As I was taking my morning walk I could hear a little voice in my head saying "activate your core". I looked down at my little squidgy pooch and immediately thought "what core?" because my core seems to have been lost somewhere along the way to middle age.
I started off as a slim teenager with no thought about diet or exercise - in fact I can't even remember either word entering my thoughts or hearing them spoken at all in the 1970's. We all just ate healthy (there was almost no take-away other than fish and chips) and we were reasonably active and just stayed trim without giving it a second thought.
Then along came children -BIG bouncing babies!! and although my body returned to pretty much the same size, things seemed to have shifted around quite a bit. My pert boobs had become little ski slopes, my hips were wider and I had a "pooch" which hasn't shifted in the years since. It happily goes for walks with me, hangs around when I would rather it sucked in, and generally refuses to budge. Spanx hides it a bit but Spanx is an evil in itself that I would rather avoid if possible!
I found out about "your core" around the time that yummy mummies started to make an appearance. All these women popped out babies and were sunning their flat abs in bikinis months later. We never had that pressure, but it's definitely all around me now and a constant niggle in the back of my mind. I could address it by starting a full-on exercise program or liposuction (both as unappealing as each other), or I can choose to accept that a "pooch" is a trophy of middle aged mothers (except for a lucky or disciplined few) and get on with enjoying my life. I am a great believer in the motto "all things in moderation", which means I will never give up the occasional chip or chocolate, or start a regular gym membership. And if that means I carry a little bit of softness on my midline, then it will give my grandbabies a comfy place to rest. Here's to self acceptance - long live the pooch!