I fully admit to doing it.  As much as I try to divert my eyes in grocery check out lines, I invariably glance at the tabloid covers.

I rarely reach over and actually pull one off of the shelf, and I have never opened one to read.

However, I have to say, the horrible photographs and smut do grab my attention for a second.

Especially if there is some kind of horrific photo of a celeb caught off guard, wearing a bikini, with cottage cheese and bat wings all hanging out and flappin’ in the wind.

And if there’s a celebrity mom who recently gave birth on the cover, I silently pray the person in line before me has coupons and needs a price check so I can do a double take.

I mean I need some reassurance that I’m not the only one with a lumpy ass, some extra skin…

…or an extra 10 pounds they can’t seem to shake.

I know I don’t have personal trainers, a plastic surgeon, or even the energy to think about working out. But this time around, I cannot help but feel just plain old.

By this time after my first pregnancy, I was already back into my size 4 jeans.

This time? Not so much. Even though I gained significantly less weight.

My body feels more tired and my joints more achy than they did last time.

You know you’re getting old when everyone at the “New mom support group” is younger than you.

You know you’re getting old when your daughter points out the ‘freckles’ on your hands, but you realize they’re really just age spots.

You know you’re getting old when the only cast member from GLEE older than you is Sue Sylvester.

I totally need my own Madonna video remake.

(7 weeks postpartum)