Hey, there.

We've been together for what feels like forever, and I know I take you for granted. I'm sure there are some days when you are hurt by my lack of kindness. I know there are days when I look in the mirror and curse you.

And look, I know. Okay, I know. You weren't meant to subsist on microwave popcorn, coffee and cheese. I get it, and I'm sorry. In my defense, I am pretty sure that popcorn counts as roughage.

You've always been a good ally through the years. Here's a little secret - I've always liked your curves. From the toddler stomach I would smooth my hands over and dubbed my "oh for goo'ness sake" to the pronounced curve of my adolescent thighs to the swollen stomach that carried three children to the solidness of my rear end - you feel good under my hands, and I can sense the purpose and the power that lives in my limbs, in my core. You feel solid, and substantial and real.

That said, I'm sort of let-down by the way you look. The poor eating, the lack of daily exercise, the stress of three pregnancies and the rigors of nursing have changed you. Don't get me wrong, you still feel great - but you don't wear a dress the way I remember. And I miss that about us. You filling it out, and me strutting it around. We used to own it.

Over the last few years, I've take a stab at getting an older version of you back. I've done some wacky eating (fruit for ten days, anyone?) read countless books, joined diet plan after diet plan, and have attempted everything from yoga to bellydance to horseback riding to running, with varying results.

I bought you one of these.

And very soon, I'm going to be putting you through your paces with one of these.

You'll like it better than the Irish Dancing, I suspect. We'll see though.

Thanks for being stoic in the face of my unflattering blogging about all this.

Despite the neglect, you stick with me. Every morning, you let me make it to the coffee pot, and every night, you gratefully sink into sleep. Body, I wanted to let you know that although I often take you for granted, I really think you're amazing. And although neither of us will ever be 18 again, I'm looking forward to working with you - not against you - towards a healthier future.

Although, between you and me, if you wanted to knock off with the wire-like chin hairs, I'd be great with that.

Kisses!

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