I went shopping today with a bunch of church ladies. It was a lot more fun than it sounds. I brought the child, and she screamed almost the whole time. Motherhood rocks!
(actually, I'm loving it; but gushing about my pweshus just isn't entertaining)
I bought a sweater. A sweater that fits. And do you know what? I look skinny in my sweater that fits. Do you have any idea how that feels? No? Swallow a freakishly large watermelon. Let it stretch out your stomach for approximately fourteen months. Cut watermelon from stomach. Cry every time you look in the mirror for the next two months. Finally break down and buy something flattering even though you just know you'll fit back into your pre-watermelon clothing again someday, and you just don't see the point in wasting all that money on a new wardrobe. Cry again, this time because you look like an actual woman.
I thought that, with the baby sleeping like a rock every night now, someone would eventually hand my brain back to me.
So why did I try to smear deodorant on my nipples instead of lanolin the other morning?