Life's been pretty good
part with the exception of an occasional political protest prior to bedtime which always leads to a complete and utter pass-out just when I'm about to give up and plop him in front of Mickey Mouse and Pluto who usually drag him into their virtual, high-gloss and polished childlike reality and spit him back out lifeless, dull and full of sweet dreamy slumber.
Aside from that, we're all OK and doing well.
I'm in WW (that's Weight Watchers) and most days I'm not starving so
that's good. I occasionally feel especially famished however and then
spend most of my time obsessing about what else I can eat and when I
can eat next and how many of these few-too-little points do I have left
to spend and thank god for those bonus points. UGG. (and that's not a
I find it fascinatingly ironic however that I gained weight after my child was born. Not during. And the guilt I feel is burdensome and fuels my hunger and obsession to lose it as I realize that I am one of the few who actually lost weight while pregnant. I read that if you don't gain enough weight when you're pregnant, your baby survives on your fat cells. That's a fine diet plan except that I've eaten nothing but toxic waste for 20+ years ever since my parents relinquished their organic garden-of-eden grasp on my youth. Fat cells store those those toxic french fries and pesticide laden fruits. How I lost weight is difficult to explain, but I weighed 145 when I got prego, went up to 150 or 155 while prego, and after Oliver came out I weighed 135. Now I'm back to 145. Well to be precise, I weighed in two weeks ago at WW at 145 on the nose. I lost 2.2 pounds in 6 days and my last weigh-in was 139.8. Yippie. The starving and obsessive point-counting paid off.
I'm not starving anymore tho. Mostly.
Ok, enough about weight. I'll keep you posted Internet as to how I
progress with that. I am determined to stick with it, and when I get my
slight self back, watch out! I am going to show off my hard work. Not
sure exactly what that means, but I think that means no more cape-
like, drape-like clothing. Not more hiding the muffin top which I know everyone sees anyway. And low-cut tops? Why not. I've only got a
few youthful years left before my neck sinks in and I begin to look
like a woman gone chicken. Plucked and sucked. Cluck Cluck. OK, I'll stop now.
Oliver is cuter than ever except I had this impulsive idea to trim his
bangs. That led to chopping off more than I wanted but it was hard
because even tho he was stuffing his face with blueberries and
watching Donald and Mickey at the time, he squirmed a bit and chop
chop bang bang he looks like a girl now. Oh well. It just makes his
chubby cheeks look chubbier. I'll have to post a pic soon.
Ok back to work. I'm on my lunch. What little of it I was allowed to
Ciao for now.