If You Can't Tone it...the Body that is

I've been trying to ignore this nagging voice in the back of my head that is viciously clawing it's way forward to the section of my brain where I actually start paying attention to the sent message. 
I'm thinking it's time to stop ignoring and start listening. 
Let me first explain my predicament.
Like December 1st-ish I was feeling all, "I want a BIG challenge in my life." I was feeling this building ambition to do something. To focus my energy and accomplish something tangible. And so mentally, I decided I was going to get all cut and have my body looking all good to go to Hawaii in a couple months. 
Well thank goodness that commitment was only made mentally and never actually made it to a piece of paper. Therefore you can't call me a quitter or a flake or any like synonym because there's really no evidence that I said I was going to do that. Besides the fact that I just told you that I mentally said I was going to. But we all knows I a bit crazy so my mental commitments count for NOTHING. So who's to say that I accomplished or didn't that getting hot challenge that I may or may not have made?
And anyways, as the Law of Physics go, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Or something of the sort. Feel free to quote me if this somehow works into your best interest. The point being this, December 1st-ish quickly turned into December 14th, which initiated the start of the kids winter break and also the start of my nanny's one month vacation. Which meant I was suddenly rolling solo. With all four kids. All day long. Bless my heart-- I said it for you. 
Well something had to give if I was going to stay sane and the kids were going to stay alive, and so just like that, I committed to NOT stepping foot in the gym for the next three weeks. And although this too was only a mental commitment that may or may not have been made, I can tell you this for sure...I didn't step foot in the gym for those three weeks. {Perhaps tennis counts as exercising? If so, I can at least say I did a bit of exercise.} And that's not even the bad news. Want to hear the bad news?
I LOVED IT. I loved not working out. I felt like I had all this extra time. The kids and I were on a good routine of hanging out and doing fun things in the morning, then relaxing in the afternoon. And so, being the overachiever that I am, even after the three weeks were over, I kept NOT going to the gym. Can you believe my discipline? To keep on trucking ahead even after I had crossed the finish line? I'm pretty impressed myself. 
But back to that voice that's clawing its way forward. It's time to listen. Because the nagging has something to do with buying a swimsuit. I mean my choices are pretty simple. Buy a swimsuit or seek out the nude beaches...
And so I bought a swimsuit. And left it in the bag until yesterday when I decided I better try it on. So I put it on and here's the thing: it looked fine. Nothing better, nothing less.

photo credit

As I was sliding the bottoms on which included physically lifting my booty, cheek by cheek, into it's fitting place-- because that's what mamas do-- I felt this reality coming on. Looking into my deceitful full-length mirror, I didn't regret not physically committing to my mental commitment of working this body out Jillian Michaels style because the mirror reflected the obvious that even a super cut body wouldn't hide- it looked like a total mom swimsuit. Which is sorely disappointing if you're a mom wanting to have a suit that doesn't scream from the poolside that you're a mom. I'll let the four screaming kids clue people in to that fact. And my other swimsuit option didn't act as very much competition:

Are we going to argue that this suit doesn't scream MOM louder than the other one? Hello stomach that has been deprived from the light of day for the last however-many-years.
And so I get to go to Hawaii either looking like a boring, loss-of-identity mom or a half-vampire half-faked-baked fool. And before you shake your head and yell Skinny girl problems, I do have one piece of advice. And it is more directed toward that nagging voice that harasses this mama. If you're really trying to be helpful, next time try repeating this incessantly,
If you can't tone it...tan it.
That might have actually done me some good.