D1: ”Mummy, your tummy is super-big. There is a baby inside…”
Every time I recline after dinner (exposing my tummy in moments of self-abandon), we end up having this conversation.
It’s the same observation delivered bluntly as he jiggles my exposed ‘tiny-jiggly-wobbly-mummy-paunch’ between his two tiny hands. Totally harmless observation coming from my toddler. Or not.
One may think it’s an innocent and harmless observation but these little ones are way smarter than we give them credit for.
You see, he has been forever pestering me to give him a baby girl because his little brother is forever getting on his nerves and wouldn’t share stuffs with him but I tell you he’s always making that remark not because of his longing for a sister but because my ‘mummy-tummy’ is super-big compared with his teeny 1 pack!
Now I sometimes hide behind the ‘my-tummy-is-big-because-I-am-way-bigger-than-you’ answer but looking at the mirror and some of the pictures not-carefully posed for, I had come to agree my tummy is no longer the fabulous flat shape I was accustomed to pre-wedlock but now a well-rounded panda-like contraption.
Me: ”No, there is no baby in my tummy”
Him: ”How can there be no baby in your tummy when your tummy is big like kungfu panda?”
More emphatically: ”It looks like there is a baby in your tummy…how can your tummy be so big and you say there is no baby inside?”
Me: ”Well there isn’t any baby in my tummy. I should know.”
Him: ”How can you know? Maybe there is one inside.”
Ok…you asked for it..
”Well, my tummy is big because you and D2 made it big when you were in my tummy.”
Him: ”But we are no longer inside your tummy…Maybe it’s because you eat too much…”
was seriously below the belt but it didn’t hurt one bit…but, how much of ‘Semo’ do I really grub daily?
Truth is, I was beginning to resent my muffin top because it makes me look awkward in pictures that makes my pencil dresses seem so ill-fitted!
So much that I wish I could wish my flat tummy back with an imaginary magic wand…and say ‘ta-da’ like the boys.
Now, that shouldn’t be hard, right? Having back my flat tummy is nothing some self-discipline and exercises could not handle but who would want to go to such length just to get rid of a tiny muffin top that poses no security threat to the world?
I’m still a learner, apparently.
In case you’re wondering, a muffin top is that wobbly lump of flesh that wickedly decides to settle in your mid-riff, hanging over your trouser/skirt waistline and making you look like you’re in the early stage of the second trimester so much that little boys start asking you…’mummy, is there a baby in your tummy?!
Maybe you also have one…or not exactly a muffin top but some ‘general’ extra weight you’re lugging around and which keeps you watching the scales. Do not despair, you are not alone.
See? It’s not so bad when you have company.
Just two days ago, after the most recent exchange with the boys…I stood in front of the mirror again trying to ‘critically’ access the situation from all angles.
Then the truth smacked me right in the face from two, no…three different angles.
One: I still have this tiny muffin top because I’ve been privileged to carry some little seeds that germinated and blossomed into little chatter boxes.
Two: I have it because I’m so indisciplined where food is concerned which is primarily because I have food in the first place..
Three: I still have it and we talk about it because I am privileged to still be alive to even lug it around.
More important angles:
– The entry requirements for heaven does not include being flat-tummied…Papa God doesn’t give a hoot about shapes and sizes! He’s really not going to stand at the pearly gates saying ‘you shouldn’t have eaten so much or you should have taken time to exercise properly’ to get rid of the excess weight.
– I am surrounded by people who love me regardless of my muffin top even if they sometimes innocently poke jokes about it.
– It does not affect my quality of life in anyway.
– It does not define who I am or my effectiveness at what I do.
We are in similar boats?
So tell me, what is not to love about harmless muffin tops?
How about headbutting this by just going ahead to give thanks for your muffin top?
This is not to suggest or imply that we should ‘let go’ and cease striving to live healthily but we are who we are and what we are should not define who we are in our bid for ‘perfection’.
Next time you are tempted to organize a pity party in honor of that lovely muffin top, remember you have this sweet ‘problem’ that others struggling for survival in third world countries would give any and everything to have.
They hardly keep a scale in the corners of their rooms or embark on diet or set up treadmills in some of those countries, right?
#BeThankful and while at it, spare some thoughts for those who would give any and everything to have some real good muffin tops. Know what I mean?
So back to my cheeky boys…next time I forget to keep my tummy covered and I’m pestered about this, I promise I’m going to proudly announce with all pomp…sorry to disappoint you little guys but I’m not pregnant, it’s just my muffin top..and I’m thankful for it.
And that is bound to trigger endless questions about what muffin tops are. Definitely.