Yes son, oh no is right. And I can't even blame more than 10% of that mess on your little brother. Yes I need to be at the gym, and one day I'll get a tummy tuck, one day.
I miss being pregnant lately but it's usually after I see a cute, fit, young 20 something girl and all she has is a baby bump with no other bumps or lumps. But the truth is, I never looked like that pregnant and I physically I was so out of shape. It was amazing to me just hours after Dylan was born that I looked down and was astonished at how the skin, all loose and wobbly, just laid across my hips and stomach like a flat tire. It's shrunk back somewhat but not completely. Now I understand the concept of mom jeans. You won't catch me in a pair of them, but I get it. Because the pooch starts at the belly button and it's like freshly made pizza dough ready to be rolled out from there to my girl parts. And it's hard to look decent in jeans these days because of all the poochy-ness.
But then this showed up on Pinterest.com and it made me feel good and tolerable of my belly:
"A mark for every breath you took, every blink, every sleepy yawn. One for every time you sucked your thumb, waved hello, closed your eyes and slept in the most perfect darkness. One for every time you had the hiccups. One for every dream you dreamed within me. It isn't very pretty anymore. Some may even think it ugly. That's OK. It was your home. It's where I first grew to love you, where I lay my hand as I dreamed about who you were and who you would be. It held you until my arms could, and for that, I will always find something beautiful in it."
So very true. I hope my body can be stretched and expanded just one more time. But more about that another day.
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