Juicy Butt

In my husband's mind, I am a size zero. I don't know if this is due to some kind of weird body dysmorphia thingy, (that is, if you can have body dysmorphia for other people?) or if because he is a lot bigger than me but he thinks I am (and refers to me on occasion as) a "wee thing."

While extremely flattering, it is also very frustrating, as my closet is now home to all kinds of junior- sized, teeny tiny items of clothing, that my hubby (with the best of intentions) has gone out of his way, mind you, to purchase for me. 'Barbie- doll' clothes I call them, these exquisite yet tiny jeans, dresses that come only up to my hip bone and more recently, this box of 'Juicy couture' underwear.

We will leave the discussion of whether a 30- something- year- old -mother- of- two has any business wearing 'day of the week' panties (or ANYTHING by Juicy for that matter) for another day. Let us focus for a mo', on the fact that the underwear can barely fit over my wrist, much less my bum. Sigh. I got your 'Juicy' right here, babe.

The Bootylicious, pp

Skinny On the Inside

I have been having serious weight issues, more mental than anything else though. I have 'psychoanalysed' myself and I realise that I have been spoiled by the fact that I have never had to actually struggle with weight loss, fat, or any of that for that matter. In the good old days, I would basically just cut out bread or rice for two weeks and 'Bam!', enter 'the hotness'.
But after monkeyboy, um, not so much. I have basically only lost 25 pounds in two months. The other problem is well, I gained 43 lbs instead of the 25 I had gained with Numero Uno. Now who's bright idea was that one? I kinda got cocky I think, and now I am paying for it. In spades.

The weird thing is that I still feel skinny on the inside. Like when I tried to fit into my black velvet, soft like butter, size 4 'alice & olivia' skinny pants, I was momentarily confused when they wouldn't go past my thighs. Sigh. I don't get it. I have been kicked out of the 'skinny bitches club' and I stand here, nose smushed on window pane, wistfully looking in. "I wanna play too!" Yes, I do have the flair for the dramatic, don't I? But then I look down at monkeyboy, who is almost always inevitably cradled in my arms, and you know what? It's worth it. And you can take that to the bank.
xoxo,
the matronly prada principal