Since second year high school, I've always been one of the tallest girls in class. Also always one of the slimmest, so you can imagine how I stand out even if I don't want to. My height I've always been uncomfortable about since, well, forever, but my weight I'm pretty okay with. I mean, I can eat a lot without gaining too much weight, who doesn't want that?
But as with all good things, my eating like a pig without consequence came to an end. You know how our metabolism slows down when we get older? Well, it's finally caught up with me. Last last week me and my sister Phoebe went out to buy ourselves a pair of jeans each. How silly of me to ask for my old size before I gave birth to my daughter. I thought I didn't expand an inch since then. LOL. Turns out, I am already three inches larger. Augh. So much for pretending to have a size 26 waist.
The low carb cereal that nobody in the house was paying attention to before is now eaten during breakfasts by yours truly. I cannot afford to grow an inch larger anymore. That would mean I would have to buy another pair of jeans again. Which is a crime, really.