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So my doctor essentially told me I was a fat ass today. Okay, so she didn't actually use those words, but I saw the look on her face when she saw my current weight. Hell, it was the same look I had when I heard my weight. I've gained 36 pounds. That is a lot, my friends. My doctor actually quizzed me about what I eat and asked if enormous babies run in the family. When I called Nate to tell him this horrific news, he laughed. Laughed! People, this is not funny.

I thought I was eating well, too. I've got my oatmeal, yogurt, and oj in the morning. I've got my non-creamy soup and sandwich for lunch. When I want something to snack on, I eat freakin' chocolate calcium supplements or Cheerios! Ok, so maybe the yogurt isn't low fat and maybe I should trade some of those sandwiches for salads, and I sometimes hit the candy drawer at work, but still.

I probably should have taken up some prenatal exercise thing, too. Ah!

My biggest problem is being at home at night. Why are there chips and dip in the house? And who bought the cookies? And why are we following the chicken recipe off the back of the Campbell's soup can? Tonight, a ton of this so-called food is getting tossed in the trash. From now on, I eat nothing that is void of nutrients and high in fat and calories. And Nate, you aren't either. We must eat well as an f-ing family! We'll see who's laughing now, sucka.
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