For all you doubters who thought that my goal to fit into my fat jeans by February (in this case, the end of February) was ambitious (clearly codespeak for "that fatty thinks she'll shrink that fast? Ha, she'll be large for life after irresponsibly gaining too much weight during pregnancy."), well, suck it. I fit into my fat jeans, they snap and everything. I still won't be wearing them in public for the muffin-top they give me, but hell, they fit. I realize that all you people who did pregnancy and motherhood better than me fit into your fat jeans within one month and not four, but hey, I'm doing my best.
We took the jogging stroller out yesterday, I didn't get any photos, but I will try to next time... I think Charles found it tolerable. Buster, on the other hand, found it awesome. And not a few people on the Padilla trail found it humorous to see a woman huffing and puffing over two miles with a jogging stroller and a crazy dog.
Tony continues to work very hard - it's comforting and makes me very proud, on one hand, to know that he is so smart and good at his job that he gets lots of work and is very busy. On the other hand, we miss him around here, and can't wait for tax season to be over.
Finally, this is what Charles looked like when I told him about his Grandpa's cancer:Dad, Charles thinks you should get lots of exercise and eat really well so that you can beat this thing forever!