You know when your husband says something SO stupid you could jump across the kitchen and wring his neck. That was us, this morning.

Before I dive into this post, I will state – FOR THE RECORD – that I love my husband. 

I do.

But, my goodness, he can be an idiot. 

And he comes by it honestly, he really does. 

Like things come out of his mouth that he doesn’t fully consider … and they aren’t intended to sound as stupid as they do … 

But they do. 

And this morning was no exception. 

It should come as no shock to you that I am well into a weightless journey. And, when I say WELL into this, I do not mean I have already lost an enormous amount of weight, no, I just mean I have been on this journey for a WHILE. 

My husband, bless his heart, has joined me on this leg of the journey because well, he is home and it would me silly of him to eat the way he used to when I am busy preparing amazing food. 

** he USED to eat only peanut butter sandwiches while at work, ONLY **

And so, to be supportive of my efforts, and because he doesn’t want to be making his own sandwiches all the time, he is joining me. 

Eating well. 

Drinking water. 

Exercising (sometimes he joins me in this but, truth be told, he is not a fan of the cardio videos). 

And so it is that we do the dance of comparing the success and weight loss for a man vs a woman. 

Remember, men lose weight faster. WAY FASTER, than we do as ladies. For whatever reason, our bodies like to hold onto weight as if it would die if it shed that last 50 or so pounds. Like it sticks all the extra calories and poorer choices to our thighs like humps on the back of a camel because HEAVEN FORBID we find ourselves in the middle of a famine. 

Anyway, this morning I asked my husband if he had gotten back on the scale after our horrible week last week. Fast food meals everyday, every option. ALL THE CALORIES AND GARBAGE, simply because we were laying a new floor. 

After feeling like crap, the kids losing their minds, and our house wreaking of bad choices, we dove right back into smarter choices this week and so I posed the question. 

Had he been back on the scale. 

He chuckled and said something about being back in onederland (the 100’s for anyone who has not had the “privilege” of being more than 200 lbs). 

Then he said it. 

The sentence that slipped from his mouth and nearly cost him his life. 

“It’s like I don’t even have to work to lose weight.”

And if that wasn’t enough, he added that he didn’t have to exercise, that he ate whatever he wanted, and the weight just seemed to fall off. 

Can you feel me ladies. 

Did you read that line and mentally note that on Sunday, when you see my husband at church, you will give him a swift punch in the shoulder. 

You have my permission. 

Seriously. 

If I had been sipping nice hot coffee I can’t promise it wouldn’t have been thrown across the room at him. 

I mean, I know he meant no harm by it, and he was just being his male minded self. And we laughed A LOT about it. 

But, my word, the stupid stuff that comes out of his mouth can amaze me.  

 

Here’s the thing. 

There was a time when I would actually be very upset about what he said. 

I would feel self conscious about how I am not losing as fast as he was, I would beat myself up as I stuffed chips in my mouth. I would vow to do another workout or to completely eliminate carbs just so I could keep up and I would probably get upset with his silly self. 

I would be so focused on the offence that I would forget about the offender. I would forget that he meant nothing by it and would focus on what I thought he must be implying.

 

And that thinking would create hostility in our marriage as I berated him with the fact that I prepare the meals, I encourage the exercise, I am the reason he succeeds. << Don’t be fooled, I reminded him of all this as we laughed. I mean, SURE it’s easy for him when I am doing all the work and all he has to do is eat the delicious food. 

And tell me it’s delicious. 

But, the old me, the insecure me, would be mad at myself and my husband because life just “isn’t fair”. And that’s just it, life isn’t fair. It’s not supposed to be fair. And if we are going to sulk and lash about it we will never be happy nor content. 

So today, I laughed at him, at us. I laughed at the situation and allowed us to be different. 

Me, muddling around with the spare tire and saggy skin of having birthed five babies, and him dropping weight like it’s an olympic sport or he is the next contestant on the Biggest Loser. 

We are different, our bodies respond to changes in habits and nutrition differently, and that’s ok. 

What matters is that we are in it together, that we support one another, and that either he learns not to say stupid stuff, or I let it slide, like water off a ducks back. 

** which is probably the better choice as I am not convinced men ever stop saying stupid stuff **

 

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