Check yourself

Rather than have a full-blown wedding, The Sarge and I opted for a 3-minute ceremony at a Tucson courthouse attended by our two best friends. We spent a large portion of our time before the “ceremony” taking pictures of the people around us. For anyone who enjoys the sport of people watching, courthouse weddings are the place to be. After our three minutes of fame, the four of us piled back into the car and had an overpriced steak dinner at a fancy restaurant across town. At the end of our meal, our waiter asked us to pose for a photo in front of the fireplace. He then gave us a copy of the photo but we’re fairly confident he kept the original for their front desk so they knew to never allow the giggly, inappropriate hyenas to dine at their establishment again.

Fast forward one year: Due to circumstances outside of our control (the military), we moved to North Carolina 10 days after the “wedding” so The Sarge never got a chance to meet my family. We decided to have a one-year anniversary celebration in my home state of Washington so he could just have one large interrogation rather than several small ones. However, after this plan was put into place, we found out we were pregnant. At first, this seemed like a case of terrible timing but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this was a gift from above. While I realized I wouldn’t be a newlywed bride, I also knew that for my family and friends, this would be the closest to a real wedding they were going to get out of me. And no one wants to look at a fat bride; you’re supposed to at least be in semi-decent shape if you’re going to be the center of attention for an evening. Insert pregnancy here and I was off the hook! What could have resulted in me driving my husband to insanity turned into a great situation. No pressure to be thin or toned or any of the above – I’m growing a human! You’re expected to look like you’ve been hooked up to an air pump.

Our photographer rocked and posted some highlight photos on his blog which further boosted my self-esteem. There was no doubt I was pregnant (I have an intense fear of just being perceived as fat) and was still managing to rock some 6″ heels on top of it. Those feeling came to a halt yesterday when we got the rest of our photos back. I quickly learned a few things that were hard to swallow. First, highlight photos are exactly that – the best of the group. In order for something to be the “best” you have to have something that is less than the best. In my case, the less than best photos revealed to me that I have a prominent chin. And I’m not talking about my first one – it’s my second chin that is prominent. It really makes a statement and I’m pretty sure the statement is “I am a layer of fat dangling below your face.” Also, I have my mom’s butt. After years of making fun of her for being a pancake ass, genetics have reared their ugly head. From now on, when posing for photos, I am going to make a point to sway my back just so it doesn’t look like my chubby upper dumper did a landslide into my upper thighs. Finally, I need to learn how to laugh without pushing my face into my neck thus eliminating my jawline completely. It’s simply not an attractive look for me. All that being said, it is by no means the fault of our photographer that I have some physical issues to work out. Despite all these things, I love our photos and am so glad to have them. Moral of the story: check yourself before you wreck yourself. A little investigation into how you look from various angles can make a world of difference. Though I’m not so sure there’s hope for the double chin at this point.

As they say in the South, “bless your heart” (and chins and back/butt)

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s