Getting rid of some fluff.

Once again it is time to crack down on this big ass. 6 weeks post baby and there is work to be done. Last years squat challenge was successful because I put my mom ass on blast and shared photos of the progress. This time, it is the squat challenge, plus 10-15lbs needing to go. So. As of today I will refrain from carbs like they are the plague, and begin the treacherous squat challenge, again. I won't be updating this progress weekly, only crying about it weekly. In 30 days I will re-post a photo, failure or otherwise. As of right now I am soft and fluffy, hopefully in 30 days time I will be a smaller version of soft and fluffy. I have no desire to be solid, toned, muscular. I am a fan of the softness in a woman's body, I just want a healthier style of it. I want to wear a bikini and I want to be back into last Summers cut offs without a muffin top or bottom ass spillage. That aim may not be particularly high, but it is happy.  Here is my body now, in all of its 160 pound, 5 foot 2 inch tall glory.
                                   Ken doll dick included.

 

These underwear are, much to my husbands dismay, usually pulled above my belly button. I will sacrifice my comfort for the sake of this photo.
You're welcome.
See you in 30 days.

 

 

 

 

 

Don't we all?

There is an insane amount of authority lost when I drool on myself/down my shirt while reprimanding my child. A little bit of dignity escapes with that saliva too.

These feelings are almost the same as when I am throwing a tantrum, pouting, or arguing with Girth...storming & stomping away only to rip ass along my stormy path. I can just feel my resistance slipping away like the air from my asshole.

Having the sexy look of wearing a thin unpadded bra is almost not worth the effort of constantly making sure my nipples look straight.

Whenever strangers swear or say something filthy in front of me, then apologize- I say about 6 nasty filthy words in my head. Outloud I say, "no problem"...but I feel like a raunchy double agent.

WebMD will have you convinced of your imminent death in about 23 seconds. Yet I go there each time my shit smells slightly off.

I spent 9 months being pregnant and judging everyone. Now I am probably going to do a whole bunch of the things I bitched about. Then if anyone brings it to my attention, I will tell you to lick my nuts. Walking contradiction, impossible to argue with. And I'm still going to judge you when you do those things.

When I get dressed I hike up my tits into my bra, set my jeans just right on my hips, suck in my stomache a smidge, and then praise myself for looking hot.  10 minutes later I walk by a mirror...not sucking it in, jeans have lost position, and tits are bulging....can't understand why it looked good 10 minutes ago. Like my brain/eyes are set in "50 First dates" mode.

Going out last weekend for the first time in a year has me absolutely convinced that should I ever become single, I will be a lesbian. If Girth keeps up his shit- put me on speed dial, ladies.