Kids + Calories = Conspiracy

Today I'm linking up with Foursons' "Letters of Intent"! But I don't know how to make the button clicky on here so you'll have to click the link instead. Just as easy, right? :) 

Dear Boys,

Why are you making it so difficult for Mommy to be skinny again?

I know what it is. You want to keep me soft and fluffy so you'll have a nice cushiony spot to lay, right? I mean, I can't think of any other valid reason why you've encouraged the piling-on of pounds since day one. "Oh, Mommy," you communicated to me as fetuses, in the form of cravings, "We need calcium to grow. Will you please send down a pint and a half of Ben & Jerry's S'mores ice cream?" Of course, being the good mother that I am, I indulged your needs for calcium. And everything else. And the numbers on the scale rose faster than a bottle rocket crept up.

I might've lost the baby weight easily after that, but no. Because then you got older and started eating "people food" like delicious grilled cheese sandwiches and stuff. But you eat like birds, and there are a lot of picked-at leftovers when you're done. And we can't have that, now, can we? There are starving children in this world. Plus it's a pain to dispose of all the cheese-stripped pizza crusts and hamburgers minus the burger part. So I often wind up cleaning up your plates as I'm cleaning up after meals. It's amazing how many calories a few kibbles of soggy cereal at a time can add up to.

And you know that thing I (try to) do every day where I jump around and sometimes lay on the floor? That's called exercise. But, darlings, it doesn't do me any good if I can't do it properly. Allow me to demonstrate with a couple of illustrations. This is what Mommy is supposed to look like when doing abdominal crunches:

But thanks to you and your evil canine cohort, this is what Mommy really looks like when doing abdominal crunches:

See the difference, boys (and dog)?

I understand why you want me to be pudgy. I mean, right now it's a comfort thing, and later on it's probably because you don't want your teenage friends thinking I'm hot (I know. My friends all thought my mom was hot when I was a teenager. Gross). But whatever the reason, your conspiring against me has to stop. I promise to be just as comfy - and later on, just as non-hot - when I'm back in my size nines. K?

Love,

Mommy