Monday, November 12, 2007

I have some cream to prevent, or fade, stretch marks. I read on the container that 90% of all women will get stretch marks at some point in their life. It left me wondering...Who the heck are the other 10%? Obviously, if I have the cream (which by the way doesn't work, Dr. Palmer Cocoa Butter), you may have gathered that I have the beloved scars.

I've been trying to make myself feel better about them lately. Colin said he can't even see them. That's because he's blind. Literally...without contacts or glasses he can't even see my face. Plus, he has to like me so he doesn't count.

It cracks me up when people say,"Yeah, but they fade." Ok, so in forty years I can bust out the bikini!

The only consolation that I have is that this is my last baby (Dear God: Did You hear that? Amen.) so no more stretch marks. Which is good because at this point I have what resembles a road map of downtown Chicago on my stomach and the only place they have to go would be my face and I KNOW Colin would notice that. And if my kids EVER say anything about my body, don't think I won't remind them of who made it that way.

What? You want to see a picture? You're so funny.

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