Baby Back-Fat

Momma has got some serious love handles.  They are not cute.

I'm going to talk about baby weight.  You think I won't go there.  Ohhh, my darlings, I'm going there. 

I gained 30 pounds with Henny Penny.  I am convinced it would have been about 50 had I not felt like an exhausted, flu-ridden, shadow of myself for 4 months.  Because when I started to eat...I ate.  And ate.

Once I was eating lunch in the break room at work and the 'maintanence specialist' on our unit asked me if I left anything in the salad bar?  Well...A-Hole.  I am eating a gigantic salad because I am starving and growing a human inside my body.  The look I gave him could have melted paint off the walls.  If you are a man and reading this...It is NOT okay to comment on the size of a woman's meal.  Especially if she is pregnant.  He's lucky I didn't have a pair of Hemostat clamps in my pocket.

He'd be less a pair of balls right about now. 

Trying to get rid of the last baby weight has been a bit of a struggle.  After Henry was born the number on the scale just kept dropping...it was great. Everyday was another pound gone.  Then...it stopped.

Dead in its tracks.

I think I was about 24 weeks pregnant when I got out of the shower one evening and really looked in the mirror.  I ran screaming down the stairs in my underwear. Michael was playing X-Box and he looked up, panicked.

"What's wrong!"  Thinking something was wrong with the baby.

"Look at my thighs....!!!"  It looked as if I was attempting to smuggle bean bags in my inner thighs. 

Well... the baby is gone, and the thighs are not.

At some point I will have to admit that the muffin-top and squishy thighs are not because I had a baby 3 months ago.  They are the result of zero self control and guacamole for dinner...

That is a tough pill to swallow. 

In happier news, Henry is napping.



Praise sweet Jesus.