Dear sweet holy wtf. 

 
Let me start by saying, I love my child’s artwork. I love the way she sees the world. 

Or maybe I should start by saying, I’ve spent thirty minutes on the elliptical for the past two days. After two babies and too many oreos and three and a half months since Harper made her way into the world, I know it’s time to get this war-torn mama-body back into better shape. 

Ok fine. To the point. This masterpiece, as shown above, is a portrait of none other than yours truly, drawn tonight at the dinner table (unlimited chips and salsa anyone?) with my entire (skinny) family. My family that runs marathons and can wear whatever they want (and could probably fit in the restaurant booster seat). 

You’re probably noticing from the drawing that I got new glasses. I did. But I guess I should explain a little more about my above rant. Because the drawing actually looks slender and flattering. Except for that bush thing. 

I know, you were probably like “oh I didn’t even see that!”

We had just gotten done reminiscing about how one day when I was young I brought home a drawing of my dad from Sunday school with a giant long thing hanging between his legs. Yep. Turns out when I explained it that it was his necktie. 

Isn’t karma cute?

So I asked Lexi to tell me about her drawing. Me, of course, with my glasses, holding baby Harper. 

“And what’s this?” I asked, pointing to the black hole vortex in my lower abdominal region. 

“That’s your stomach!”

Oh. Well that’s not as bad as it could have been. 

Kind of. 

Ug. 

Now do you understand my Oreo disclaimer? 

In hindsight I wish I would have been like “oh, my six pack abs.” Because I use humor like that. But I didn’t think of it until just now. Sigh. 

At the end of the day, I love kids for their refreshing honesty. Back to the treadmill.