There’s something to be said for a good appetite…on someone else. Let’s face it, when it comes to a woman, it gets personal. And, no matter how ravenous a woman is, if you tell her she eats like a horse, you’re going to get your teeth kicked in.
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Last week a friend told me I wasn’t very funny when I was pregnant. Personally I challenge anyone to strap on a 30 pound watermelon, try to shave their right leg…oh, and then crack a smile. Look, it’s not about being funny. Looking funny, yes. Being funny, no.
Now that I am a mother of three, you would think there isn’t much I have not experienced in terms of my body. I will admit I have been relatively lucky on that front. Wait, let me knock on wood first. I never had hemorrhoids. I figure that is a good thing. I only have three stretch marks on my stomach, also a good thing. The stretch mark thing isn’t really anything to jump for joy about, since my stomach looks like canned biscuit dough when you first peel back that corner and it busts out of the tube. Bikinis are not in my future. Nursing two kids left me a lifetime member of the bullet club, so I hate to see what the third round is going to do.




