I just can't wear it…

I got a new sports bra a few days ago – and it REALLY holds. It is truly a foundation garment. Every time I wear this new article of pain I think of this shirt. I suspect my new bra is made of stretchy duct tape. I would love to get the t-shirt to wear with my new chest pincer because my bosom does take on an unnatural shape. However, I do not have the nerve to sport a t-shirt drawing attention to the strange phenomenon caused by the aforementioned undergarment. So, I’ll just blog about it instead – it is so much more discreet

Speaking of t-shirts… I like this one too. “Move over, Skinny.” Hee. Though I am actually probably more on the small-boned side, I have always thought I lean more toward the chain of humans who have evolved from our larger-boned ancestors. True, I have been able to lose most of the baby weight acquired during my last pregnancy, yet 5 pounds remain. I am accepting the reality that the last 5 pounds have fused themselves to my skeleton. I’d actually like to lose 10 more, but then I’d have to give up chocolate, fun coffee, my occasional Chubby Hubby, social drinks… the popcorn with extra butter and m&m’s when I go to the movies all 4 or 5 times a year… ya know, basically all the joyful part of calorie consumption. I can’t be a happy “skinny” without those things! It is better to accept the “big boned” theory and feel the love of chocolate/sugar/simple carbs/salted butter coursing through my happy veins. So… Move over, Skinny… I need another cookie protein bar.