It rained all day yesterday, which was unfortunate for me, since it was diaper wash day. I ended up having to dry everything in the dryer. It’s a waste of electricity. Stupid nature. Don’t you want me to help save you!?
Hubby: “Good for you, Babe! That’s awesome!”
Me: “Do I look skinnier?”
loooong pause. awkward look from my husband.
Hubby: “I don’t know.”
Me: “What do you mean, you don’t know?!”
Hubby: “So do you want me to start paying attention to how you look?”
WHAT KIND OF QUESTION WAS THAT??? SERIOUSLY???
It’s come to that. *sigh*
I still have about 20 pounds to go until I hit my pre-baby weight. Well, it’s probably less than 20, because my boobs are bigger. That has to count for something, right? My pre-baby weight isn’t my ideal weight though. My dream is to have the post-basic training body I once had. I never understood how some girls went through boot camp and looked virtually the same. One girl even gained weight…in all the wrong places. By the time I finished all my Army training (I’m including AIT here, where I learned my Army military occupational speciality [it’s just a fancy word for a job]), I had nice, ripped abs and could pump out a decent number of pushups for a woman. I’m not going to share the number here. I’m just going to say it was a decent number, okay? Probably more than you can do! Unless you’re a dude, or built like a dude. The reality is I will probably never get back to that fitness level. There’s no way I have time to hit the gym for hours every day.
In other news, I had an argument with a friend about cloth diapers last night. I’m going to write a post convincing him, and other unbelievers, that cloth is awesome! I’m actually a little offended (just mildly), that he thinks I can’t come up with any decent arguments. Obviously he hasn’t read any of my articles. *humph* I’m a decent journalist. I’m actually award-winning, and my articles and photography have appeared in many high-profile places and outlets. But I’m not going to brag. I never brag. Well, almost never. I brag to my friends. But I’m not one of those people who posts every military ribbon or award photo to Facebook. Even though I could. I’m pretty sure the number of awards I have blows any of my peers out of the water. “Oh, you just got THAT award? Good for you. I have two.” I’d have to either kill 30 bad guys or drag 30 good guys out of a burning building to get another award. Okay, that was bragging.