Once In XS, now In-Excess.

I was crowned bayi sihat when I was a baby. I grew up thinking that the baby on Dumex can was me. No, it wasn’t me. But I was as sihat.

I was born a big baby, Mak said. I was so huge I got stuck at the door on the way out. I got my head out and that was it. Mak didn’t deliver me in a hospital, it was in one of the rooms of Tok Aji’s house. Not the easiest of delivery but thank God, the Bidan was experienced and there were lots of ‘segala dukun and pawang’ there too, one poofed and puffed at the door, one spit and spat in a glass, others were using all sorta, kain lah what lah… and finally I was through. I was almost blue, probably lose a few hundreds of brain cells due to lack of oxygen. Which explains why my IQ is only 550 (I am gifted, what can I say).

Mak said I was huge.
‘LAPAN KILO!’ She sounded proud.
‘Takkanlah mak… dekat sekampit beras tu!’
‘Iye’.. Mak insisted.
‘paun kot, bukan kilo..’
‘eh entahlah.’

So I was between 8 lbs to 8 kg. The eight was consistent, the unit was not.

As a kid, I was skinny though. My hair would always be in the china-doll hair style, but because I was skinny, from afar people would think I was wearing a motorbike helmet. I was a skinny runt alright.

As a young adult, I could eat all I wanted and would not gain a single gram. When I was in ITM, I had an eating buddy. Dila and I would binge on food whenever we were .. the word back then was, tension. Everytime tension we would ‘makan sampai mabuk’. We would go Seroja Inn and ordered mi goreng basah, and then nasi goreng dengan telur mata, and satay and roti sadin and all sorta. We would eat for hours, one plate after the other and downed them all with coca cola. Exams and boys were always valid reasons to get drunk on food. We were always drunk!

When I graduated from ITM, I was 21. And weighed only 39kg. I would call this the famous Eat-A Lot-But-Remain-Thin Era.

And then came the Must-Diet-To-Remain-Thin Era. I was in my early 20s. I wasn’t fat but I was no more skinny. I could be thin if I diet a bit but there was no real need for it. I was perhaps looking my best, my weight was ideal-shy. If I diet, I would be skinny again. Easily. Effortlessly. ‘Exercise’ was a dirty word, I don’t do ‘it’, unheard of!

And then Must-Diet-To-Not-Be-Overweight Era dawned. I had to diet or bust. I was always on the borderline of the ideal weight range. If I put on make up or apply that second layer of mascara, the few extra grams of colours would make me exceed the weighing scale to be ‘overweight’. Dieting was necessary. Exercise was optional.

Those were the good days.

I am now in the Diet-Also-Will-Still-Be-Overweight Era. I am seriously considering to change the name to be Diet-and-Exercise-No-Longer-Work Era. Even when I diet, I still gain weight. Even when I jog and 'be-on-top' I will still gain weight. Luckily I am married (poor Yamtuan, he got cheated. He married lean meat of 43kg and ended up with fat 10kg extra, tsk tsk tsk). Being married I can always use pregnancy and childbirth as excuses.

When I help myself to seconds,
‘I am pregnant. I am eating for two.’ Never mind that the pile on the plate was enough for six.
And then,
‘I am lactating. I am eating for two.’ Never mind that the kid only gets about two drops of breastmilk.

When people commented on my thickness.
‘I just gave birth.’ Never mind that the new-born is now almost one year old.
‘I had a caesarean so the tummy will always look like THAT.’ Never mind that other people with c-sections look like they have a six pack (mine looks like a barrel).

When the weight problem gets really out of hand, I just go get myself pregnant again.

Reason for this ranting about weight;
* A girl gave up her seat for me in the train. She probably thought I was pregnant.
* A friend said she was asked too many times lately whether she had any neat little buns cooking in her oven. She is NOT pregnant too.
* Yamtuan kept making jokes about my bum size. Not funny.
* Dot said my bum is so big macam-macam ada, whatever that means.
* Nothing fits anymore. I am contemplating wearing my maternity clothes. They’ll fit.
* I once wore XS, now L.

Sigh… I do so look forward to Ramadhan.

Now where did I put that chocolate bar? It will go so well with this steaming hot mug of milo. All this talk about weight problem is making me depressed. Making me tension only. I need a new eating buddy. Anyone interested? Just grunt, no need to raise your hand, too much work. Just grunt and snort, babe!

I have indeed come full circle. I am now Baby Sihat again and i have difficulty going through doors. Must walk sideways or be stuck. Cant have bomoh pawang help this time though.