fuck skinny jeans

soy sauce is definitely off the list.

that is, of course, unless you're into 8 hour crying jags and baby vomit.

this is wearing thin. incredibly thin. super mega ultra thin.

(its also sounding remarkably like a feminine napkin for some reason???)

I'm not sure whether its more accurate to say that my exhaustion is compounded by hunger, or that my starvation is compounded by lack of sleep.

either way, I feel like emotional shit every time I fuck up, slip a no-no past my lips and the kid suffers.

and here's the icing on this here slice of forbidden cake. I'm starving AND fat.

I'm still about 10 lbs up from where I want to be and eating almost nothing. whoever said that nursing makes you lose weight apparently did NOT have my body chemistry.

I swear to all things unholy that my body is PURPOSELY retaining some chub so I can feed this kid. somebody lied to teh suki.

teh suki is not pleased.

I'm currently wearing a size 10 (I'm 5'3" peeps. size ten is HUGE in my world) jean held up by a length of christmas ribbon.

I have no clothing (and if my phone doesn't stop ringing I'm going to flip my shit) that fit. I'm soliciting donations from sistas with weight issues to get me over what I'm hoping is a temporary hump.

maybe once I'm not too tired to move (this is literally the case some days) I can start, well...

moving, again.

I dare not even dream of climbing, riding, skiing or otherwise enjoying myself. the Prof can't be left with anyone for more than 2 hours, and my boobs hurt too much to well....move.

but on the up side of things...at least the house is (as usual) super duper trashed and we have a funeral to attend.




I really want some damn chocolate...or a nap.