January. You b*tch.

What I needed to see on the front of the paper today was a photo of a really fat ugly woman who was really fat and gross and fat. The word is FAT.

What I didn’t need to see on the 3rd of January is a photo of Jessica Alba, on holiday, in a bikini, FOUR months after giving birth and with an amazingly flat and toned stomach. It does not inspire me to loose the weight. It inspires me to waddle to the biscuit tin and to not carry on with the healthy eating plan I had adopted since this morning. 8 hours in and seeing that picture of Jessica has really crapped on my high. And the physical withdrawals from smarties hasn’t even kicked in yet. I still have the sugar rush pumping through my body and giving me an artificial good mood. Although I can feel it starting to slow down and flag as it isn’t joined by any new sugar bunnies, as I am starting to snap at the kids a bit more…

…A lot more.

I was guzzling, literally guzzling from the smarties tube like it was a bottle of water (*cough* wine) last night. Must eat them. Only 12 hours left. Must eat as much as I can. You know that scene in 28 Weeks Later when that little boy is taken into the house and given pasta to eat and he is scooping it up like a wild animal and shoveling it in? That was me last night with pasta bake. I NEVER suggest pasta bake because it is just a bigger size of knickers on a plate but there I was, all over Christmas, suggesting foods that have as many carbs in them as possible. Pasta bake. Roast potatoes. Pigs in blankets. Oh no wait, pig in a blanket. That was me on the sofa under my mums patchwork quilt, with a bag of twiglets in my hand.

My husband asked me on Christmas day “Han, those new Christmas pajamas are really nice, but are you SURE you don’t want a bigger size?” How bloody brave. Or how bloody stupid. At my inlaws people kept suggesting “why don’t you just put your slacks on Han” as I kept wiggling my way around the house, legs too tightly bound in unforgiving denim to move properly. Like two bulging sausages, tied at each end, one end with socks and one end with a belt. At one point, I got off the sofa and thought I was going to pass out as I got this ripping pain in my stomach. Everyone was very concerned and I lied and said “I think I pulled a muscle out walking the other day”. What really happened was my jeans belt had been digging into my stomach and as I got up and it was suddenly released it went in to shock.

The kids are loving January. Because I have become a “feeder”. They are eating so many shortbread biscuits all they need is a sprinkle of icing sugar over the top and jelly tots for eyes and they could be little shortbread men. They are my little human bins who are bouncing with delight at my misery. If I so much as start to turn my smile upside down they attack and take advantage, whinging and fighting each other because they have quickly learnt, in just 8 hours that I will shout “DONT BE MEAN TO YOUR BROTHER! UGH! OK! JUST HAVE A BISCUIT!”. I may end up as a feature on a channel four documentary as mother of fat obese children who refuse to eat anything unless it comes out of a shiny purple wrapper…but I will be a skinny mother on that documentary. Result.

There are rumours that some celebs (not mentioning any names…) pretend to be pregnant and use a surrogate so they don’t lose their figures and ergo their movie deals or reality shows. Weird? Or genius? I expect the scientologists are the ones that do it the most. If they want a baby I expect they email Tom Cruise who comes round with a pillow and contract. I mean, come on, don’t you think Suri Cruise looks just a little bit Chinese?

But I am going to end on a positive. There is an upside of seeing family and friends when you are at your tubbiest. Because when you see them next time, you will be a little less tubby and will get loads of compliments. A bit like Cinderella, old tatty robes discarded and all polished and lovely in her new frock. Or Sandy from Grease when she emerges stitched into her tight leather outfit. Callender note for February 1st; order skin tight leather outfit. Note for February 2nd. Return skin tight leather outfit.

Tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Like my blog? Leave a reply...