Tag Archives: diet

The Quirkys: Weighing In

It’s no secret that weight gain is common during the first year of marriage.

So I wasn’t surprised when my clothes started fitting a little more snug, and even my mom jeans were hard to pull on.

Mr. Quirky has been on me about the laundry because it turns out, he only has two pairs of jeans that fit him. (Also because I am a horrible slacker when it comes to laundry in general, but that’s another post.)

But when I learned Gertie has gained six pounds, I declared something had to give.

Seriously.

Gertie!!!

Notoriously Ms. Slim and Trim has put on an entire six pounds since we got hitched. I know this because right before the wedding we took her to the vet and she weight 150 lbs. Saturday, she weighed 156. I made them weigh her again just because I couldn’t believe it.

This is the dog that never puts on weight.

It was time for something drastic.

Weight Watchers.

No, not for her. For me. For the 10 pounds I’ve gained from being newly married and NOT working out due to the broken tail bone. The way I figured, it would be a trickle down method of weight loss for us all. But it has to start somewhere, right?

It’s so hard to be the Queen sometimes.

For example, every Saturday & Sunday morning, I scramble two eggs. I eat approximately 3/4 of the eggs and put the plate down and let Gertie finish it. It’s something we’ve been doing for two years now.

But on Sunday, I only scrambled up one egg. Sure enough, as soon as she heard the sounds of my egg, she came running. But instead of my usual portion sharing, I proceeded to eat it without sharing. Gertie looked horrified. Finally, I gave in and gave her the last little morsel of egg. You see how this is going to work? Default doggy diet.

And Mr. Quirky is also going to diet default style when I begin omitting butter, cream and cheese from our dinners and adding in more veggies to keep things within my point allowance.

While this is all good and well, and sure to get results, I just want to share one thing: Her highness is hungry.

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I think I just bought mom jeans and I might be okay with that

What just happened here?

Let’s retrace my steps: Went to Marshalls to look for cheap jeans that cover my rear when I sit and don’t highlight my mini-gut when worn with tight shirts. Drug seven pairs into dressing room. Tried on five (couldn’t get my thighs into two.) Left store with dark-washed jeans complete with  gut-hiding front panel, plenty of hip room, elongated zipper and ample backside coverage in a size 1 up from normal.

Yup, case confirmed. I bought Mom Jeans. How did it come to this?

Look, there is nothing wrong with Mom Jeans, if you have squeezed at least one spawn out of your hoo haw. But I have squeezed nothing out. Have never eaten for two. Have not experienced the hormonal landslide of pregnancy to enhance my butt, widen my hips or unshape my thighs. I assume these things will happen someday and look forward to a Quirky Jr. and a closet full of Mom Jeans as a result, but these things have not happened thanks to the little pill in the purple case that I swallow with a swig of cabernet each evening.

So I have no excuse for the size 6 Calvin Kleins with a “traditional waist” that sit in the passenger seat of my car like some sort of 30-something -with-no-kids-about-to-get-married-it’s-the-time-of-my-life kryptonite.

To be clear: I’m pretty sure I’m being hard on myself. I’m quite sure that these jeans in no way, shape, or form mean that I’m a candidate for the fat lady gig at the circus. But come ON. “Traditional waist?” Really?

And they fit really well.

Oy.

Not only can I bend over and pick something up without a show of my underwear (probably time for a little shopping spree on those fellas too), I can sit down. And everything is covered.

Also. They cover my belly. Most of the fat parts of it? Inside the jeans. Not over the edges muffin top.

To make matters worse, there is plenty of room for my thighs and they are stretchy.

OhmygodImightbuystretchydarkhighwaistedbuttcoveringmomjeans.

After I stopped rocking back in forth in the dressing room, banging my head into the door, I decided to come out for a second look.

Yup, still mom jeans.

But, what can I say? They fit. They feel good. And they are cheap.

I bought them.

And will be wearing them often.

And going to the gym more often. And eating better.

Because, I’d really rather wear my old jeans, please and thank you. But these will work for the time being.

And if, by chance, at age 32, I can’t get back into my size 27 skinny jeans by IT, then so be it.

Maybe Quirky Jr. will just have to make an appearance in a few years to help me justify the jeans.

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