I thought the phrase baby fat was to describe the baby, not the parent.
I weigh myself every Tuesday night, not because I’m obsessed but because I have a propensity for binge eating that will otherwise get out of control. I’m not a fat man either, at least not on the outside. Although somewhere inside me there’s definitely a roly-poly porker waiting to get his own Channel 5 documentary.
I use the Nintendo Wii Fit to track my progress which is the worst thing to do because it gives you stats. Nobody needs stats. Apparently I’ve been weighing myself for 1,867 days and I still haven’t reached my target weight. On the flip side, at least my self-esteem has plummeted after digesting that data.
But easily the worst thing about the Wii Fit is that your avatar on the screen changes size depending on your weight that week. Satisfying if you’ve lost weight but the increase in on-screen girth and accompanying negative sound effects last night were enough to drive me to shovel ice cream into my face in the kitchen. In my undies. If you’re standing up and crying with the freezer open while you eat it doesn’t count, right?
(Best thing was when my wife, who hadn't weighed herself since before the pregnancy, jumped on the Wii Fit the night before we went to get induced. The on screen avatar nearly exploded.)
I got a warning yesterday when I sat on the toilet and it creaked. That's just not right.
I do like exercise. But I like food more. Cheese, chocolate, pastry. I’m dribbling on the keyboard just thinking of it.
When you first get into a serious relationship with someone and your life feels complete you eat like it’s going out of fashion. You feel secure and superficial looks don’t matter anymore. I think since the boys were born this has got even further out of hand.
It started with our long hospital stay. I’d conveniently pass a MacDonalds every night between Alder Hey and the Women’s Hospital and what started as a treat quickly became an obsession and then addiction. After three nights on the trot under the Golden Arches I swore I wouldn’t go there again and I didn’t. The next night I went to KFC followed by Burger King the night after that.
It’s hard to look after yourself when you’re looking after two babies though. When you’ve spent most of the day scraping dried vomit from your neck or cleaning bottoms that produce more waste than Springfield Nuclear Power Plant, if someone offers you a custard cream you don’t think about the calories. You just grab the whole packet and shove them down your neck like a sword swallower who's showing off.
The Wii Fit told me I'd put on 6 lbs this last week. To put this into perspective, that's what Zac weighed when he was born. I've put on a full Zac this week. I don't want either of the lads to think there's any favouritism going on so I'm going to try to put on a full Ben this coming week.
Wish me luck.