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Challenge: Why I Love My Mom Bod

I carry the weight of my weight

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I carry the weight of my weight, and I'll tell you, that fudger is heavy.

So is the ridiculous amount of anxiety and guilt I feel surrounding so many of my food decisions.

I know what you're thinking, what's there to decide?

If you're hungry, EAT. And if you're feeling full, STOP.


when your family is Italian,

you grow up eating every meal like any minute food could go out of style, and so you must gobble it up,

and it all tastes so damn good, food becomes



and, well, kind of your prize for being alive and being certifiably awesome.

Which was fine when I was



and even 18 'cause I was playing soccer and exercising practically every single day.

It turned not so okay when I

went to college,

stopped playing sports or working out,

got me in a cozy relationship

and lived in a small studio apartment right about a pizza/wing joint.

And it doesn't serve me too well now that I'm a mother to three rambunctious munchkins who love food just like me as I try my damnedest to get and stay healthy.

I've been all over the map when it comes to the scale. I've weighed in at 206 lbs at my non-pregnant max and 121 (once when I had the flu) at my adult minimum.

As I write this today, I weigh in at a healthy 142.

You heard me right, a HEALTHY 142.

Is it my ideal weight? No.

Am I slightly overweight if you believe in the BMI scale? Yes.

But do I give as a big of a hoot about it as I used to? I’m really working not to.

Because, at 35 years old, here's what I’m coming to understand --

Not ever, when someone thinks about me or talks about me, are they ever going to be like,

"That Nicole, she is overweight."


"That woman, she is in great shape."

What people (I hope) are going to say about me

-- if anything --

will be remarks on who I am as a person.

Am I kind?

Do I have a good heart?

Do I try my best?

Those are the things that matter and NOT whether

I share some McDonald's fries with my kids,

have visible stretch marks

or stomach rolls when I sit.

Do I have the 'perfect' body? No.

Do I care? I’m trying very hard not to.

Because do I love who I am plus or minus 5, 10, 15, or 20 lbs?

You better dang well believe it!

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