Musings from Fatty McButterpants: To 16, and Beyond.

My downward spiralling pity party reemerged last weekend when I purchased a "fuji apple pink" 3/4-sleeve turtleneck from Old Navy. It looks lovely on me, and it feels so comfy because I have room to move. So what's the problem?

It's an XXL. This is the first Women's XXL item I have ever bought in my entire life. I just keep growing and growing and growing. Not upward, but outward. And I haven't given birth to any kids yet. What's going to happen 10 years from now when I become a baby incubator? You're supposed to gain at least 20 pounds when you have a child. How am I supposed to get rid of that?

Today I had this Fat Actress moment when I was getting ready for work. My regular pants were feeling slightly snugger than I was comfortable with. So I figured I change into one of my pairs of fat pants. But then my fat pants were too tight too. :( I had to change my entire ensemble, and then I spent the rest of the day futzing with my sweater that kept cropping up over my belly. Boo hoo. It wasn't quite as bad as the above picture, but that's how I felt inside.

It's not like I eat like Kirstie did in her show, wolfing down entire bags of chips and trays of cookies in one sitting. My stomach can only hold so much food, even if I really like that food. But no matter how little goes inside my tummy, the outside of my tummy continues to expand. I exercise four times a week. I don't mean occasionally walking a lap around my block. I mean serious cardio. Tae Bo, Power Yoga, Step, and Total Body Conditioning. It's like something you'd see on Work Out.

I look at my friends eating normal or larger sized portions, and I wonder how their bodies can deal with that food when mine can't. Half of them don't even exercise! Then I feel even worse when I see a commercial for one of those ubiquitous "Obesity in America" news specials, with the camera taking headless shots of people's flabby bottoms and overflowing midsections. Not muffin tops. Not beer bellies. Cascading rolls of fat spilling out of their shirts and pants. And I think to myself, am I part of this problem? Am I not pushing myself hard enough at the gym? Am I still taking in too many calories? I know I could eat additional fruits and vegetables. But I can't drink any more water. My 2.5+ liters a day would drown any other human being.

I just need to accept my size and body type. I will always have a chunky torso, whether it's toned or mushy. But I hate having to buy bigger clothes every year. It's not like the government is giving me annual gift cards to the Gap. I should write my Senator. Maybe Madame Boxer can attach a special rider to the next spending bill.