kiwords

Poor Sophia. Her day started so well, too. She was just a wee bundle of joy this morning, all giggles and coos and happy squeals. Her brothers tickled her fat legs and she kicked and laughed and was generally just a ray of sunshine in a size two diaper.

So I took her to the doctor for her four month check.

You know what happened then, right? They jabbed her cruelly FOUR TIMES in the previously mentioned dimpled thighs. Before the first shot she was sitting on my lap, chewing on her fingers and smiling at the nurse, dribbling spit and goodwill down her chin. Then the first needle pierced her skin and she froze, her eyes wide, and then a pitiful keening cry started in the very pit of her belly.

It was JUST SO SAD.

But to backtrack a bit, the good news it that she's healthy. She's growing and developing just as she should. The doctor laughed as he showed me where she falls on the growth charts, because the pattern is just so familiar by now. She looks exactly like the boys did at her age, percentile-wise. Her height is in the 17th percentile, weight in the 46th, and head circumference in the 95th.

I give birth to Weebles.

I guess since Sophia is just exactly as Weeble-shaped as her brothers were, I have to cop to being the bearer of the Weeble genes. If I'm honest, I'm a bit egg shaped myself. Even when I'm at my skinniest, I have a distinctly...sturdy look about me. And at the moment? I am not at my skinniest. This is making me insane, which may explain my own behavior today.

It started out to be such a good day, too.

And then I decided to throw myself under the bus that is Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred. Good Lord. That woman is insane. And she wants me dead.

I was RIGHT THERE WITH her for the WHOLE STINKING WORKOUT. She said "push yourself" and I said "YES MA'AM, CRAZY LADY!" She said, "Change requires work" and I said, "My thighs are made of molten lava at the moment, WILL THAT DO?" I lunged and pushed up and squatted and jumped jacks and sweated and swore just a little. And then? Then, on the very final cardio set? My left calf said, "Screw this noise," and it locked up. It seized, as though its intent was to pull my heel directly into the back of my knee.  I made a yelpy noise that was ever so suave and sexy, dropped like a sack of overcooked potatoes, and grabbed at my leg.

In case you're wondering, that doesn't really help.

So tonight I hobbled around, snarling that I was fine, and cuddling a morose baby girl. She moaned sad moans into my chest, I limped like broken limpy person, and together we were very very pitiful indeed.

But we'll get through this, oh yes we will, and do you know why?

Because we don't fall down.