I'm not vain, I'm fat!

It's time to get back to Foodie Fridays. The cause of this realization was the gargantuan number of photos taken of myself during a recent visit by my in-laws, and the sad realization that I almost look more pregnant than I did when I was pregnant.

Seriously. My belly is huge. My arms are bigger than they used to be and my legs are still reasonably small, but my mid drift... it's shameful. And embarrassing.

Sadly, I can do very little exercise because of my MS. I really, really need to get back to riding the stationary bike every now and again. No excuses, but timing's an issue with The Boy. And speaking of The Boy, I tried to do some crunches today but he laid on me. Every time I tried!!!

So, in lieu of being an exercise superstar I need to try yet again to do better with my eating. A very tricky endeavour with the Holidays coming up. Soooo... maybe I can find some way to find the time to get my crippled ass onto the bike for some spinning and onto the floor for some crunches, stretches and a bit of yoga. Maybe if wake up earlier? Maybe. We'll see.

Thinking about food

This post at The Heir To Blair reminded me of my own food issues.

What little weight I gained during pregnancy fell off quite quickly, but then eating to make Boy food and far too much inactivity means that I've been gaining again; not weight so much as fat. I still weigh less than I did before I got pregnant, but my once tiny waist as become an unsightly spare tire.

Boo.

In addition to that, I've been contemplating starting a more MS friendly diet. Sadly, the MS diet requires one to cut out fat(all fat, not just butter, cheese and ice cream, but olive oil too!), red meat, legumes and pretty much everything good and tasty in the world.

So therein lies my trepidation. I'm sure following a MS diet would help with my spare tire, it might even help relieve some of my symptoms, but is that all really worth it if it means I have to give up all of my favorite foods?

What to do? What to do?

Open letter to my former hairstylist

Dear Lady Who Destroyed My Hair,

I know that you were proud of the work you did when you chopped off what little hair I had left and gave it a horrendous dye job, but it's been well over two months now and, I gotta say, what you did still makes me cry.

It's not your fault that I cut off my waist-length locks in a fit of postpartum frustration several months before I came to you. Nor is it your fault that I'm of an age where I might seek assistance in hiding the few gray hairs I have growing around my crown. However, when I went to you with a slightly shaggy, chocolate brown bob and asked for you to give me a cut and color that would sustain me until I could grow my hair out to my shoulders, I was not in any way expecting the monstrosity I left the salon with.

I mean, really? Turning me into Kate whats-her-face, hair super short in the back and long enough in the front to hang annoyingly in my eyes. My hair's too freakin' thick and curly for this shiz, even if I asked for it. Which I didn't. You didn't even leave it long enough for me to push it back behind my ears. I have a child!!! But am forced to jerk my head to get my hair out of my eyes like those emo kids on South Park.

And then dying it nearly black and bleaching big, ugly chunks all over. Really? It looks like the Boy was playing with the bleach bottle.

I went to see you because I wanted to feel a little bit better about myself, instead I'm left with a tragic mess on my head.

So, to summarize, eff you hairdresser!