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Skinny guys rule.

*And just let me say, I don’t mean fat people don’t rule, or regular, average size people don’t rule. It’s just for the sake of my skinnier than normal husband- okay?

In defense of skinny people that wish they weren’t so thin- this post is for you. (Seriously, not many have sympathy for you.)

Also, this is a chance for me to complain needlessly about the skinny people I live with. My husband and two children. I’m a size 6/8 and I’m the fat one. Please don’t take this the wrong way- I don’t want anyone griping at me for my gripes. You try living with Jack Sprat.

This will also be categorized under posts that my husband will roll his eyes at.

My husband is 6’2″ and about 150 pounds or so.  He’s 41 and has weighed the same since 1988. It’s really a freak of nature how he stays so thin. That, or he has a tapeworm.

Try being around a guy that is skinnier than you after you’ve passed week 16 of a pregnancy. I outweighed him most of the last 12 years. It’s a bitch.

I’m sorry James.

I’m always complaining about how I would like to lose 10 pounds. I USED to have a fast metabolism. And it’s not slow as a sloth slow, but it isn’t what it used to be. Pregnancy changed all that. I could put away a Mexican dinner at one setting. I barely exercised and you could see my ribs. I wore a size 2 easily. Now I fight for every pound to NOT gain. I have practically eliminated alcohol intake, have become a ‘sort of vegan’(The Reluctant Vegan). Work out. A few times a week. I definitely can do better. I love carbs. I love bread and corn. Popcorn, corn chips, tortilla chips. Corn is the bane of my muffin top. Bread is too. White bread sometimes with butter, but not since giving up dairy. Avocados are my new vice. With chips of course.  Curse them. My metabolism has predictably slowed. I’m almost 40. It’s bound to happen.

I remember in my 20s feeling upset over zits I had. Not serious acne, just troublesome, gross white heads on my chin. Ugh. It drove me nuts. I would make deals with God to clear up my skin. I would ask him if I could be 10 pounds heavier if I just had clear skin. My skin is clear now. What is the statute of limitations on deals with God?

Then there’s tapeworm boy (I’ll explain this later.): James will have a bowl of ice cream EVERY night. He can eat a bag of chips while he watches a football game. He never eats breakfast and he rarely exercises- hello? Two of Dr. Oz’s rules for losing weight- he breaks! He puts sour cream and cheese on everything. He can eat a box of Kraft mac and cheese. But then on the flip side- he’ll ‘forget’ to eat. Yeah, that’s such bull shit! He’ll work from home, have a latte in the morning, forget to eat, then at about 2 in the afternoon realize he’s famished. See? Total bull shit. Who does that? I am starved by 11 am and need 2nd breakfast like a Hobbit or something.

There was a time about 20 years ago he tried to bulk up. He protein loaded and worked out all the time. I think he put on about 5 pounds of muscle in about 4 months. Waaa, waa, waa. (That’s me fake-crying.)

I hate when his side of the family makes a big deal about his thinness. As if it’s something new. When was he ever chubby? Never!

It seems like Owen is following in James’ skinny footsteps. He’s a bean pole with no meat on him. A Jack Sprat type like his dad. He doesn’t like being asked about why he’s so skinny. James doesn’t really like it either. It’s not fun to poke fun at anyone’s appearance regardless if they’re skinny or fat. (“Real” women have curves- Really …?)

Recently, James is embracing his skinniness. Especially since his peers are starting that tire around the middle.  His brother jokes that he has a tapeworm. This makes total sense. He can only eat this much and NOT gain weight, if he was feeding a creature in his abdomen like Alien. Not to worry, he doesn’t exhibit any other signs of having a parasite. His cholesterol is safe, especially for his age (40s), and he’s otherwise healthy. So when we go out to dinner and he orders his Fettucini Alfredo with a side of garlic bread and a ceasar salad with extra cheese, he pats his tummy and says, “gotta feed the tapeworm”. Oh geez.

Well alright then. Hey, skinny guys rule. (James’ motto)

Plus, in 20 years when he’s 60, I think it will catch up with him. Now we just need to figure out his Mcdreamy head of hair. He’s had the same hair since high school too. Like I said- the guy is a freak of nature. In a nice way though. And I wouldn’t change a thing. Love you babe!

Some cute and skinny famous guys:

Andrew Garfield- cute, skinny, and English (oh and hair like James too!)

David Beckham- I'm not crazy for tats, but again- cute, skinny, English

Team Edward. Twilight haters hush up. Cute, skinny, English. Hmmm, I'm sensing a pattern here.

Adrien Brody. I'm not a huge fan. But of this picture I am. Oh, and not English. Skinny but ripped.

Cute. Skinny. not English or famous- but my favorite for sure. Gorgeous.

‘REAL’ women have curves. Really? So what are us skinny bitches then?

I’m not saying I’m skinny. I’m not saying that women should be curvy. I’m saying that when we say phrases like, “Real women have curves”-  then doesn’t that just make the skinny women wonder what makes them a real woman?

I know a lot of beautiful women of all shapes. Not morbidly obese. Just skinny to curvy. Short and tall.  Just your garden variety of size 0’s to 14’s.

There was a recent blogger’s Facebook wall, Mom’s who Drink and Swear, that posted a Daily UK article on a size 12 model, which featured a picture of what’s considered plus-size, and the typical size 0 model next to her. Hundreds of comments on the Facebook page ensued of different women defending their opinions on what is beautiful. Curvy women defending their curves, and skinny women defending their skinnyness, athletic women, women who work out, maintain a thin appearance- all of them. They all had opinions. Here’s what: Our culture defines skinny as pretty for magazines, and heavy as unattractive. Pretty is also zit free skin, smooth-frizzless hair, whiter teeth, glowing less pasty skin…. the list goes on. And yeah- it’s pretty much true. So why do we get so up in a tizzy over skinny vs. fat?

Why should the curvy size 14 ladies have to defend the fact that if they are 5’10” being over 160 pounds is the norm. Gals that are a natural size 2, ones that have metabolisms like thoroughbreds, shouldn’t be made to feel they are inadequate because people think they aren’t eating. It’s nobody’s damn business!

Here’s a confession. I don’t want to be fat. I’m a size 6 and it irks me that if I were to walk in to a model agency they would call me a Plus size model because I’m not stick thin. I don’t want to be called Plus Size. I’m average. Thin according to the American average. I like feeling thin. I like the way my clothes look, I like the way I feel. So what? Sue me. But I have no business being a model either. I don’t walk in to Boeing and decide I’d like to start designing airplanes.

I have tall friends that know when they aren’t at their physical best. Or, who are very comfortable being tall, curvy and full figured- not fat. Healthy, proper BMI, all the medical stats check. But their physique supports a curvy figure. Plain and simple.

I think what it is for me, I like the look of muscle. I like when I see muscle definition on my legs or arms. It says strength. It says, I’ve been working on something. I’ve been doing something. I can run a 5k, I can climb stairs, I can swing on a trapeze. It’s a reflection of all the things I’m capable of. When I see flabby flesh, squishy thighs and thick arms (on me, mind you), I think of what I should be doing. How I shouldn’t be wasting my time. That if it means so much to me, why not just make it happen?

So in closing. Skinny people- don’t look down on the curvy gals and say they need to shape up. And curvy girls, don’t look at a skinny girl and say- go eat a cheeseburger. Because I know girls who eat cheeseburgers and still are ridiculously small. Instead, say, ‘hey, your eyes are pretty in that color sweater.’ OR, ‘I love the way you smile.’ OR ‘thanks for laughing with me and not at me’.

Saying something is made real over something else, isn’t really fair and continues the ‘I’m better than you’ cycle. It’s like saying, ‘REAL SMART people wear glasses’, OR ‘REAL dancers are black’, OR ‘REAL good food is only French’. See what I mean?

THIS is what we should teach our daughters. Oh, and our sons, because if they are someone’s husband one day, we don’t want them to make their wives feel insecure about their image. That’s a whole different topic…

 

This woman is gorgeous.

Seriously? Why does she need to be considered 'plus'. How about smokin'?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm assuming she's healthy.

 

I'm concerned for this girl though.

Buy my book!

Literally, working my ASS off.

Yep. I’m going to the gym. SHIIIT. I have to admit, it’s the only thing to get my ass in these jeans. Cuz here’s the shiz, peeps. Why am I talking like Snoop Dogg, I have no idea.  I am on a very limited shopping budget. We are saving for a family trip to Europe this summer. I need to save my pennies and not buy new clothes. So in the effort of not looking like Mariah Carey stuffed in a sausage casing- I need to work out.

The fact is- I’ve tried vitamins, low calorie intake, the nap diet- (I made that up, it’s where you nap and burn calories sleeping. It beats eating a whole cake in one setting) and just casually walking the dog. I went up a size. Yep. So while a lot of you are saying, ‘yeah, no shit sherlock, doing nothing gains weight’, I thought if I just did like French women and nibbled a little here and there, I would fit into Chanel off the runway. Insert snort through nose disbelief sound here.

Not to sound like Dr. Oz, your mom, your doctor, or that damned annoying Jillian Michaels- working up a sweat helps you feel better. Period. Oh, and that reminds me, it helps your periods. It’s true. It’s a vicious cycle of feeling like a slug, not working out because you’re feeling like a slug, time of the month comes, you’re feeling like a slug, on and on it goes.

Exercise helps with migraines. I don’t know why, I just have less when I burn a sweat at the gym a few times a week. It lowers your blood pressure, helps your heart, helps your endorphins. And yes, endorphins are those little happy molecules that apparently all you sorry saps out there reading my blog, need more of. Including me.

I also read somewhere more exercise helps with better sex. I will spare comments on this subject. I think if James worked out too- there would be something to write here. Since I’m doing all the work…let’s just say…I’m doing all the work. Ba da bump.

Oh, what else? Cancer. Yes ladies, and gents, exercising reduces your risk of cancer. And if you’re having a glass of wine each night to help your heart, you’re upping your risk of breast and ovarian cancer. I know, that sucks. So work out, and you can off-set that factoid.

AND, it helps build bone mass so we don’t end up looking like our grandmas all hunched over. Posture ladies- it’s true. We suck at it. If we were put in a time machine and transported to the 50s we’d be fat slobs slouching around with our muffin tops hanging over our pajama jeans. You know those women’s health and fashion magazines that say standing up straight makes you look 5 lbs lighter? Well, they’re right! It does. I can’t stand to see a pretty girl hunched over. Suck in your gut, squeeze your bottom and throw back your shoulders. What are you afraid of?? Okay, I’m scaring myself because I sound like Miss Minchin in A Little Princess.

I’m not preaching here, I’m just sharing. I’ve read all the articles, all the magazines and there’s no short cuts. So enjoy, don’t kill yourself, and work out for reasons that are more than skin deep- like your brain, your heart, your uterus, your boobs, your bones. Those are good reasons, right?

Remember this from “Friends”?

Hint- I’m Phoebe.

This will not be my form of working out. Not that James wouldn't mind.

Again, not me. Don't be intimidated. Just Do It.