Last night, we met a family friend Dr.A, after quite an out-stretched time gap. She is an accomplished Ayurvedic doctor by profession, renowned fashionista by passion and kind host by choice. The bond I share with her is as old as my three years of marriage.
Since she also has a toddler, our conversation gushes itself out like an overflowing Sintex tank and various topics of interest like toddler food, temper tantrums, sleep cycle, first words and potty training get discussed.
After an exchange of you-know-what-my-baby-did-last-night talks, Dr.A softly maffled, “You have slightly put on weight again, girl! She is one among the handful of women who can gently point out a matter of concern straight to my face without offending the heart.
The fact that my x axis is expanding on a weekly basis isn’t a news to me. I know it already. But it’s only when a friend rightfully points that out and prods me to do something (perhaps, anything) about it, I call it a sign that requires immediate attention.
Plan for the upcoming week: Cut down the size of meals.
May be, I took the eat-for-two rule way too seriously during pregnancy. Now the son is 1 but I still have three flabs and a double chin to burn out. Oh, then the Feet, I only need to time-travel to see how mine looked like. What shall I do now? My diet is a different D.I.E.T., the only perk of it being well balanced with my weight!
It’s already time to toil hard and revert this amorphous identity to my signature guise of being round. Atleast.
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