I sat down the other day to find my stomach demanding a chair of its own. Now, whatever the wall to wall situation of the hips, my stomach, even post C-sec, has been a well behaved stomach and allows me, in standing position to get a view of my toes. If I cheated and peered over the lungs, of course. The silhouette too, is presentable, never mind if the butt is the perfect kind that a Victorian woman would throw her hoops away for, them hoops being rendered redundant in face of such spillage and rapid fire expansion that would delight a cannibalisitic society hunting for dinner.
Therefore, when the stomach protested violently at being denied a chair of its own I looked down in shock. And stood up. Threw shoulders back. And pulled stomach in. There, I looked at self in the non reflective glass that makes up the cabin of the tiny office one works out of. Yup. There is definitely a *gasp gasp* paunch. Nope. I am not PMSing. This is not water retention bloat, though I can explain it away shamefacedly in said fashion. This is a true blue, wobbly jiggly dyed in the cellulite paunch.
I ran shrieking to another mirror and checked out self with squinted eyes. Yup. Paunch. The horror. The horror. I must lie down and do them crunches. And leg lifts. And get back to walking as much as them legs permit. Or I can pretend I’m morbidly pre menstrual. Yup. Water retention is a terrible terrible thing. And I have the mood swings as mandated to validate that excuse.
Quick tips to rid self of paunch solicited. Nothing that involves exercising will be considered.