Because, let’s face it, if my boobs are going to be flat as pancakes when this is all done, there better be SOME perks, right?
I eat. A lot. Most of what I eat has to be stuff that I can eat quickly because Joshua’s next highspeed meltdown always seems to be just a millisecond away (okay, that’s hyperbole, but still). And, thanks to his milk allergy, my fast food choices are Wendy’s, Wendy’s, or, oh yeah, Wendy’s, since they are the only restaurant whose food is dairy free (provided I don’t get cheese, of course, which would just be stupid of me).
I stepped on the scale yesterday, just sort of on a whim, and the little digital numbers bounced around a bit like they do on the scales on The Biggest Loser. Then, imagine my surprise when, after our little scale did its “3-2-1” countdown the number 188 popped up.
Y’all, that’s FIVE full pounds LESS than I weighed a year ago when I got pregnant. And I gained close to fifty pounds while I was pregnant.
This whole eat-like-a-sumo-wrestler-and-still-lose-weight thing is pretty freaking cool.
Too bad I may actually need the miracle of a Miracle Bra after this…