Size of a house

I am fat again. I know because I keep having to adjust my waistband below my belly. I know because I have invested in lots of stretchy leggings to wear with baggy tops. I know because I pretend not to notice any of my “thin” clothes in the wardrobe when I’m deciding what to wear in the morning (and if I don’t try them on, I won’t know they don’t fit). I am fat because I eat half a kilo of roasted nuts mixed with a large box of sultanas every week. I am fat because I have been secretly crunching my way through all the kids’ Easter eggs and chocolate bunnies that I hid in the cupboard when they weren’t looking. I am fat because I keep cooking things like maafe (see recipe from yesterday’s blog). I am fat because I went to yum cha on Saturday and had a peking duck pancake, spring rolls and salt and pepper squid. I am fat because my favourite stay-at-home lunch is a BBQ chicken leg and thigh (with the skin on) smeared with garlic aioli. I hate being fat. I miss my enzyme deficiency. Not the vomitting, the constant, toe-curling nausea and the bloating. I miss the not-absorbing-nutrients bit. Sure, I was on a slippery slope to osteoporosis, but I lost 10kg without even trying. God I looked good. Didn’t even need to wear control undies with skin-tight mini-dresses. Friends and relatives regarded my sveltness with the same awe as the Nobel Prize. Shopping for clothes filled me with giddy delight. Looking at myself in the mirror filled me with giddy delight. I’m not allowed to mention the “F” word around the Sprogs. Husband is worried I’ll give them eating disorders (does introducing them to Weird Al Yankovic’s “I’m fat, I’m fat, I’m really, really fat” count? They keep singing it in the car. Ooops). But the Sprogs don’t read my blog, and I really need to tell someone how fat I feel. Maybe if I tell someone I will stop eating so much crap and won’t need an enzyme deficiency to lose weight (although it’s gonna come back if I keep eating those easter eggs …. hmmm … no, don’t go there).    

TONIGHT’S MENU: Leftover maafe. Not a promising start to the new eating regime.

2 thoughts on “Size of a house

  1. just hope your sprogs dont do what my brothers did when my mother put on weight… used her as a unit of measure – gee, that person is twice the size of mum….

  2. You are NOT fat!!! I love the bit about the kids singing in the car. And I am now fantasizing about Peking Duck pancakses!

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