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Congratulations are in order.  Because I have accomplished the impossible.  I now weigh what I weighed when I returned home from the hospital after giving birth to twins ten years ago.

Yes, it’s true.  What it took nine months and two actual human being growing inside of my body to accomplish, I’ve managed to do all my own!!!

Yay me.

In case you, too, would like to achieve this milestone, here’s how I did it:

1. The Internet -I spend five to six hours a day sitting on my butt staring at the computer screen writing for this blog, or for TravelingMom.com.  Or podcasting or posting for Blogging Angels. Or working on the business plan for my soon-to-be-announced new venture.

Which all means that my butt is completely mushy, but my fingers are in remarkably good shape – -what with all the typing.

2. Orlando – Now I’m not complaining, but I just went on a three night all expense paid trip to the super luxurious Waldorf Astoria in Orlando. (yes, you read that right, Orlando, Florida has a Waldorf.  And yes, it really is super luxurious, not tacky luxurious.)  The trip was basically eating punctuated by events that involved little to no physical exertion: massages, shopping, lounging by the pool. (you can read all about it here.)

So – and I repeat – I AM NOT COMPLAINING – But (you knew there was going to be a butt but.) all of that eating, and OK, drinking, my two trips to the empty and well-equipped Waldorf Astoria gym notwithstanding, did not do a lot for my bottom line.  Well, it did a lot.  Just the wrong a lot.  If you know what I mean.

3. Trader Joe’s.  Trader Joe”s:  I love you.  I love your prices.  I love your vibe.  I love your funny little signs.  Sadly, I also love all of your nut-filled (i.e. fat filled) trail mixes.  Damn you, NY Landmark Preservation Society.  Had you acted faster, Trader Joe’s would not be tempting me with it’s delicious snacks!

4. My Kids’ Laptops – Before my kids were required to bring their laptops back and forth from school, I walked them to school, then walked home, then walked back to school to get them, then walked home again.  For a grand total of  5.5 miles.

Now, they have laptops.  And even with the wheely bags, it’s too hard to schlepp across the park. So now the kids take the school bus, I walk the dog for 30 minutes, and then it’s back to the computer – aka sitting on my ass.

5. Me.  I am not above taking responsibility for my own actions.  I eat too much.  I don’t exercise enough.  So sue me. Please. Because a law suit, that might cost me so much money I wouldn’t have anything left for food, and I would LOSE weight.

So what am I gonna do about it?

1. Zumba Fitness® Classes -A few weeks ago, I went to an event for the Zumba Fitness® videogame for Wii, Playstation Moe, Playstation® 3 and Xbox Kinect.  I tried it.  It was hard.  It was fun.  It was really really good exercise.  And since – with the new game – I can do Zumba Fitness® in my living room, I will no longer have the excuse of not being able to get to the gym.  See the new Zumba Fitness® game (and yes, they told me I have to keep on using that little copyright symbol EVERY SINGLE TIME I SAY ZUMBA, I mean Zumba.®) lets you pick the length of your routine, the difficulty level, the music – even the setting.  And you get to dance around like a lunatic without anyone getting to see your jiggly bits.(like Niecy Nash says)

Check it out:

I like this idea.

When the Zumba Fitness® Game finally comes out,On November 18th, I will buy it — yes, with my very own money.  And I will do it.  Not only to lose weight, but because it was fun.  Yes – I have called a form of exercise fun.  Call the papers.  Or the FBI – someone has kidnapped my exercise hating self.

Until Novmeber 18th, until, that is, the Zumba Fitness® Game is available,  it’s the gym for me.  And ballroom twice a week, and yoga.  Because there are no Zumba fitness® classes during the day in NYC, and daytime is my workout time. Just the way it is. Plus, by the time November 18th rolls around, I’ll have – well, less rolls around, and I won’t feel so awkward playing the game.

And how will I have lost the rolls?  By replacing one meal a day with a Healthy Choice Cafe Steamers frozen entree.

Full Disclosure:  I am going to use my Healthy Choice coupons for free frozen diet food that actually tastes…like food!  That actually has an ingredient list with a normal number of perfectly pronounceable ingredients. (I like the mushroom risotto) And that has – wait for it – NO PRESERVATIVES.

And because I am so nice, I’m going to give away a few of those coupons too.  Leave a comment below – telling me what caused you to need to eat Healthy Choice, and I will send two lucky winners two coupons each for a free Healthy Choice entree. (If you just leave a “I want to win” comment, you won’t be entered. )

So – wait – I’m going to eat right, and exercise?

Call the papers!

Contest open to US residents 18 and older. Contest ends Oct 22nd at 11pm eastern.  Two winners will be picked at random by random.org.

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The day before yesterday I left my parents’ country house and drove into the city where the first thing I did, as usual, was weigh myself.  Way to ruin my day.

At least it’s blog fodder, I thought.  I can write about how everyone always talks about how easy it is to lose weight in the summer – but I gain.  I can talk about how everyone says living in the city is unhealthy, but the second I get to the country I stop exercising and get my very own suburban sprawl.

And then I paused – because something about it rang a bell.  I felt like I’d written it before.  You know why?  I had.  Twice, as a matter of fact.

Yes, it’s true.  This is the third year in a row that I’ve been out in the country for the summer and gained weight. And it’s the third year in a row that I’m shocked, I tell you.  Simply shocked! That such a thing could happen.

In a post called “My XL Problem with Suburban Sprawl,” I wrote about how much time I spent that summer sitting on my every-growing ass.  In another post,(and another year) I wrote about how my parents meal-time extravaganzas had taken their toll.

And here I am, year three.  Still surprised that it’s happening all over again.

What’s really shocking is my stunning inability to recognize the reality that driving everywhere whilst sitting on my ass + eating big meals + not owning a decent scale = Love handles and a lovely double chin.

Oh.  And back fat.  Gotta love the back fat.

You know the funny thing?  I went shopping yesterday and bought a pair of pants…in a size eight.  Size eight?  ONE of my ass cheeks is a size eight right now.  Vanity sizing is NOT helping me.  It is just deluding me into believing that I am still  – 7.5 pounds later –  a size eight.

Ha.

Maybe I should put on a bathing suit and look in the mirror.

That should be a reality check.

And if I faint from the reality – don’t wake me up.  Maybe I’ll lose a few pounds if I stay unconscious through a meal or two.

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Yes, it’s true – I’ve been gone a while.

Why?

Oh — I don’t know.  Maybe it’s the VIRULENT stomach flu coursing through my entire family.

Even the dog threw up.  Seriously.

First it was my son.  On vacation. In Florida.  Perfect weather.  Beautiful Gulf of Mexico waters.  We stayed inside for almost the entire time.  He was being sick to his stomach.  I was expanding mine.

I mean, really, what else was there to do stuck in a condo with a sick kid while my husband and other kid went out to the beach and the pool and on a bike ride? Eat!!! (And no, I don’t blame hubby.  Sick kids (at least mine) want their Mommy when they’re sick.)

Then we got home.  Two weeks of family togetherness…finally coming to an end!

That’s when my daughter got the stomach flu.  Then my husband. (the worst patient of all….but let’s not go there, shall we?)

We’re going on three weeks of someone in my family being sick to his or her stomach.

In other words, three weeks of me spending WAY too much time at home near the refrigerator, the pantry, the stash of Halloween Candy that never got eaten.  Seriously.

All that Swine Flu and Pneumonia for nothing!!!  At least after that I was thin. And I kept off half of it until this round of illness.

Now what I want to know is…where’s the colon cleansing stomach bug when I need it?  Where’s the quick route to weight loss that I crave?  Nope, it’s back to counting points and weighing portions.

Ugh.

Happy Spring and summer is just around the corner and I’m gonna have to put on a bathing suit everybody!

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I don’t really have time to post today:
Sick dog (for a change)
Stinky Dog (just bathed him. fun fun fun)
Daughter needs socks brought to her at school on the other side of town. (don’t ask)
Dryer broken
Going back to Yoga (finally…I hope)
No food in house. (though I did get Fresh Direct yesterday…so I don’t really get it) Must go shopping.
Actual (paid) work assignment to complete. (shocking, I know.)
Much incredibly smelly laundry (sick dog is pooping inside again. Fun fun fun.)

You’re all jealous now, right? Because I have such a wonderful life.

And now, as a complete non-sequitor, the Today Show is in the background, and they just announced that marriage makes you fat. Yay! Single women gain 11 lbs over ten years. Married women gain double that. But God bless Piers Morgan…he just announced that he thinks that’s great. He wants his model-thin girlfriend to bulk-up. I think I’m in love.

ANYHOO- here’s the post I would have written if I had had the time. It pretty much sums up how I’m feeling today. And while you read it, imagine me doing lunges. That’s what I did. (Imagined me doing them. I didn’t actually do them. Puh-lease. Did you see that list of things I’ve got to do?)

Click and read. Click and Read.

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traveling-mom-logoI have trekked through the rain forests of Costa Rica.  I have biked 18 miles up-hill to the top of  Mount Constitution in Washington State. I have traveled through Turkey – by myself – with blond hair.  But the ideaof going to Splish Splash Water Park terrifies me.

It’s not the possibility of drowning *though there is that), or the inherent germiness of being in a place where so much, and so many, are so damp. (Though there is that, too.)  I’m afraid of it because it means I’ll have to wear a bathing suit in public for an extended period of time.

To read the rest of this post, click here.

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Long ago, I discovered the secret to buying (passably) flattering bathing suits: the worse you look the more you pay. (Hence, the Karla Coletto bazillion dollar(and worth every penny) bathing suit.)  I then learned the secret to feeling young and attractive: hang out with the septaugenarians.  I’ve bemoaned the new fahion-math: in Hollywood, size six is the new size twelve. I’ve questioned the new age-math (not new-age math, mind you, but new age-math) which tries to tell us that 40 is the new thirty, and 80 is the new sixty.  By that logic, I’m actually getting younger every year.

Still, nothing prepared me for my recent beach-side discovery:  post-forty, bodies age exponentially.

Think about it: what was your body like at 20?  Was it so different at 25?  At 30? Probably not. As a matter of fact,  I was actually in better shape at 32 than I was at 22.  At 32 I was working out, jogging, eating right.  At 22 I was living in Paris, smoking, drinking wine, and thought exercise was something I only had to do in America, and only then when some oversized PE teacher was forcing me.

Now think of your body at 38.  Then at forty.  Then at 42. (If you haven’t reached this milestone, don’t read on: you might not want to know what’s next).  Still the same body?  Not so much, huh?

Last year, I noticed that my knees were wrinkling. Knees!! What the hell can you do about that?  This year, my quads have joined in.  Mind you, I weigh less (thank you Weight Watchers) this year than I did last,  and the muscles are still under there: yoga and Nia, and weight training, and even ballroom dancing sees to that.  But my skin doesn’t care.  My skin is aging.  Fast.

So is the rest of me.  Today, I went to Tip Top Shoes to try to find stylish shoes that don’t bother my back or my bunion. There, I said it.  BUNION.  If that doesn’t say “your body is aging” well, what does? (By the way stylkish shoes adn bunion really don’t go together. I don’t care what Mephisto says.)

Then there’s the fact that I can no longer drink alcohol.  I was never much of a drinker.  Maybe a few glasses of wine once or twice a month.  But now?  ONE glass, and I’m out of commission for three days. Jeez.

It isn’t that I don’t want to get older (well, I don’t, but that’s not the point) The point is, why is it happening so fast?  I pretty much looked the same from the time I was 20 until I was thirty.  There were little changes – maybe my skin wasn’t quite as vibrant – but overall, the changes were just a difference – not a decline.

So all this leads me to one thing:  should I change the name of my blog?  Let’s face it, agelessbodytimelessmom.com is quite a mouthful, quite a thing to type in, and awfully hard to remember, from what I gather. (Does no one get the Deepak Chopra reference?  Anyone? Anyone?)

I have been working on a manuscript for a while now, it’s called: From Hip to Housewife in Two Kids Flat.  So I’m asking here — should I change my website’s name to FromHiptoHousewife.com?  FromHip2Housewife.com?  Or just keep it as is.  Because, let’s face it, despite my best attempts, I’m not exactly ageless here.  

Votes welcome.  Vote, please, and fast.  I’m not getting any younger.

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Swimsuit season is upon us.  And with it the onslaught of diet ads on tv, magazines with pics of celebs caught having actual cellulite, and me, bemoaning my post-partum, post-forty, past passing for anything but middle-aged body.

Though I am, if I am completely, intellectually honest, neither truly fat, or particularly unattractive, I have made a life (and something of a writing career) of comically dissecting my physical flaws.  I’m the self-appointed Queen of Bad Body Image, chronicling on line and in print my twenty year quest to lose the same ten pounds.  I’ve joked about the fact that my belly button seems to be frowning, that the only men who find me attractive are septuagenarians, that I’ve chosen to paint my daughter’s room the same lavender color as my newly acquired varicose veins.

Ha Ha.  Nudge nudge.  Wink Wink. Very funny.  Until this morning, when my daughter refused to eat breakfast because, she told me through her tears, the boys in her class had told her she was fat.

Want to read the rest of this post?  Click here to go to NYC Moms Blog. (and while you’re there, leave a comment, wouldja?)

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