Saturday, July 4, 2009

Babies and Baby Fat

*picture from

In the course of two days, I have fallen deeply and madly in love.
His name is Vincent and he can never be mine. I know he will leave me and that his affection for me will never equal the affection he feels for the woman who left him. He is going to hurt me but it doesn't matter - I love him. And there is nothing you can say that can change it.
I love love love my little 1-year-old boy.

Vincent is our family's foster child. My mom and dad agreed to help him out while complicated and confidential things about his parents are sorted out. We know that the chance he will grow up with us is slim but it is next to impossible not to get to attached to this amazing boy.

He has made my arm muscles sore from all the carrying but I do not mind. Lord knows my body needs the exercise.

My mom has gently been trying to tell me I need to lose some weight. And although that usually drives me nuts, she's so right that there's no room to be offended. The past few months have seen me growing bigger. Thing is, I know I'm fat but can't seem to bring myself to care. Which says great things about my confidence level but bodes very badly for my vital stats.

I think my ladida-ness may be because there's no one I want to impress. I have bowed out of the dating scene a few months ago and am not really in the hurry to go find a boy I can seduce with a Red Light Special striptease - hence the lack of pressure to be Red Light presentable. (I still have cute underwear though. :P clothes are clothes and they should always be cute.)

However, I do need new shorts. I have spent the week trying some on and have so far found 3 pairs I really love but can't wriggle into despite grabbing the largest available size. And boys or no boys, I think it is sad that my legs have to be trapped in jeans just because I don't fit into shorts.

This is the part where I grudgingly admit that diet and exercise have got to make a reappearance. Vincent being my step one to having amazing new arms.

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