All I needed was a good Spanx

So this weekend we attended my cousin, Libby's, wedding in California.
I was a bridesmaid and Bea was the flower girl. Her first introduction into the high-stress, highway-robbery industry of weddings. Bea was a little vision of white tulle, complete with matte satin basket and rose petals. She did great too. She pranced down the aisle, more than happy to perform for her auntie Libby.

I, on the other hand, was thankful all eyes were diverted onto Beatrice for the time being. I was also in the wedding. Technically I was a bridesmaid, but truthfully I was a momsmaid. First things first, let me set the scene: my cousin Libby is a whopping size 2, on a fat day. She has this adorable little pooch of a stomach that she's always claiming she needs to "get rid of." To top it off, she had a ridiculously perky (& big) rack on her teensy, tiny size 1 (2, on a fat day) frame. Please understand though, she is the only beautiful woman I know that I actually do not harbor any resentment towards, simply because she is truly the nicest person I know. There is not one teeny-tiny thing I don't like about her.

That said, she also has teeny-tiny little friends who were her other bridesmaids. I was truly horrified when I discovered her bridesmaids went something like this: sizes 2, 4 & 4........then me a a sheet-draping size 16. Holy shit. Did I really just type that size on a public blog??? Ok, my horrible secret is out. Oh yea, and the one I was to stand next to was a triathelete, complete with washboard abs and toned arms. How wonderful!! Thankfully, she also asked my other cousin, Katie, to be a bridesmaid. Actually, Katie is a momsmaid too. Katie had a baby one month before Bea was born. Now here's the stark, sad truth, now that our kids are 17 & 16 months respectively, "baby-fat" should no longer be our excuse du jour. Now here's the reality: I continue to use it as my excuse for my physique and it IS the excuse for my sexy stretchmarks.

At any rate, given the thought of myself buffaloing down the aisle with my "nursies" bouncing around in my size 16 sheet, I decided to join Weight Watchers with my friend Kelly. Here's the good news, I initially dropped 17 pounds, only to put 6 back on over the holidays, for a net loss of 11 pounds a week before her wedding. What was I thinking?? I had since July to obsessively count points and drop pounds, but instead I indulged in bacon & jalapeno pizza & imbibed in Bud Light with the hubby as if I had the metabolism to do so. Silly me. So a week before her wedding I decided I better try on that dress. Hmmmm....it doesn't fit so well. Truth be told my freakin tits were spilling out and would not stay in the designated cup portion of the dress. This is a problem. I freak out call my aunt Laura screaming at her to drop everything and get to my house STAT to help me figure out a bra situation.

In between the time I call Laura and she arrives, I frantically call Katie and ask what she is going to do about her boobs & the dress. I have prior top secret knowledge that we ended up getting the same size dress: 14. Yeah, that's right a whole 12 sizes bigger than the maid of honor and 10 sizes bigger than the other two waifs. She doesn't really have any suggestions and then we both realize that it would be in our best interest to talk the bride into having the bridesmaids use pashminas/scarves/shawls, because, afterall it is January and our dresses are sleeveless. (More importantly, they would hide cellulite-riddled upper arms and big boobies. We convince the bride and Laura and I are off to find a serious push up bra, a punishing girdle and something to camouflage my arms. Amazingly enough we found all three, including wraps for all 5 bridesmaids.

Now onto improving my physique. Please note at this point that two of the bridesmaids seriously look as if they have had boob implants and ass-lifts. So we must work with that challenge within a 7-day time frame. Sounding impossible? Don't lose hope yet, because I was blessed with the stomach flu. Not once, but twice, in that time frame. That combined with the fact that I couldn't stomach anything but cheerios and bananas, I was in business, to the tune of 11 lbs. I don't give two shits if its water weight, it's weight. Besides I know all about water weight. At the height of my pregnancy in a sweltering August, I was gaining steady water weight due to the heat, and trust me, it is still weight, because it goddamn registers on the scale.

In addition to the flu I found Spanx. They are pantyhose/girdles that do not bind and do not re-distribute fat out the top or bottom of the girdle. Oh man do they slim and tone. My Spanx went from above my knees allll the way up to just underneath my bra. That alone took off another 5 pounds from my frame. No to mention the bra that jacked my boobs up to underneath my chin. Oh yeah, I also got a spray on tan to camouflage any additional cellulite that might peek out from underneath the wrap that went around my arms. Whew! Oh the hilarity of Katie and I hiding in the bathroom of the bridal suite trying to cram each other's boobs into minimizing, push-up, stick on bras and running around in girdles. We couldn't exactly get dressed in front of the triathelete and the waifs since girdle and nursies aren't even in their vocabulary. Too humiliating.

Ultimately, I didn't feel like Alberta Beef when I went down the aisle. Furthermore, I think that Katie and I looked pretty in our own way, particularly when we were holding our beautiful babies, Bea & Gabe.

But more importantly, for all of my vanity, the one everyone was looking at was Libby. Libby really, truly was the most beautiful bride I have ever, ever seen. (She told me I was lying when I said that to her before her wedding, but I wasn't, not even close). I suspect it had something to do with the fact that she is a beautiful, caring, loving, amazing person inside - as cliche as it sounds, inner-beauty must radiate, because she certainly was glowing. Every other silly notion of how I looked vanished when she came down the aisle, and I was so incredibly happy for her and Cameron. I love her, love her and wish her the best in her new life.

Although this post seems like its about "me" it really is also about Bea. Someday when she reads these posts, I will be slightly embarrassed for her to see this one. Because I am trying my hardest to raise her with a healthy view of herself, and I know this starts with me respecting myself. It just does. I cannot raise a daughter to respect herself if I am self-deprecating. Typically, I do not say these things in front of Bea. My strongest desire is for Beatrice to grow up a healthy, happy, secure girl who isn't obsessed about too skinny legs, fat thighs, flat boobs, huge boobs, small nose, or big beak. I just want her to be. To be spending time hiking or biking or cross-country skiing or snowshoeing with her dad, mom & puggy. To spend time eating dinner at the table with us enjoying new foods, tastes and textures and not worrying about carbs, fat grams and calories. I just want her to stay the calm, secure, beautiful little girl that she is right now.

When she walked down the aisle in her little white flower girl dress I was so proud of her. Her confidence and her little precocious eyes and smile. It's a good thing she came before the bride, because at that point, she had totally stolen the show, in my humble mommy opinion.

Every day is a Beautiful day, especially since it is Pappy's birthday!!!!! Happy Birthday Dad!! I love you & Skeets loves her Dewey. ;-)