I Want to be Body Positive, But I Want to Lose Weight, Here’s Why

Every time I scroll social media and see women stripping down -both their insecurities and their clothes- and celebrating the imperfections of their bodies, I stop and admire their pictures and marvel at the positive image they portray by showing that all bodies are real, flawed, and worthy of love. It’s beautiful and inspiring.

Their words of body positivity and self-love always cut me to the core: “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to live up to impossible beauty standards. You don’t have to change.”  And they are right, we don’t have to base our self-worth on our size, we don’t have to go to extreme methods to force our bodies into sizes they weren’t meant to fit into, and we don’t have to give in to diet culture.

I want to be body positive but I want to lose weight, and here’s why I think it’s okay to be both.

I don’t care about having a perfectly flat tummy,  I’m unbothered by my faded stretch marks, or the scar above my belly button from an old piercing that stretched out with my expanding uterus during pregnancy. I’ve embraced many of the changes that my body has gone through with age and becoming a mother, and my focus isn’t on perfection or vanity weight.

The weight I’m carrying right now makes me feel sluggish, unhealthy, and puts me in the overweight category, which can come with health risks and have a negative impact on my overall well being. The weight I’m carrying is emotional weight; it reminds me that I’ve been using food as a coping mechanism instead of finding healthy ways to deal with stress. The extra weight is a reminder that I have dealt with a lot of pain this past year and that I’m not only carrying it mentally, but physically too.

I want to lose the extra weight because it symbolizes what I have gone through emotionally and it is a product of something negative. 

The body positivity movement tells me that I should love my body at any size, and while I agree that all bodies are worthy of love at any size, I don’t feel like myself at the size I am now and I know I got here by not taking care of myself and my health. I want to feel healthier and be able to complete a workout without feeling like I’m going into cardiac arrest. I want to have stamina and strength and feel strong and energetic.

I am curvaceous by nature and I embrace it, even at a smaller weight I will always be fuller in the hips, butt and thighs, and although I once tried to fight against my body’s natural curves as an adolescent, I have grown to love it. I accept and love my body’s natural shape and I’m not trying to achieve something that is unsustainable for my body type.  I want to show my body love by eating better, exercising, finding positive ways to deal with stress and getting back to a weight that is healthy for me.

I think it’s okay to both love your body and want to make positive healthy changes in your life that may ultimately lead to carrying less weight and feeling better all around. Overall I don’t think we should shame anyone for their own personal journey with body love, because it’s different for everyone.

 

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19 Memes that Spell Out What Women Want From Their Husbands

Husbands, do you feel like your wife is too complicated to understand and often difficult to please? Well say no more fam, because we have comprised this handy guide in the form of memes that spell out exactly what she wants (and doesn’t want) to help you get into her mind, possibly her pants and to prevent your untimely death.

  1.  LET HER SLEEP, FOR WHEN SHE WAKES SHE MAY BE HORNY.
    According to @snarkybreeders your sex appeal will increase by 400% if you let her enjoy several hours of uninterrupted sleep. Via Snarky Breeders on Instagram.Screenshot_2018-10-16-19-45-18_resized
  2.   TAKE THE KIDS AND LEAVE.
    Just go literally anywhere with the kids for an extended period of time, without prompting or warning.  A week long vacation would be best, but she’ll settle for a few fucking hours of peace.Via Ramblin’ Mama on InstagramScreenshot_2018-10-16-20-56-50_resized
  3.  Wipe the asses, suck the snot out with the nose Frida, and cook the dinner. Maybe not in that order but you get the drift. You’re basically Jason Momoa to your wife now.
    Via Relaxing Mommy on Instagram.screenshot_2018-10-16-20-56-39_resized.png
  4.   Nothing says good old fashioned married people romance like a man who gets up with the kids in the morning. See also #1: Let her Sleep and appendix C: Sex.
    Via Macgyvering Mom on Instagram
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  5.  Dayummm, I think we’re all a little jealous of @whineandcheezits hubby, who is obviously in the running for Husband of the Year Award. I mean, I’m sure we’d all be happy with a man bringing dinner home but guys, SHOOT FOR THE STARS, take notes from this guy, he’s obviously a legend and probably has a lot of sex. Just sayin’
    Via Whine and Cheezits on Instagram Screenshot_2018-10-16-18-08-12_resized
  6. Would you rather be stabbed during an afternoon nap or have sex with your wife? The choice is yours bayybeee.
    Via Not the WORST Mom on InstagramScreenshot_2018-10-16-20-41-20_resized
  7.  If you don’t want to star in an upcoming Netflix murder special featuring your wife as the knife-wielding psychopath, and your balls as the victim, don’t be excessively late.
    Via Marriage and Martinis on InstagramScreenshot_2018-10-16-20-59-11_resized
  8. Her body not only held the humans, but it also expelled the humans, so it’s your turn to experience a little genital discomfort and get the vasectomy bro.
    Via It’s Mommy Hour on InstagramScreenshot_2018-10-16-20-49-19_resized
  9.   I mean, do I really even need to caption this one for you? Everything is out in the open, and it very well could be for you too, if you put the kids to bed tonight, if you know what I’m sayin. *wink, wink*
    Via Mommy Cusses on Instagramscreenshot_2018-09-17-12-46-59_resized-e1543810298219.png
  10.  Send her for some pampering, or on an all expenses paid trip to Tahiti, whatever, just let her enjoy some self-care sans children. Locking herself in the bedroom with cookies isn’t cutting it anymore.
    Via Mom Com NYC on InstagramScreenshot_2018-10-16-21-01-24_resized
  11. Sure, compliments are nice, but telling her she has a nice ass probably won’t get you any. If you’re married with kids, the best way to win her heart is to do your part around the house.  And not just when you want sex guys, we’re on to you. 

Via Marriage and Martinis on Instagram

screenshot_2018-10-16-20-15-17_resized.png

12.  Are you sensing a theme here yet?  Good, because we heard that repetition is important for committing things to long term memory, but if not, there’s always screenshots, using your saved folder, emailing it yourself, tattooing it on your body, whatever it takes.
Via Snarky Breeders on Instagram

screenshot_2018-10-16-21-00-31_resized.png

13.  Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Mother
Mother who?
Mother f*cker, just listen to your wife. Trust me, it’s the strongest form of foreplay.

Via Silky Mamas on Instagram
Screenshot_2018-11-16-10-32-54_resized

14. Be David Beckham. With all the advancements in modern day technology, it’s not crazy to think that you couldn’t pay a few thousand bucks to look like the sexy soccer star. Victoria Beckham always looks ready for action so you know he’s doing something right.

Creator: unknown

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15. Remember the movie Fight Club? Well this is kinda like that except the first rule of being happily married is to NEVER tell your wife to calm down or to stop overreacting, unless of course, you want her to get ragey and try to fight you.
Via Her View From Home on Instagram

. Screenshot_2018-10-16-20-54-18_resized

16.  If you think the romance bar is set too high, think again. Washing her booby machine will have her looking at you like Ariana Grande looked at that Pete dude during their month-long f*ckfest.
Via Mom Unraveled on Instagram

Screenshot_2018-10-16-20-14-24_resized

17.  Did we already mention cleaning the kitchen and putting the kids to bed? Well this time, it involves wine, so there’s bonus points to infinity when you give her wine and take care of some shit around the house. Plus, everyone loves a drunk wife.
Via Macgyvering Mom on Instagram

Screenshot_2018-09-17-12-43-53_resized

18. It’s so much sexier when a man can figure shit out himself, even if it means dumpster diving for those directions you tossed.
Via Goldfish And Chicken Nuggets on Instagram

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19.   Nobody wants an unhappy wife who murders. Prevent premature husband death by keeping a close eye on your drinks and sleeping with one eye open. Just kidding, just do some of the shit on this list on a regular basis and she won’t have to kill you or hire a hitman, plus she might even want to bone you on the regular,  the end.
Via Not the WORST Mom on Instagram

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Birthdays, Hormones and Throwbacks

Tomorrow my first born Brady turns 9, and in typical mom form, I’m over here looking through his damn baby pictures like a blubbering fool and reminiscing on all the Birthdays that have gone by.  During my travels I also stumbled upon the old blog I started when I was pregnant with Brady and amidst all the sweet, sappy memories I uncovered, I also found this gem from week 36 of my pregnancy that made me giggle.  I’ll write something meaningful for his Birthday tomorrow, but in the meantime, let’s travel back to September 3rd, 2009.


I’m a Happy Camper

Week 36. I’m huge. I wear everything I eat; at any given time I have at least 3 food or drink stains on my belly. Everything just seems to land conveniently on my stomach or in my cleavage, and I’m a slob to begin with so this belly is merely accentuating my piggish ways.

Brady is cramped tightly inside my uterus but he still finds a way to constantly move around in there, causing my stomach to take on a life of its own. He practically wedges himself into my sternum when I’m slouching which I’m assuming is his way of telling me to improve my posture and also make some more goddamn room for him. He gets the hiccups constantly, which was cute at first but now it’s averaging about 3 times a day.

So I had my OB appointment this morning and there is nothing new to report except that my car is a piece of shit and there is nowhere to park at the hospital. lol. The 95 mercury “mistake” was puttering all the way to the hospital, revving, stalling and stinking like exhaust fumes as per usual. It never fails to put me in a bad mood just from the mere act or thought of driving it . At the hospital I attempted to park in the visitor lot but after circling it 3 times and finding not one empty space, I got pissy and drove right back out of the lot and straight to my mom’s house. Seriously, why the hell does the stupid machine give you a ticket and let you in the lot if the damn parking lot is full?

Anyways, I showed up at my mom’s house about ready to burst into tears of frustration. “I need you to drive me to the hospital!” I blurted out when she opened the door, which I’m sure is a comforting opening line for any mother to hear. She immediately disconnected the phone with whomever she was talking to, likely assuming I was going into labour or dying.

I quickly reassured her that I was just being hormonal and not bleeding from the eyes or in need of an ambulance. “I’m late for my appointment, my car is a piece of shit that’s dying and there’s nowhere to park at the hospital. Can you drop me off?”
She quickly obliged.

Other than having my va-jay-jay swabbed to be tested for Strep B, the appointment went fine and all is well in pregnancy land. I should be happy that thus far the baby is healthy and that I haven’t had any major complications like gestational diabetes or anything out of the ordinary. All I can ask for is a healthy baby and a delivery that doesn’t kill me. *crossing fingers*

I realize that my blogs are becoming angrier as the pregnancy progresses but that’s just because writing provides a convenient outlet for me to bitch and complain, plus it makes for a more interesting read. Happy stuff gets boring and redundant, but I’ll throw some positivity in here next time just to switch it up.

Until then, fuck everything! 🙂

 

These Days Are Shorter Than They Seem

Mama, I see you. You’re tired. You feel defeated. Maybe you’re unsure how you’ll carry on.

You haven’t had a full night’s rest in days, or maybe even months, and you can’t remember the last time you washed your hair. You’ve lost yourself somewhere between diaper changes, school runs, chasing toddlers and running errands, and it might feel like there is no end.

I promise there will be time again for a clean house and Pinterest meals, and there will be time again for you.

These days are shorter than they seem.

Let the children be little, let them be adventurous, let them simply be. Ignore the dishes a little longer to enjoy the sounds of a house filled with the beautiful crescendo of laughter and squeals, and the pitter patter of their adventurous feet.

Let them love their cherished stuffed toy or blankie, let them love it where ever they need to, until it’s been loved to the brink of falling apart and you painstakingly put it together again.

These days are shorter than they seem.

Relish in their simple joys, their innocent view of the world, and acknowledge every tear. Dance, jump, and get in on the fun, fill their hearts with all the joys you would have wanted as a child. Make the memories count.

Say yes. Yes to forts, and make believe, and tickle fights and snuggles. Say yes to fun and games and stories and magic, and yes to hours spent together cuddled up on the couch.

Admire their faces, study their smiles, enjoy their giggles and glee. Listen intently when they speak because even with so few words they are telling you the most important tales of their hearts.

Let the hugs last a little longer, and hold them a little tighter, look up from your phone a little more; you don’t want to miss the moments that matter.

These days are shorter than they seem.

Those chubby arms that reach for snuggles and those soft cheeks that beg for kisses will grow and change; they won’t reach for you the same, Mama. You might not miss the messes, but you will miss those adorable mischievous smiles that greet you when you catch them climbing the furniture or playing in your makeup.

One day they will say farewell to their beloved stuffed animal or blankie that was their constant companion since birth, and tell you they are a big kid now.

And seemingly one day after that, they’ll no longer need you quite as much. Their giggles will change, their faces will change, they will start to live life their own way. And though you’ll be sleeping more and doing a little less, some part of you will long for them to be little again. You’ll look back at their pictures and wonder where the time went, how they grew so fast, and ask yourself if you could have enjoyed it more.

I know it’s hard, but laugh through the hard times, cry if you need to, and forgive yourself often. Remind yourself that this is one short chapter in a book of many, and it’s the only one you get to write for your children.

These days are shorter than they seem.