Suffice it to say, I ate too much last night and I really enjoyed doing that. Now today, I weigh 148 instead of 146, and I'm painfully aware of how pudding-ish my belly is. I'm not saying I ate so much that suddenly my lower abdomen turned into everyone's favorite Cosby-related dessert, I'm pretty sure, based on things like photographic evidence, that I already had that belly. But I think maybe it looks bigger today.
Sometimes I see a part of me that I don't like, upper arms, thighs, gooey pudding-belly, and I think, "oh crap. I'm gross."
I've decided not to let my gross moments be the end of me. As of this morning (this fat, gooey morning) I still have 28 pounds to lose. 28 pounds from now, I won't have gross arms and legs and belly. At least, that's the idea. There are some things about havin' babies that don't just go away after losing a few pounds.
Dang kids, better be worth it.
Tell me about it, little jerks! My body looks like HELL after being preggo! Oh well, what else would we do with our time if we didn't have to worry about trying to lose weight, right? I mean, besides reading that book we've been meaning to finish, or travel to see the wonders of the world, or finally finish all of the laundry, or become rich and famous, or... *wink wink*
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