So while I've spent the past few weeks carefully crafting the telling of the birth of my son (I'm still not ready, literally or emotionally, to post it), my body, especially my belly, has very slowly been trying to get back to its pre-baby form.
When my husband got me a bag full of junk food as a Mother's Day gift (among other things, don't worry, he's not an idiot), it was because I'd spent the two days before that loudly announcing my ephemeral cravings for chips, cookies, nachos and salsa. But the morning of Mother's Day I resolved that I would give up junk food for a while and actively pursue abdominal firmness.
Then this windfall of sugar and salt fell into my lap, literally.
I would like to think that I scarfed all of that junk food - to wit, a bag of chips, a bag of nachos (I had help with that, though), a box of Oreos, a Coke and a grape Crush - in two days not because I am a disgusting pig, but because I'm in a hurry to begin my new diet without temptation. It looks horrifying when you read it, and it's even more horrifying when I think about what I've put into my body.
Yesterday I spent a few hours systematically going through my pre-pregnancy clothes, ruthlessly - though sometimes wistfully - sorting them as, "it fits", "it will hopefully fit soon", and "Jay-zus, my boobs are too big for this." It is the latter pile that really frustrated me, as it included one of my favorite dresses, nearly all of my lingerie, and about half of my shirts. I also threw out about half of my underwear (will never fit me again), three of my bras (too old and waaay too small), some stockings with runs in them, and socks with holes. I've now got an overflowing bag of gently used clothes that I'm going to first offer to my future sister-in-law, and then to Value Village.
While my shirt pile is much smaller than it was before, it leaves room for new, well-fitting shirts to come into my life. I learned long ago not to get too hung up on the number on the tag (for a while I used to remove the tags on my clothes, and then conveniently forget what size I was), so new pants will be in order too, to accommodate my post-baby saggy belly.
Sod's law says as soon as I buy pants that fit me properly, I'll probably lose the weight and belly fat that requires they be larger than normal, and then I'll need to get all new pants again, but I'm okay with that.