Bridesmaid to be

How exciting. My best friend has gotten herself all engaged and stuff! Not that I knew ANYTHING about it ahead of time, what with being consulted about the ring and all. But the lucky lady got proposed to in, of all places, Tuscany.

Tuscany people. How cool is that? Who gets to sit on a balcony in Tuscany with a gigantic rock on their hand and know they've found the man they're going to spend their life with? Not many people I tell ya.

But the stranger thing? She wants me to be a bridesmaid. I never thought I'd be all old and crap before I was her bridesmaid (this is not a comment on how long it took her to get engaged, but a condemnation of how fast I got old.) I mean I'm old, decrepit, fat, tired and pathetic at most times of day. I'm supposed to pull myself together and get cute and look like I belong with a gaggle of lovely young ladies, none of whom have any pity for the likes of me. I'm preeeeeetty darned sure I don't get to wear flip flops down the aisle.

And good lord, I never even thought of this when I planned my wedding. Did my bridesmaids think they had a long way to go to get ready to be in my wedding? I hope not. After all, it was me I wanted people to look at, not my bridesmaids. And theoretically, everyone will be looking at my gorgeous friend, not me, but still. Her pictures forever will have me in them. I will theoretically have to look at those pictures with me in them. Ugh.

The good news is I have year. In that year I get to give birth and hopefully breastfeed my way back to a more normal size for me. THIS time I plan not to squander post partum weight loss by eating my way back up 30 pounds just months later. Oh such a shame. I have such plans this time. I want to walk that baby around the whole neighborhood daily. I want to choose differently this time. But who knows how I'll feel? I got overwhelmed with the triplets. So I ate. Do I have a better coping mechanism this time around when I feel overwhelmed? No. Will a single baby not overwhelm me? Unlikely. I will be overwhelmed. I will reach for the chocolate bar. Oh yes I will.

I need a book that can tell me how not to reach for the chocolate. Because my friend's wedding is worth it. Oh yeah yeah, I'm worth it too. I know. Don't preach to me about self love, but I was worth it last year too and I ballooned my way back up to my highest non pregnant weight ever. And then I got pregnant. Not helpful.

By next October I need to be HAWT. Or presentable. I'll take presentable but I'll shoot for hawt. I can not be the old ugly chick next to the hawt bride and her other two young cute bridesmaids. I just can't. My kids will see these pictures and while I love having guilt ammunition to use against them (as in see how you ruined me?) I do not want it to be in my friend's pictures. She has to still love me when it's all over and I'm quite sure the wedding planning may give enough reasons for us to pass evil looks amongst ourselves. I will not give her something to point at in photos for the rest of our lives. So there.