I love my husband, but (you know something bad is going to happen, huh? - kinda like when the scary music starts during a horror movie) does he HAVE to weigh less than me?
I've been battling these last several pregnancy pounds (yes, my twins are almost 5 - yes, I'm still calling them pregnancy pounds - don't judge me!) for a while and feel I have finally decided to meet these stubborn pounds head on over the past couple of months. I have already lost 6 pounds and at least feel like I'm making progress.
My poor husband has had to deal with me discussing, debating, complaining about these pounds since the girls were born, but - more importantly - I have had to deal with him always weighing less than me.
You see, he has never had a weight issue (he really is a stick - 6 feet tall and MAYBE weighs 145) and there is NO possible way for him to understand what I am going through and I get that. I - on the other hand - have had to deal with weight issues since I was little and it has just become a part of my life. Kinda like a demon possessed security blanket.
So, when I have a mental breakdown over the fact that a few Halloween costumes don't fit me right because of my weight (that's another post for another day) there is no way for him to relate. And - as much as I want to be sympathetic to his confusion over my breakdown - all I really want to do is drop-kick his skinny butt through the kitchen window.
Love ya honey - mean it!