The Last 5 Pounds

I don’t know if it’s because I’m older or because I’ve popped out two kids, but I can’t seem to shed the infamous last five pounds. I used to be able to ask the magic skinny genie, and poof, my wish was granted. 5 pounds were gone within 24 hours. Not any more. That genie has left me in the dust, and has been replaced by the evil mirror mirror on the wall. (You already know my feelings about mirrors.)

I sweat my butt off 5 days a week exercising. I’m convinced that there is nothing Billy Blanks, Denise Austin, Jane Fonda, or Richard Simmons can do to make this last 5 pounds go away. I can sweat to the oldies until I am an oldie, and it ain’t budging.

I don’t know why it’s so easy to put on weight, but so impossible to get it off. I mean, I was PREGNANT! I wanted ice cream! Is that so bad? The universe should be forgiving in those situations. Long gone are the days when I could eat whatever I wanted. Now I simply walk by a plate of cookies or a box of donuts they leap right off the counter and onto my butt. Let me tell you, I do not like this arrangement one little bit! I say hook me up to some sort of fat-sucking machine and put me out of my misery.