time marches on and on, just like they told me

I'm going to be honest here. I walked into that hospital tipping at 200 pounds. Okay. I lied. I didn't walk into the hospital, I was wheeled in. I could barely walk. But whoooooo, howdy!! Breastfeeding twins, exclusively, is the world's best kept weight loss secret. Some blisters, bruises, and burning breasts, and VOILA! 130 pounds. I'm quite shocked, to be honest. I think I need to eat more.

Honey is starting to make her Hollywood rounds. Shaking hands, bright lights, heels, lipstick, talking talking talking... work. I've been able to beg off as her date several times now. I know my double pump comes with a handy backpack, in the chic color black no less... but I just can't see how it won't block my bling on the red carpet. Simply no way to lug my baby cafeterias around town right now. (Oh, thank you, sweet jeezus.) So each week I put on my cleanest sweats, comb my hair, and schmear some lip balm across my I-need-to-drink-more-water-lips... and meet her at the front door where she is coiffed and posing like a show dog, ready to move and shake with the smoked and mirrored.

Damn.

Well, isn't that just like life. I want to blog more, but I can't. A baby is crying.

[she lassoes a moonbeam, and joyously flies to the piece of her soul's extension]