How to Raise a Boy Right

So I've started doing this new thing. Related to the ever increasing size of my butt. And belly. And just about all my other body parts. I mean, seriously, even my boobs have gotten bigger, and that never happens.

I've slowly been making changes to how I eat and adding some gentle workouts a few days a week. You know, easing into the idea of maybe possibly getting serious about losing at least a few pounds.

Last month I forwarded an article to Monkey Man about finding the right motivation with a snarky remark about an expensive pair of shoes I've been coveting. He took me seriously. For he is not fluent in the "snark".

And it says volumes about how much I want those shoes that I immediately pulled out a Zumba DVD and suddenly started drinking green smoothies.

I would love to tell you I did some wicked cleanse (!) that gave me more energy than the coffee I gave up (!) and erased 10 pounds from my lower body (!) but none from my boobs (!) in three days!

But I'm not selling anything.

The truth is I still drink coffee, still want to take a nap every afternoon, and have only lost 1 pound/week. Which, in case you suck at math, is 4 pounds in  4 weeks. The scale has budged, but I'm not trading in my jeans for a smaller size just yet. 

So the other day my older son wraps his arms around me and says, "I can tell you're losing weight. You look slimmer."

So I say to all his future female friends, girlfriends, and wives: You're welcome.