small house + small gym = small body. big house + big gym = big body?? For the past several years, my house has been small, my kids have been climbing on top of each other and my small gym has been my great escape. And I have to say, it had been working pretty well for me. What better way to escape the annoyance of cranky kids fighting with each other in close quarters than to bring them to the gym where I can escape and work out with my friends while they play with theirs? We did this. A lot. A whole lot. It's easy to maintain being a size zero when you live at the gym. Not so much when you never go. At first when we moved, I was just too busy unpacking and getting settled to get to there. Now I'm just too content. My house is big and spacious, the kids have room to play. I would much rather be at home baking or decorating while the kids play contentedly upstairs than drag them out just to get a mediocre workout in a room full of strangers. This is not working so well for me. I am not one of those who is blessed with a good metabolism. I eat a brownie, my jeans don't fit the next day. Period. I am currently like a sausage, squeezing my no longer a size zero butt into my size zero jeans because I refuse to accept the fact that this is the new me. You know the term "fat and happy"? It doesn't exist. Not for me. Happiness may be what leads to fatness, but with fatness there is no happiness. So there. I may have to find new ways to get myself motivated and keep it interesting, but deep inside, there is still that love of working out and the adrenaline rush that comes with it and I refuse to let it die. And more importantly, I refuse to succumb to mom jeans.