Too Much

'Tis the season of excess, isn't it? Ugh. I feel like a big fat bloated pig who's spending herself into the poor house. For the now nearly four months since my event, I have consistently way exceeded my budget. I simply cannot manage to keep my credit card under control. And yet I feel like I buy nothing but gas and groceries. But there's always something - an oil change. A dental cleaning. A hair appointment. And next thing you know I've almost doubled what I promised I'd spend.

It's the same with food. As of this moment I've put on 20 lbs. Which according to the pregnancy weight gain calculator I furtively consult far more often than I care to admit, is completely normal for week 26. Still, if I am to gain 1 lb a week for the remaining 14 weeks of this pregnancy, it puts me at a total gain of 34 lbs. Which, again, is within the proper amount of 25-35 lbs for a woman who starts at a healthy weight. Still, I hate it because I started 10 lbs lighter this pregnancy but will end up exactly the same. It's because unlike last time I was able to eat normally during the 1st trimester. Why do I care about this? Haven't I proven I'm the lucky bitch that loses baby weight easily from breast feeding? Who cares? Still, I am afraid of being shamed by my midwife and also afraid of for some inexplicable reason not being able to lose the weight this time (it could happen). Does it matter? Who have I got to impress? Nobody. But it bugs me. It makes me feel like I'm doing a shitty job feeding myself. And I just feel gigantic and bloated and uncomfortable and gross. Blah.

So between the spending and the eating I feel all out of control and gluttonous and yucky. I spend and spend, and I eat and eat, and yet derive no pleasure from it, which is the ultimate irony. I feel totally deprived in both areas. I would love to go to Anthropologie and buy myself one nice thing for Christmas, just something to make me feel pretty and spoiled, but I don't dare. I treat myself to a pumpkin spice latte but the satisfaction is utterly fleeting. I guess I'm just impossible to please at the moment!

I see how mothers put on weight and/or spend their husbands into the poor house. Especially stay-at-home mothers of baffling toddlers. Your days are so boring and exhausting that you find yourself in a constant state of wanting to "treat" and "reward" yourself, which is dangerous. I feel myself slipping into that, and I seriously need to nip it in the bud. I instead need to find my pleasure in things that are good for me - excellent books (been reading some really good ones lately); thought-provoking movies and TV; getting outdoors; socializing; working on my business. There is a healthy way to channel this need for fulfillment. I can do it. I just need to put down the homemade fudge.