My mother was in town this weekend and occasionally I would catch her eyeing my stomach.
Twice, yes twice, she reached out and touched my belly.
She was trying to verify her suspicions.
And I'm here to shout from the rooftops: I AM NOT PREGNANT!
I swear it!
That extra flab you spied is exactly what it is... fat.
I've gained a few pounds since falling in love with the Super Big Gulp and fallen out of love with running.
I'm pretty sure she's shaking her head as she reads this, thinking I'm off my rocker. But I promise you, and swear on all that is holy: I. am. not. pregnant.
That is the last thing this family needs. :)
Besides, we just got use to the idea of being parents to a two year old. Could you imagine the choas another baby would throw into it?
I love you Mama and trust me, you'll be the second person to know the second we decide to expand this family.
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