For the past 2 days, my 3.5 yr old little princess has found it necessary to inform me repeatedly that my tummy "looks like there is a baby in there..." I'm not sure if I'm particularly bloated this week, or if it's my choice of clothing that is driving this obsession.
My first instinct is to snap back with "That's what happens when you have 3 babies in 2 years," but I somehow resist.
Honestly, in my current SSRI weaning state, one would think this would bring me to tears, but for some reason, it amuses me. I know I look like I'm pregnant, I am aware of it and celebrate it. (What else can I do, really?) But Sofia is like a dog with a bone, not letting it go.
"It's impolite to comment on people's bodies," I explain, bending down to her eye level (made all the more difficult due to my excessive belly fat), holding her hands for emphasis on this very important lesson.
Long pause. "Ok. Can I have a piece of candy?"
I think this picture sort of explains why I will always look like I'm 20 weeks pregnant, barring any reconstructive surgery in the future. (Extreme Makeover, are you listening?) This is me, the day before I delivered the boys...37 weeks pregnant, measuring 52 weeks, carrying 13 lbs of baby. Oh yeah!! This twinskin isn't going anywhere!
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