New Year. New Post...New Ass.

It happened. I was sailing along beautifully (if I do say so myself). I was being cautious, but not obsessed. I was enjoying every bite. But not EVERY bite. And then "BOOM!." Just like the smack of the big girl dropping her tray at the all-you-can-eat buffet, I got fat. I don't know what happened. I mean, I know it has something to do with the holidays. Even after Christmas dinner when I had eaten so much that I could barely migrate from the table to the couch without emitting a whale song...I still asked for pie. I couldn't help it. It was a homemade pie. It was going to go to waste and I just couldn't stomach it. What's worse, is that after that one slice of pie that sent me in to a tailspin of discomfort and gluttony, I couldn't just throw the rest of it away. We kept the box in the fridge and had a slice a night after dinner for a week. We finally threw it away two nights ago. But it was too late. The damage was done. I realized last night that if you listen carefully at meal time, you can actually hear me "moo-ing." I no longer eat from a plate. I eat from a trough.

Here's the disappointing part. I've had two pregnancies where I truly have eaten everything in sight. All discipline out the window. I mean, with Sawyer, I stopped counting my weight once I gained 60 pounds because I was so disgusted with myself. It truly got ugly.  AND, because I've done this two times before, I know how hard it is to lose the weight after the baby comes. Gone are the delicious memories of that third slice of pie you ate from the trough after your second helping of Christmas dinner. All that's left is that pesky stretch mark and extra roll (and I'm not talking dinner) that you have to spend the next 6 months cursing at the gym.

So where do I go from here? Now that I've realized that my dreams of living out the remaing 12 weeks of pregnancy looking like Nicole Richie have gone down the hatch like that last slice of pie? Well, for one, I'm strongly re-thinking that maternity photo sesh that I swore I'd finally do this time around. I mean, unless Theresa has the latest magic version of Photoshop...because, really!? What am I going to do with a few 11x14 bovine-esq shots of moi? Hang them over the mantle? No thanks. And, sorry 22 loyal readers, because it's my blog and I have the power, probably no more week by week (I know, this hasn't been the case...I'm more on a post-every-7-week sched now anyways. Forgive me, the kids are playing in the liquor cabinet now as I type. I'm a little busy.) belly pics. I'll leave you with a few today just so you don't feel you've been given the shaft...but other than that, pics are going under strict lock and key until further approval (photoshop editing) from me. Did you know you can smooth out a double chin!? I do. Because I've actually had to request this. A few times.

Here it is...in all it's glory. Just one EZ-Take-out burger away from a natural disaster...

27.5 Weeks

And just so you don't think I'm one of those girls that talks about how huge she was but really wasn't...here's proof that I was massive when I was pregnant with Sawyer.

Go ahead. You can gasp. I do. Honestly, the pillow should say "Food Magnet."

And since we're having so much fun, here's a pic of me one week before I delivered Sawyer. Brace yourself.

 See!? I cannott tell a lie.

Ok, and finally, because I believe we should end on a positive note...Here's our Christmas pic this year. I was like, I don't know, 16 weeks pregnant or something ridic. I thought maybe I'd stay this way and be one of those "only-pregnant-in-the-belly-type preggos." Yeah, not so much. Happy New Year folks.