I wrote a blog awhile back about accepting our bodies. It’s an every other day thing for this momma. I could write a book. Or two. It’s something I fought and won and lost and then won again and then really lost and then super won and then lost again long before I became a mother … since about puberty or so. I’m pretty okay with where I am right this minute. Some days I’m not. Some days I decide I’m going to really work out (or at least really think about finding my tennis shoes) and watch what I eat (this is something I have to do thanks to food sensitivies that kind of ruined my life but I can still eat waffle fries and drink sweet tea so there’s that).

One of my favorite sayings in the whole world — “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” If you don’t believe it then maybe you’ve never really been skinny or maybe you’re naturally skinny. But, dear Lord how good does it feel to be skinny? So, there are those days I think I’m going to buckle down and get a hot body. Then the next hour or day I don’t care. I think I will embrace my shape and be happy about it as is. Ain’t nobody got time to throw tires (Crossfitters) or Latin booty shake (zumba) or run (unless someone is chasing me.) But, that’s me.

It’s all about priorities. Last week I came across this super obnoxious pic of a super (I mean smoking hot don’t-go-on-a-double-date-with-her fine) mother of three that’s a fitness guru with the pic of her super smoking hot body in shorts the size of my underwear and a sports bra that gives me confidence that either she never breast fed a day in her life or those aren’t entirely all natural. She has her three cute kids around her with the title “What’s your excuse?” O, sweetie. Where do I begin? Well, I’d rather watch 37 minutes of trash TV (have you caught The Vampire Diaries lately? Hello.) on my DVR or talk to my husband about what kind of flowers I know we’ll never actually plant in our flower beds or read Outlander (the world’s longest series ever) or work on The Great American Novel I’m convinced I can write or cook something fun and creative that takes way too long. (I won’t do the thing here where I say Hot Fitness Mommy is a bad mom neglecting her kids to get that body. I’m judgy … but not that judgy.)

I say I don’t have time to work out. But, it’s not a priority for me. It never has been. (Except that one time I ordered a bridesmaid dress a size too small for motivation and spent six weeks without a carb.)

While I’m clearly super jealous of Hot Mommy, the truth is that if having a great body is your thing then I send you a big mommy fist bump. Just like I try to give a mommy fist bump to my Pinteresting friends for those sparkle wreaths. If it makes your heart sing which makes you happy which makes you a better momma then by all means throw a tire, twist that burlap, aim your glue gun and paint that initial for your wreath.

So, what’s my issue with Hot Fitness Mommy? That accusatory tone and the following defense (now that us Regular Mommies are calling her out) that’s something like “I wanted to motivate moms that if I can do it, so can you.” Wellllll, sweetie. I’m not buying it. Maybe because it has your website under the quote?

Hot Fitness Mommy is not really the issue here. It’s a whole great big world full of expectation that we face each day as women. Expectations that start in our own homes and hearts. Something that’s even harder when you’re a mom (with a body that’s changed beyond what you could imagine) with little time and lots to dot. It’s the idea that being healthy means looking like a fitness model. It doesn’t. There are a lot of women with big booties, no six packs and a few extra pounds that are healthy overall, that are strong and that haven’t failed at anything.

Looking like I do — it’s not perfect but overall I’m healthy and eat pretty decent. I can’t throw a tire, but I’m strong enough to wrestle a 34-pound, two-year-old in the throes of an epic fit. I try not to let my dress size dictate my self worth. And I often wonder when women will quit judging our value and success by what we see on the scale? When will we quit believing that someone hasn’t reached their goals because they can’t pose in a sports bra and underwear? (I just refuse to accept those shorts are shorts that woman is wearing … they are underwear.)

I’ll say it again — being healthy and looking like Fitness Barbie are two very different things. I think it’s time we accepted and lived our lives that this is truth.

As I was writing this I came across a post on Facebook from our own local Fitness Barbie — Khristie Gass. The Physiques owner is a momma and in great shape. She had a pic of herself post baby before and after her workout efforts with Funkie Fusion (some sort of working out thing she invented that clearly works, I’m not an expert so won’t pretend to be) with a message along the lines of “hope it inspires you!” And it kind of did. (I don’t mean enough to actually find those tennis shoes for real.) But, it was proof that even a super busy business owner (I know she owns a gym, but still the woman has a full plate and then a couple of side plates) and mother can reach her goals. And she can inspire — not judge — other moms to do the same. A lot of women could take a lesson from her. Be proud of what you’ve accomplished. And know that being strong is way more important that looking hot in your underwear.


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