To The Rude People That Feel the Need to Comment On My Child

I love my daughter. She has these big, wonderful cheeks that draw a lot of attention, most of it positive. However, there are those that feel the need to talk about my "big baby" like she's a freak of nature.

"Whoo, that's a big baby!" said in a voice like they truly can't believe the girth of this child. Sure, she's nice and chubby, but no chubbier than she should be, so I definitely don't appreciate the uncalled for comments.

No, she isn't twenty pounds.
No, I don't feed her table food.
And yes, you need to stop talking to me because I'm about to get a big attitude. I'm a pretty nice person. I don't get mad all that easily, but it's the tone I find disrespectful. Some people say "Oh, I love those chubby cheeks." Or "What a cute little round baby," and they say it with love. I'm not talking about these people. I love those people. I'm talking about the ones that act as if they're looking at the craziest thing they've ever seen in their lives, like me and my baby can share clothes, or something. These are the ones that are about to make me lose my usually sweet disposition.

Just because she is a baby doesn't give people the right to say whatever they want. Just because you know me or are related to me doesn't give you the right to say whatever you want. My child is not oversized. She's a sweet little baby that loves to nurse, as she should.




Zara's Mommy,
Nadirah Angail

Fat Cow Moments

I thought this was me.     

 Apparently, this is me.

                                                       

Let me explain.

I tried on a dress today and couldn’t zip it up. I tried it on some weeks ago and couldn’t zip it then either, but I wasn’t bothered because I had just had the baby. Now, I’m bothered. Zara is 11 weeks. That dress needs to be zipping. I didn’t gain that much weight while I was pregnant (20 lbs) but it’s taking long to come off. The baby alone was 6.5, and I figure the placenta and whatever else came out was around 3. So, that’s almost 10 lbs right there.


Why in the world can’t I lose this last ten? Disregard that last sentence. I know why. Because I’m not doing anything to lose it. I do eat pretty healthy (which I assumed would be enough) but clearly it’s not cutting it. I was working out for a while, but we’ve had some houseguests that have been staying in the workout room/guest bedroom. I called myself only taking a few days off, and… well, you know. Procrastination become full out abandonment.

It really bothered me that I couldn’t zip that dress. I felt so… so… fat cow. Yea, I know “fat cow” isn’t an adjective, but it really summed up the feeling I’m trying to portray. 10 lbs. isn’t really a big deal, or at least it shouldn’t be, but I really need to get back to my pre baby weight (which wasn’t all that small to begin with). I have a lot of cute clothes that need to be worn. Plus, I know that this 10 lbs. can become a breeding ground for other ugly little lbs.

I was doing pretty good, feeling like I was doing a nice job of slowly getting back to my original weight, but that defiant dress zipper alerted me to the fact that I’m no smaller now than I was 4 weeks post baby. Apparently, my weight loss progression marker took a sudden plunge to zero immediately after the baby was born. I’d like to say I’m going to get back to working out, but that’s a statement that is often made and rarely fulfilled. I’d rather just hit you with a “down 10lbs.” post. We’ll see.



Zara's Mommy,
Nadirah Angail