Twas the week after Christmas and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.

The cookies I’d nibbled, the eggnog I’d taste.
All the holiday parties had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store (less a walk than a lumber).

I’d remember the marvelous meals I’d prepared;
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,

The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I’d never said, “No thank you, please.”

As I dressed myself in my husband’s old shirt
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt—

I said to myself, as I only can
“You can’t spend a winter disguised as a man!”

So–away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
Till all the additional ounces have vanished.

I won’t have a cookie–not even a lick.
I’ll want only to chew on a long celery stick.

I won’t have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie,
I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

I’m hungry, I’m lonesome, and life is a bore—
But isn’t that what January is for?

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all and to all a good diet!

by: unknown

© 2009, Michelle. All rights reserved.

©2012 Simply Blessed. All Rights Reserved.

~ wished cats could speak so they could tell you they don’t like the lid on the litter box instead of just pooping and peeing in random places so you get the point? I have…

~ stayed in your pajamas for several days in a row? I have…

~ been so addicted to Farmville on Facebook that you plan your crops around when you will be home to harvest them on time? I have…

~ looked down and wondered what the heck that was between your boobs only to realize it’s your belly button since after all those pregnancies they now sag to your vag? I have…

~ picked a huge booger out of your kids nose after their bath? I have…

~ used your baby’s diaper rash cream to relieve the pain on your butt because you had diarrhea so bad? I have…

~ tasted breast milk? I have…

~ been at the mall and had your 13 year old daughter tell you that you desperately need to pluck your unibrow? I have…

~ had your preschooler tell you “calm down! I’m working on it!” when you asked them to clean up their cars? I have…

~ gone to get your almost two year old out of her bed only to find she’s taken her pullup off and peed in her bed? I have…

~ had your 3 year old boy walk into the bathroom while you are changing your tampon and hear him scream “Oh Mommy! You have a boo boo on your butt!” I have…

~ thought if it rained ONE MORE DAY and you couldn’t get out with the kids you were going to lose your mind? I have…

~ seen the kids with their head in the fireplace yelling “Santa! Come out Santa! Where are you?!” I have…

~ been sad because your little girl was crying “want Daddy back” after he left for work? I have…

~ forgotten to shave one of your legs while in the shower? I have…

~ thought that the McDonald’s play place smells like a gym locker room? I have…

~ had hairs come up in places hairs shouldn’t be? I have…

~ found a gray hair, leaned in to look closer and found that you have LOTS? I have…

~ gone from a size D cup to a size A cup because your milk dried up? I have…

So what about you? Have YOU ever?

© 2009, Michelle. All rights reserved.

©2012 Simply Blessed. All Rights Reserved.

Since I’ve given birth to five children in the past (almost) 18 years I have dealt with an endless string of sleepless nights, pediatrician visits, school open houses, sleepovers, etc. Now I have finally come to the realization that I have some apologies to make.

I need to start by apologizing to my body. I always knew I didn’t have baby birthing hips, but I never figured my first baby would weigh nearly nine pounds making a vaginal birth a “no go”. I also never imagined my second baby would be breach requiring yet another c-section (yes that would be Dakota… he’s been my challenging child since birth even!) which then led to three more c-sections since I was at risk for uterine rupture. I’m sorry, my Dearest Tummy, that I had to put you through all that stretching and being cut open. I know you are paying me back by all the flabby leftover skin and un-firm tummy muscles. Hopefully one day I can get you the help you deserve from a plastic surgeon. And while we are speaking about plastic surgeons, I must apologize to my boobs as well. I’m sorry, my Dearest Boobs, that you had to be filled and re-filled with milk over the years. And lets not even mention all the pumping, weight gain and loss I put you through. You once were so perky and cute and now you look like two tube socks I must roll up and place into my bra. I promise I will get you the help you very much deserve as well. I just have to save up a bit. Ugh, and my poor vagina. I’m truly sorry, I didn’t know that many Doctors and Nurses would have their hands in you… even though you were spared the actual birthing process, you’ve had to endure the weight of five babies and all that pressure. I hereby promise to get you back in shape with tons of kegels.

I’d like to also say I’m sorry to my husband, for all the bad names I called you when I didn’t feel good and was a beached whale while I puked over the toilet and had to take those weekly (and very painful) progesterone shots in the ass. I’m sorry for all the resentment I felt towards you that I was having to endure all that and all you did was show up, wear scrubs and have a baby. We will have a somewhat normal sex life again, but it may be when we are too old to enjoy it. Hopefully Viagra will still be around in say… 16 more years! Oh and I am sorry that I don’t wear thongs anymore like I did when we were dating. The grandma panties are just too darn comfy to give up! And lets just bring up my boobs. They have been the focus of Makenzie’s feedings for the past 19 months and are really tired and just need a rest. While I appreciate your attempts to touch and fondle them, I just simply cannot imagine you actually getting turned on by a pair of tube socks anyway, so just let it go.

I’d also like to apologize to my older kids, who at this point have seen more tits than Hugh Hefner thanks to my breastfeeding Makenzie this long. I’m guessing Dakota will never be a “boob” man and my girls will probably never have babies by seeing first hand what it does to your breasts. I’m sorry! And I’m also sorry that me having Devin and Makenzie was proof that David and I had sex. You all will probably go through years of therapy just for that reason alone.

And while I’m saying sorry, I should also apologize to all those parents of teenagers whom I used to judge when I didn’t have any. All those times I thought you *must* be white trash because my kid would *never* act like that… well, I’m sorry. I seriously had absolutely no idea that raising teens is so freaking hard.

Also, to all those Moms I’d see on the playground with their hair up in a ponytail and what looked to be their bed clothes on… I’m sorry I judged you to be slobs. I now understand with all these kids, who has time to look good? Let alone coif their hair, have their nails done, and then find a cute outfit (that they actually fit into with all that saggy belly skin). I’m sorry. I’m now a ponytail wearing, frumpy ” Mom slob” myself.

To all those good friends who try to call me and think I’m screening your call. I’m sorry! I don’t mean to, but it’s just so loud in my house that I simply cannot hear and won’t be able to give our conversation the concentration it deserves, so most of the time I just don’t answer. I figure you’d rather leave me a voice mail than hear me yelling “stop that!”, “don’t bite!”, “get down!” etc. in your ear!

Lastly, I’d like to apologize to who I used to be before I had all these kids. I’m sorry I didn’t complain less about how I looked and enjoyed more of that free time I had. I should have lived it up while I could and worn spandex every day. I was a fool for wanting to hurry up and grow up. Oh the days of having money to only spend on me…

Ah well. I wouldn’t change being a Mommy for anything in this world. That is the one thing I’m NOT sorry for!

© 2009, Michelle. All rights reserved.

©2012 Simply Blessed. All Rights Reserved.