Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Then I went to the mall.

Hopefully you all weren't too worried that I didn't post yesterday. I know someone had to think the kids had me tied up and locked in a dark room, anything to keep me off "Mommy's puter" as Nathan calls it. I didn't get a chance to write because I was too busy enjoying a perfectly relaxing and uneventful day completed by a nice dinner waiting for me and a glass of wine by the fireplace. Wait a minute, I must still be in my dreams... I keep doing that! Nah, yesterday I was just caught up in the hustle and bustle of any given day, except that it actually was rather uneventful and I even got to sneak in a child-free one hour trip to the mall thanks to a surprise visit from Santa... I mean, my brother-in-law, Adam. Not that the trip boosted my morale at all since it involved trying on clothes for a bachelorette party I have next weekend. If I could get that hour back, I probably would have gone for a pedicure or tortured myself with a second hour at the gym. I hate trying on clothes, especially in the dead of winter and after picking up yet another obsession, Stella Artois. That beer has become a staple in our house and thanks to the nifty Stella beer glasses courtesy of Carrabbas, I can now enjoy 1, OK 3, nightly in what appears to be a wine glass. Hello, empty calories. Yes, nothing screams fun like trying on 25 dresses in the attempt to look somewhat cute compared to the 14 other young and (child-less) girls I'll be partying with. The party is for my BFF, Jenn's little sister, I'm just tagging along to chaperone and drive them all around in my mommy van so we look extra hip. Adding to my disdain for trying on clothes is the fact that I now have to make sure everything matches my brand new tattoo. That was one thing (oops) I didn't think of when getting it on my front shoulder. Now I can't wear lime green since it doesn't match it... damn.

While on a moms night out the other night, at Triumph Brewery in Philly, we talked about women and their insecurities about their bodies. I swear, whoever invented the review feature on a digital camera needs a good spanking. I don't know anyone that screams, "OMG! I just LOVE that picture of me!!" unless they're a couple (a few) drinks in and have their beer goggles on. No, instead it's usually "I look fat!" "My face looks fat!" "That's my bad angle! (that's my personal excuse) or "Delete it, delete it!!" In a twisted way, it's nice to know I am not the only mom that feels like pictures of herself are the new Chinese water torture. I know, I know, 'I'm a mom, I nurtured two children, I love my body,' blah blah blah, whatever that Facebook chain mail post said a few days ago. In reality, yes, I am a mother of two, in the past 4 years I have collectedly gained and lost a total of 75 pounds on a frame comparable to a gymnast or a freakin horse jockey. I have stretch marks and stretched skin and no one tells you the wonderful after effects of breastfeeding 2 kids... yeaaaa, let's just say I now have to set up a new savings fund, specifically for Victoria's Secret super whammo bammo push-up bras. Yes, I do love my children obsessively and am proud that I carried them in my big ol belly, but what mom doesn't long for her pre-children body, before the saggy boobs and saggy everything else? I probably sound like a big wambulance right now, but wah, wah, wah.

On the flip side, I had a bag of chips for breakfast and didn't feel one bit guilty about it. At least I got some veggies in for the day already.