girlfiend

I’m sitting in bed at my mom’s house in a wet t-shirt. This is rather unusual, as I can’t actually remember a time I did this on purpose. But alas, my breasts were the size of cantaloupes this morning and I needed to apply a cold washcloth before going back to sleep. I woke up sort of cold and wet, but the Fiendling hasn’t eaten and my right breast is still the size and texture of a softball. I really hope this morning’s engorgement is not indicative of another overproduction issue. Because that stretch of time, which took more than a month of recovery, really, really sucked.

You know what else sucks? My mother telling me I need to diet. When she said I shouldn’t have an English muffin with breakfast, that I should stick to the protein of eggs and bacon I got a little annoyed. When she made shoestrings for dinner (my mother, though she deep fries them, refuses to call them french fries. They are shoestrings.) she only made enough for herself and Boyfiend, I got really annoyed. Though I wasn’t on one, she inflicted a diet upon me. My mother decided I was on a low carb diet and shouldn’t eat fries. Sweet.

Yes, I want to lose weight. Yes, I still have 22 pounds to go before I’m back at pre-pregnancy weight. Yes, I am exercising and not eating cheesesteaks for dinner every day. But I exercised and watched what I ate before I even got pregnant. I eat junk food sometimes, but mainly I eat pretty well. I generally avoid stupid carbs, like processed white breads and stick to whole grains and whole wheat bread and crackers. But fries with dinner one night? It was so insulting.

I have lost a few more pounds. Not many, but I’m now at my fattest pre-pregnancy weight ever. I now weigh what I did when my mother sent me on a teen tour for a summer because she didn’t want me around. I sat on a bus and ate for a month and gained 15 pounds. We were at an amusement park and we played one of those games where the guy has to guess your weight within 2 pounds. I didn’t believe him when he guessed mine and I was mortified when I stepped on the scale and weighed 134. That’s what I weigh right now. At least it’s not 165.

I can fit into a few pairs of my old pants. They button and zip, but because of the squeeze factor and resulting muffin top, I don’t plan on wearing them for another 5 pounds. I’m just pleased they fit over my ass again.