The announcement of my 10 year reunion should’ve shocked me. Has it really been 10 years? I was prepared though, as my oldest son was born a few months after graduation. I’ll show this in a hilariously funny conversation my son, my father, and I had when my son finished the third grade and was about to start his summer vacation.

“Can you believe I graduated Kindergarten only a few years ago? Man I’m getting old.” My son looked down as if he were remembering an ancient memory.

“Can you believe this time 40 years ago I graduated high school?” My father said.

“Well this was a long time ago for someone my age, Pop.” My son rolled his eyes as if to say “Oh silly Pop”. My father laughed.

“What do you mean? That we’re old?” I looked at my son, pretending to be angry. He looked stunned and started to stutter something to backtrack his statement. I decided to join in the conversation. “Can you believe this time 10 years ago, I graduated high school?”

My son looked at me, and he goes “10 years ago? Wait.. I’m going to be 10….” He looked at me confused. I changed the subject.

This made me realize the timing of my pregnancy was terrible. If I had gone to my reunion pregnant, there would be an excuse for my size. They’d touch my belly, making me wish I could drink to forget them all touching me, and be done with it. Then they would mock the other skinny girls from high school that seemed to double in size since graduation and we’d all feel better about ourselves. Don’t worry about the girls being mocked, it’s an open bar and they’d probably already be half in the bag.

Except this reunion I’m not the skinny girl from high school. I’m the “just had a baby and look awkwardly big” stage of post-pregnancy. I figure I have about a month after my doctor gives me the thumbs up to get back to working out to get into some sort of decent shape before I become the girl who was scrutinized. At least I have the advantage of basically being invisible and not so memorable.. maybe. The calendar is giving me hives considering this, but I’m stubborn… I mean, I’m determined.

So dear weight loss gods, just give me 20lbs and I’ll be happy. Either that or replace the 20lbs from my lower half and redistribute it up top. If they’re bigger, people won’t pay attention to the baby weight. Yep, I’ll be happy either way but I would prefer losing it. I might be vain for thinking this, I probably am. But I’m definitely not the only person in history that wants to look at least semi-decent for their reunions. I’m sure gyms split their money up from people getting in shape for reunions and people getting in shape for their weddings.