I’ve been feeling really fat lately, bursting and pushing out my clothes that I have just manage to fit back into. I can no longer walk around with a GUT stating that its baby weight. I lost my baby weight, three weeks after having my baby. I didn’t plan it, but I ate, drank and snacked my way back to ten pounds heavier than I was at my post-natal check up.
I know I shouldn’t, but a bucket of ice cream would do me good right about now, curling up on my sofa, watching Criminal Minds on Netflix… living the life. I would love to snuggle up in some period panties and a t-shirt, with some regular Neapolitan ice cream, with no nuts, no drizzle, just chocolate, strawberry and vanilla. yep… thats the life!
But, a bucket of ice cream would only ruin my day, making me all depressed and shit. Wishing that I could shove my fingers down my throat to vomit. I do like having a little meat on my bones, but this meat is starting to hang in certain places that is not good for neither my figure nor my self esteem.
Its time to do something, time to dust off my crusty old Adidas and my insanity videos… its time to get this body back. time to make it all sleek and sexy. If only this mantra would help me complete a whole workout without passing out, then I would be well on my way. As motivating a the great shaun T is, everytime i make up my mind to exercise… the ice cream calls me, luring me into the kitchen for the tub and an extra large spoon. Just one more, and then i WILL stop, I promised, and like a habitual liar, I have yet to keep that promise.
Hi, my name is Amanda, and I’m addicted to snacking, especially on but not limited to Ice cream, I know that I wanna change and I will.