Dear Diary,

How many times do I have to listen to my husband tell me how tired he is after a crazy night of watching poker and playing “call of duty” on the wii? I’m up folding laundry, signing homework and returning e-mails all night and in the morning I get to listen to him complain about how tired HE is.  Does he not understand that running through a fake field of soldiers with a machine gun or oozie is not “real” exercise? That he can go to bed at a reasonable hour without the fear of being branded a “deserter” because he left a man-down on the battlefield.

I’m sure his fake cartoon soldier friends will understand.  Although….I’m just waiting for him to tell me he’s taking a day off because he might be suffering from wii “post traumatic stress disorder”. Then I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to punch him in the face.

Summer is coming…trying to eat rice cakes to stop me from eating all the m & m’s I’ve ever wanted. Is it wrong to eat an entire bag of rice cakes? Did you know that when you tip the bag over to dump all the small pieces into your mouth that ranch-flavored rice dust falls in your eyes and really hurts?
So if you see me in public and I’ve got rice cake remnants in my eye-lashes…just keep on walking. I don’t need any comments from you….I’m starving, I can’t see and I haven’t pooped in a week from all the rice.

So…it’s happened. I’ve fought it for so long but…let’s be honest on the path to “old lady-dom” this is just one of the speed bumps along the way. I just didn’t think it would happen this soon.

On Memorial Day we were invited to a swim party. I have bathing suits but none of them fit. Frankly, they didn’t even fit when I first bought them but I thought “I’ll lose weight” and alas….not so much. To make matters worse when you put on bathing suits that are too small, you actually look fatter because your fat just can’t take it and just reaches for any sign of sun it can find and just folds over your panties to catch it’s breath. So I did it….For the first time, I bought a bathing suit that ACTUALLY fits me and doesn’t make me look like sausage. Unfortunately, it has a mommy-skirt attached to it.

Yep…Mommy-skirt. You know the kind that old ladies wear on the beach to hide their butts but leave all to see the varicose veins sticking out. (I don’t have those yet but I’ve got the white out ready to go for when they show up.) It’s a black one-piece with a skirt….I look like one of those ladies that does synchronized swimming. I just need to get that rubber swimming cap and it’s 1960 all over again.

I have anger but it’s okay. I just started screaming “mommy’s got her mom-skirt on, so let’s go to the party” at the top of my lungs. Luckily for me, last week my husband bought me a used mini-van so I got to ride in my mommy-bathing skirt in my mommy-van. Because nothing says “SEXY” like mom skirts and mini-vans.

I guess it’s okay though. I mean my husband has Dad-belly and Dad-head (you know, four hairs left on the top of his head that he tries to tease into looking like eleven). I don’t want him to feel bad having a hot wife with a bikini and a corvette. People would think we were one of those lop-sided couples…. and that he must have money.

I shouldn’t complain though. One day I’ll look back at this body and wonder what I was complaining about. I’ll be 50 and saying “gosh I wish I was 29 again!”. And back off…I know I’m not twenty-nine, but it’s been a tough week. Let a girl live a little.