Was that a Fat Joke?

Today I weighed Henry. He’s four weeks old and he now weighs 11.6 pounds. In case you’re wondering–that’s a lot. Suffice to say–weight gain has not been a problem for him. Not that it should be–the fat little cherub eats all the time, although I think we may be getting closer to three-hour stretches at night which I am completely okay with. Trust me.

So, I have to ask. Am I the only one who has a hard time figuring out what to wear to stuff? Case in point: my brother is getting married on Saturday and I need something to wear that fits and makes me look ten pounds skinnier. Plus, all my uh…dimensions are different (read: larger) since I was pregnant about a month ago with a gigantisaurus. All I have to say is this: my poor family. Here’s how much time it took to find an outfit that “works”:

4 trips to ross

2 trips to kohls

3 trips to target

1 trip to the mall

When I itemize it like that it’s pretty embarrassing. I’d like to believe this is a curse most women bear, right up there with child-bearing and not living in the Garden of Eden. You know, the one where you go to a closet full of clothes and wail to your husband, “But I have nothing to wear!”

Just another reason men find women mysterious.

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