I've decided that I shouldn't ever complain about the few extra pounds of baby weight I've yet to shed. History would say it's just not a smart move. The last time I did that after having Ella, I got nailed with a stomach bug, so while I did lose what was left of my muffin top, I was also losing my lunch and dinner and breakfast and, well, you get the idea. Apparently this time around, it's strep throat. (Which I would gladly take any day over the stomach bug). Takes me back to the days when I regularly got strep throat as a little girl. (I always knew it was bad when my doctor had me open my mouth and then reeled back and said, "whoa.") But it's been so long since I've had it and time does a great job of deadening the senses and skewing the details and I forgot just how much it sucks. (Oddly enough, I conveniently forgot certain things about pregnancy too. I somehow remembered that morning sickness "wasn't so bad." Seriously? And now I pray that I will always remember the day I spent on the bathroom floor when my little guy was apparently implanting in my uterus before I let Jake or anyone else talk me into going for #3). But back to the throat thing. It hurts to swallow anything. I forgot about this. Water. Saliva. Sour Patch Kids (I had a hankering for them. Yes, it's weird). What little appetite I do have is satisfied with cherry, orange and grape popsicles and today for lunch, I had mac-n-cheese and a few tater tots. I've adopted the "eat whatever sounds good" rule and have discovered that I have the palate of a 3 year old.
I wish I could say that I always try to find the good in the not-good situations. At times like these, unfortunately, it's much easier to say, "Woe to me. My throat hurts like a b**ch." (I do say it, just not in front of the kids). But today, as I was changing out the last of my winter clothing for spring and summer garb, I thought, well maybe I'll just try on those jeans again. Lo and behold, my favorite pair fits. And the reason they're my favorite pair? Because they're the ones I wore before I got pregnant with Milo- the coveted size 6 that have been sitting under the 11 other pairs of maternity jeans I've had to work my way through. Yes, yes, I might still be pasty and my muscle tone is only "meh," BUT... I didn't have to lie down flat on my bed to get them zipped up and that, my friends, counts as a victory in my book.
So, to the white spots on the back of my throat and my swollen lymph nodes, I say, thank you. Oh, and suck it. I win.
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