Maximum Density

There comes a time in every woman's life when she has to look in the mirror and finally decide to either accept herself for who and what she is or vow once and forevermore to make that change for the better.

I understand all those nice little sayings we exchange with one another to appease our sense of self when it comes to appearance:

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Beauty comes from within.

Beauty is only skin deep.

Yes, well, we have all heard or said those platitudes time and again.

I am no longer amused.

Neither am I the least pleased with myself or my appearance at the moment.

According to the scales this morning I am "officially" eleven pounds heavier today than I was a year ago.

That sucks.

Seriously, that really sucks.

While not quite ready to rummage through the attic in a recycling effort to pull out those garments stored behind the stroller, baby bed, and multiple containers of baby things in search of those boxes labeled "maternity clothes", as I peruse the dwindling choices of appropriate attire that actually fits, the thought has become a recurring one.

Oh, and I'm NOT pregnant, just becoming not so pleasantly plump.

Some days I actually wish I were a man.

But then again, nah, not really.

I've heard some men actually prefer women with a little meat on their bones...