First off, apologies to anyone who will, by the end of this post, be ready to take out a knife and stab my avatar through their flat screens or beat me to death with a celery stick. I know that there are people out there who would be quite happy to take this problem off my hands. If anyone knows some kind of voodoo soul swap magic that could allow that to happen, please email me. Send bat claws and newts eyes as an attachment.
Anyway, the point I’m getting to is that I am having a wee bit of a problem here. A total of 22 months (and counting) of breastfeeding, 18 months of pregnancy and 16 months of running round and round and round after the super charged Chop have left me with an immune system shot to hell. And way, way too skinny.
And when I say skinny, I mean skinny. If I were blond, people might mistake for Sophie Monk. And that’s not a good thing.
My name is Lori, and I am a Lollipop Head.
After being sick last week and unable to ingest solid food for the better part of 48 hours, I lost 4 kilos. Which leaves me at 45 kilos, and about 158 cm’s. My size eight jeans are falling off me.
Again, not good.
So, I am embarking on Operation: Eat More. And I am hereby taking all the dieting rules and reversing them.
I am eating all the kid’s leftovers.
I am snacking between meals.
Carbs are my friend.
And I can eat whatever the bloody hell I like, and then some.
I know,I know, it sounds like a dream to some. But being, as I am, not particularly partial to food (why oh why don’t cigarettes and tea contain vital nutrients?), it’s a bit like forcing it down.
I’m giving it two weeks. If I don’t gain a kilo or so, I’m off to the doc’s.
Operation: Eat More. Going into overdrive, as of now.
Wish me luck.