I'm Getting Old and I've Let Myself Go

Note: This is not a post about my children, though I feel they're partly to blame for my condition.

My 9th anniversary is in a few days (and I turn 40 this year). I know everyone knows this, but it's amazing how quickly time passes. Not too long ago, I showed our wedding album to the kids and they didn't recognize me. That's because I am a bloated, tired, old crone version of the fresh-faced bride I was 9 years ago.

Here's how I've let myself go:

1. I'm chunky. I've never been skinny, but I was always fit. Then I got pregnant twice and ate a bunch of doughnuts. The rest is history.
   
2. I'm tired. I have 2 small children, neither of whom is mellow (though I was promised a mellow one after the first spazzer was born).
3. I wear a sad mom uniform. Part of the reason I have a sad mom uniform stems from points 1 and 2; the rest is because I work from home and no one ever sees me. The uniform consists of a ribbed tank top under a scoop or v-neck long sleeved t-shirt with jeans or Old Navy "walking pants" (glorified sweats) on the bottom. 
4. I don't exercise...at all. Today an old friend emailed me suggesting we get together this weekend for lunch or a run. I was like, 'Are you nuts?'. Then I remembered that I used to be athletic.
5. I don't wear makeup. It's not as though I used to be a Tammy Faye, but I had my little routine. Now, if I wear makeup, it's a special occasion. Case in point: I was putting on eye liner and Sophie came in and saw me and said, "What's that?!"
6. I don't shower enough. And its not because I'm trying to save water.

 The good news is that I'm actually much happier than I used to be. But every now and then I'll look at myself in the mirror and think, "Who the hell is that?!"