As I mindlessly fed myself sea salt and vinegar potato chips yesterday, soaked from a 15-year old vs. 44-year old swimming race to the dock, I read this article about women’s obsession with losing their baby fat.
Despite the fact that I exercise and make a noble effort to eat right most of the time, I’d likely fall into the category of “unfortunate women who leave the house looking schlumpy and not ready for her closeup” if I were a celebrity.
In many circles, the race to become rail thin after childbirth is more than an obsession; it’s a way of life. Sure, I could have abstained from wine and cheese and fresh scallops in a chardonnay cream reduction sauce over the weekend. But would that have made me any happier?
If I can still fit into my clothes and can run a 5K and (almost) beat a kid in a race to the dock, I think I’m doing OK.
And so are you. Don’t let Us Weekly tell you any different.