is it a priority? Nope. So pass the damn oreos.