New Shoe

It's been a while since I've gone window shopping and let me tell you... I become instantly ecstatic when at the mall, similar to a kid on that Hallow's Eve when candy is legal and abundant. Ecstatic!

Quick background would be me having signed up on the stay-at-home Mommy list several months back. Absolutely blessed to have a hubby to support our growing family that allows me to stay at home with my adorably stinky poop machine. I love it! But how does this relate to window shopping ecstasy? I MISS it. Money, or no money. Credit card, or no credit card. I get excited over trying on a new pair of shoes, a nice blouse, a hair pin, for goodness' sake... and immediately get bogged down with guilt. I don't need that exact pair of shoes. It's not like I absolutely have to have it. I'll find another blouse that I'll look great in.

Not. To. Mention.

I've already fought the battle of losing my pregnancy weight and won. My waistline was never the same again though. Neither, for that matter, were my thighs, tummy and hips. No matter. I was a "sexy momma", people said. Still am as some people think. WRONG. Still waging The Battle of the Bulge, being a stay at home mom doesn't help unless you are disciplined. And that, sad to say, I am not.

How do to deal?

How am I supposed to deal with This Battle when all I feel like doing is stuffing my face with an endless supply of snacks? None of which are healthy, by the way.

How am I supposed to deal with This Battle when the sun is quick to walk away, ze bebe wants to sleep and I can't go out and play?

How am I supposed to deal when I can't seem to sleep before 12mn and wake up just plain lazy?

P90? Pffft. Back started hurting after a couple days. Need to walk more.

My batteries are winding down now. Will need to recharge soon. Lazy to even read through this entry even though I know these thoughts are random, all jumbled together and might not make sense to unsuspecting readers.

What was I talking about? Oh. Being a new mommy. Feeling fat. Getting fat. Window shopping ecstasy.

I need to feel good about myself.

A friend and I will start a tradition where we promise to get out of those ratty old sweats, wear a little makeup, maybe fix our hair a bit and dress up to feel good. Oh, and take a snapshot as evidence for one another. Hoping this comes into fruition.

DISCIPLINE.

'Night, non-existent readers.