I remember being little, and seeing my Mom and her post twin-babies belly, and wondering how in the hell it got like that. Where the skin kind of moves on its own and can be stretched and twisted.
And as much weight as I have lost in the past three years, all the running I have been logging lately, the abs crunches, the late nights at the gym, I can't get rid of my "I gained 40 pounds with both kids" belly. There is muscle under there, but I am thinking that the only way to get my stomach in any way, shape or form to be able to ever wear a two-piece bathing suit in front of people I know would be surgery. And that ain't happening. Unless I win the lottery I don't play. Or Ray sells a four million dollar home. Then we have to fight over a tummy tuck for me or a new Jeep for Ray.
And the stretch marks. It was sad. I had stretch marks below my belly button with Ashley, and then because those were so nice and pretty, with Audrey, I got them stretched above my belly button. Fantastic.
So last night, I was reading the girls their books before bed, and my shirt was showing my stomach somewhat. And the girls became fascinated with the fact that I had lines on my stomach, and if they hurt, and how my skin could move and stretch, and how their stomachs were nice and tight.
I am blaming my Mother for this one.