The One About the F**K It Bucket

Some of you might have seen the picture I posted Instagram over the weekend. 

The one that made me nervous-sweat. 

Yep, that's me in a bikini. 

There ya have it... Mom Body in all it's glory. 

Why did I post this?

Definitely not to fish for compliments.. honestly. That's not what I was after. 

Nope... I got fed up, so I decided to do something a little bold. 

There I was, dreading the upcoming summer because I have a baby who's almost two years old, and I still have 15lbs of "baby weight" left over from carrying him. I am actually going on two vacations (yes!!!!! actually vacations!) this summer that will require me to wear a bathing suit IN FRONT OF PEOPLE.

The last several months I've tried dieting. a month of no alcohol, a month of being a vegetarian. I cut out extra sugar. I cut down on carbs. I went through meal after meal of nothing but protein and veggies, or sometimes... just veggies... 

...and I didn't lose a gosh-darn-ever-loving-pound. Not a one. 

I have spent the last 22 months, ever since Owen was born, being sad about my body. Crying over it, sometimes. Raging on about it to my bewildered husband. Complaining to my friends. Moping around. Staring at myself in the mirror, practicing sucking in my tummy, standing different ways in order to look thinner. Deleting pictures of me because "I looked fat." 

I was obsessing and it was taking over my life and my sanity. Every time I stood up my hand flew to my stomach, touching it to make sure I was sucking it in as I walked around. I pinched and pinched and pinched again the chub around my tummy throughout the day. Gauging it, measuring it, fantasizing about just f**king cutting it off or something. 

I was unhappy, and have been unhappy for almost two years, convinced it was the fault of those stupid 15lbs. 

As cliche as it sounds, something just snapped in me a few days ago. 

I stumbled across Ashli's blog Baby on the Brehm, read up on her journey of surviving cancer and I sobbed. Her story really touched me and inspired me to seize life and be thankful.

Her battle struck close to home because Neal lost his Mom to cancer when he was 13. Even though I've obviously never met his Mom, her picture is up in our house and I think about my angel Mother-in-Law EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. 

Neal's Mom was 36 when she lost her battle guys, THIRTY. SIX. 

I'm 35. I doesn't take a math genius to see those two ages are very close together.

Suddenly... I GOT PISSED. 

Pissed at myself. Pissed at my own pettiness, at my own pity party of "oh woe is me and my jiggly tummy. My big thighs. Wah wah wah. Poor me. Life is so terrible because I'm not SKINNY."

NO. JUST F**KING NO. 

I'ms sorry but what right do I have to be upset? My body made two beautiful babies. My body can run and jump and turn cartwheels still. My body can pick up my boys, spin them around, chase them and comfort them. My body is healthy and I have completely taken that for granted. 

What a stupid, overindulgent SELFISH person I have been. There are real problems in the world, people who are fighting real battles, and here I was... feeling defeated and depressed because I'm not "skinny" anymore.

Instead of living life, loving life.. I'm been moping around because I had to buy shorts in a bigger size this year. 

Excuse you Jessica, but what the f**k is wrong with you???? 

It has to stop. I have to stop. I refuse to spend another second focused on what my body isn't instead of what it is. Life is too short. Our babies grow up in a split-second. Who knows if we will even see tomorrow? We don't know, so we HAVE to enjoy every day we are given.

The body shaming I was doing to myself had to stop. I wish I could tell society to just stop as well, but unfortunately I don't have that power. We'll still be inundated with articles about how quickly some celebrity lost her baby weight, or how awesome they look in a tiny bikini just seven weeks post-pregnancy. The sick obsession with how thin women are will probably never stop.

That's fine.... because I'M GOING TO STOP. I'm going to be thankful to see each new day. Thankful for the big strong legs I got from my German ancestors that let me run after my boys. Thankful for the round tummy that grew and protected two little lives. Thankful for the flatter boobs that fed them.

So I posted that picture to just get over myself. To put myself out there and say "this is me! Yep. I'm bigger than I was. I jiggle more than I used to.. but I DON'T CARE ANYMORE." 

There are more important things in life and I plan on focusing on those, instead of what size the label in my shorts say.

Try it guys... take those insecurities, chuck 'em in the F**k It Bucket and move on and live your life! 

It feels AWESOME.