Fat jeans
Posted by keanetwins on January 4, 2012
Dear Internet,
My scales officially hate me. I have exactly the same five kilograms to go that I did last week and pointing out that I am fifteen kilograms down sounds good but it doesn’t change the fact that my bum is big and apparently determined to stay.
On the plus side, at least I’m in my fat jeans. The zip and I may be stretching the friendship a little but I call that sort of thing ‘details’, and details like that should probably be kept secret and distributed only on a need to know basis. Nobody else needs to know. Don’t tell.
I mean, it could be worse. I could be in my maternity clothes all day most of the time because nothing else fits but in a small unfortunate newsflash that is exactly how life goes right now.
Sigh.
I guess this means that I can no longer eat leftover mince pies unless I want my backside and belly to continue to own their own postcodes. Life is tough.
At least the baby slept for eight amazing hours last night and was not in fact dead or comatose upon surprised checking in the morning and thus I am a well rested fat chick with but one additional problem of two pointy Madonna boobs. I’ve discovered that when your baby decides to give them the flick for eight hours, unexpectedly, the blasted things get a bit confused about what to do next. There should be some sort of memo distributed at bedtime so we’re all on the same page.
Ouch.
Jo
