Finally, the sun is out again!
A series of dark gloomy days and March-like temps ( in May) has left my fridge bare and my pants snug. These cold temps make me want to hibernate.
Like a bear. In fact, I’ve come to the conclusion that I am part bear.
“Teddy bear?” you ask. Not so much. Probably more like a grizzly bear.
When the outside temps dip below 40 and the leaves begin to turn, bears begin their tradition of eating everything in sight, getting fat, and then heading to the cave to sleep it off for the next 4-5 months.
For me the uncontrollable urge to give into my inner bear starts about the same the time every year. Beginning around what I call “eating season” or some wiser folks would call “The Holiday Season”
It’s about that time I begin my “farewell to food tour” which usually entails eating everything in sight and eating often. It’s my personal prequel to my annual New Year’s Resolution which is, (shock, shock) for me is to lose weight.
So like a bear, fat and sassy into the winter season I go. But here’s where that darn bear has one-upped me. He can take his chubby ol body and SLEEP through the coldest and most miserable part of the winter. Only to wake up in the Spring, hungry, ornery, and THIN.
I, like our friend the bear, welcome Spring by being hungry and crabby….but crabby because I’m down to two pair of pants that fit. And terrified by the thought of exposing any part of me between my eyeballs and toes to the viewing public.
About March, I allow myself a quick visitation of summer wardrobe that once again I won’t be able to wear. Shorts? Ain’t happenin this year. Capris? Only if I’m feeling brave and am not out of self-tanning lotion. Cap sleeves? Not in this lifetime.
So off to the store I go to stock up on long pants and oversized t-shirts. Maybe I will get lucky this year and there will be a new special summer clothes section for Yogi Bear-shaped-forty-something-Mothers-of-two.
I am kinda feeling the the dress-with-leggings-underneath look. My deepest fear is that someone will walk up to me and ask “SO..when’s your baby due?”
I guess if I try that look, I’ll get a lot of exercise “sucking in my gut.”