What is your excuse?

My excuse includes 3 adolescent step-children, a three year old, a large couch-chewing dog, with expensive phantom allergies and separation anxiety, a teaching job at an independent high school, a house that never seems tidy, a life style that sees us on the highway most Friday and Sunday nights, the lack of commitment that has sustained Kath in her weightloss over the last year and a husband who loves junk food and take-out. My need for excuses began the year after I had my daughter. Most women lose weight breast-feeding but I was one of the few who actually gained, and gained and gained. Maybe it was because it was one of the most difficult and painful experiences I have ever had and for 8 months, until she thankfully weaned herself, all I did was stress about having to feed her again. Two years later, aside from the odd ten pounds that comes and goes, I have held on to almost all that weight. 

I live in a body that is foreign to me and I am still surprised every morning to wake up and find myself much larger than I remembered being in my sleep. My concern about this preoccupies too much space in my brain. Daily, I start and stop a variety of diets, cleanses and weight loss programmes. Sometimes I make it to dinner before my plan implodes but usually its the 2-4 snack attack that does me in. I do not recognize my hands or my feet and I dread having to sit in front of the big, overlit mirror at the hair salon, so my locks are now the longest they have ever been in my life…which is not necessarily a good thing.

Mr. Husband is fantastic and never says a word. He knows I am concerned about my appearance and never provides any undo negative comments. Besides, there are so many other people out there willing to do it for him. My mother for one, who regularly wonders what happened to me. The 4 year old boy floating with his little shark in the pool at our hotel in Vegas who wanted to know if I got this fat from eating candy, or was I just born this way. The look in the eyes of old friends I haven’t seen in a long time. Some of my girlfriends have tried to help in positive ways, did I know about this plan? Have I tried that?  But then they want me to buy t-shirts that match all of them off of the regular size rack, so I’m not sure they really understand.

That’s why I think it may be time for an excuse billboard. Something to wear when I am out and about like those sandwich boards, instead of Mr. Husband’s over-sized sweatshirts. A list of all of my excuses and some bullet points regarding what I am doing about it. Maybe then my neighbour down the street won’t think it appropriate to make a joke about me and my apparent lack of fitness to one of his friends while I am standing between them. Maybe in my list of responsibilities and excuses for not looking after myself enough in the grand equation of family, he will recognize the role of an adult and be reminded that hopefully we have outgrown the phase where we insult each other in order to look cool in front of our friends. Maybe in reading all my excuses for being overweight, he will find an excuse for being an ass. Maybe this hurtful comment from a man who should know better is all the catalyst I need to bring about a healthier approach to eating. Or maybe I will inhale a bag of M&Ms, feel better temporarily and worry about it tomorrow.