Placing Blame

Husband and I will be attending a wedding this weekend, sans children.

That might not seem like a big deal to you, but it certainly is for us.

We don't have extended family nearby and we've never had a reliable babysitter. Every time we managed to find someone we felt comfortable with, they moved away, got a "real" job, or fell in love.

We gave up looking years ago and sort of just accepted our fate. We don't have the kind of social life that takes place independant of children anyway. Most anything we do socially inevitably includes other married couples and their kids.

So getting away by ourselves is a huge treat for us. I've really, really been looking forward to it.

What I have NOT been looking forward to, is shopping for an outfit for the wedding.

Even thin, shopping is a challenge for me, because I am short, and pear shaped, with an ample behind and a ridiculously small waist. My top is at least one size smaller than my bottom, sometimes more.

But now? Fuhgettabout it. Everything I put on depressed me.

You see, I dropped 60 lbs in 2005. Then, slowly, the pounds reappeared. Just one here and there. Another size up. And then down. And then up again...but only until next week, next month, next year. I would take care of it after school started. After Christmas. After the New Year. After Spring Break.

And now suddenly, I am fat again.

It's my own fault. I know that. And I know how to fix it. I've done it before. But that doesn't help me right this minute when I'm feeling bloated and unattractive after trying on outfit after outfit under the glaring fluourescent lights, schlepping from store to store desperately looking for something to camouflage the back fat and bat wings.

I came home discouraged and depressed.

I dropped my bags, flopped on the couch and glared at my husband. I needed someone to blame and he was an easy target, the unconditionally loving bastard.

Feeling my eyes upon him, he looked up from his laptop with innocence written all over his face.

"What?"

"It's all your fault."

"What? Why?"

"Because you always tell me I'm beautiful."

"Uhhh...."

"Maybe I would have more motivation if you weren't so accepting. Don't you love me enough to be critical occasionally?"

"Of course I do!"

Silence.

"Well?"

"But I..."

He stopped and sighed heavily. Then he squared his shoulders and said,

"You really need to do something about the size of your ass...bitch!" he growled.

"That's more like it!" I snarled in return.

Then I stomped into the kitchen looking for something to bolster my flagging spirits. I thought there was a bottle of Two Buck Chuck that might do the trick. But I stood there, gazing into the fridge, forgetting why I had opened it.

Then I felt his arms wrap around my waist and his lips gently nuzzled my ear.

"Don't make me do that again, baby." he said. "I just can't."

I pattted the hand that rested on my fourteen year old post-baby bulge.

"I know. That's why I will always be fat."

But suddenly, it didn't seem to matter quite so much.

This is for my husband, who has seen me at my best, and at my worst. And still loves me.



When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one there to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love

I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
I've known it from the moment that we met
No doubt in my mind where you belong

I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue
I'd go crawling down the avenue
There's nothing that I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love

The storms are raging on the rollin' sea
And on the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
You ain't seen nothing like me yet

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true
Nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends of the earth for you
To make you feel my love