The Bald Heffalump
The stretch marks are back. With a vengeance.
I, myself, was trying to ignore them. Until an overly-observant child of mine asked,
"Mommy, what are those purple things on your legs?"
Which proves that even if you can fool the entire world with spray-on self-tanner, your kids will always find you out.
The stretch marks wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for my..ahem..rear end. You know that BEEP! BEEP! trucks use when they go into reverse? Yeah. That's me now. Wide-load, people. Get out the way.
Back in prehistoric times when I was a size 4 and just weighed a cough over 100 lbs., I watched with glee as my body morphed into a heffalump with my first pregnancy. I blithely believed everything would "just shrink back to normal" after I popped out the baby.
In a show of blind confidence, I even packed jeans into my hospital bag for the return home.
I was a very, very silly girl.
I know better now. I've grown wiser with age. It's called: The Big Dress. A dress covers a multitude of sins. Sins I'd rather not look at everyday.
Starting from now on, I am wearing dresses everyday. They're cooler, breezier, prettier.
Now if I could just find a cure for going bald. Because when my kids say: "Mommy, what's happening to your forehead? I can see it, like all the way back!"---that's when I know those clumps of hair falling from my head? Can't ignore them anymore.
Time for a hat? Or a buzz-cut?