I am still 15 lbs. heavier than I want to be, even though my eating has been near immaculate, my exercise near Olympian. I accept what my body has done and what it can do. I just hate to see that whatsherface has yet to reclaim her derriere and replace my proportional one back where it belongs.

I don't have the energy to truly focus on a diet that will guarantee a slimmer Kendra by summer's end.

I don't have the bandwidth here to capacitate a more formal, abysmally boring discussion of diets in general.

What I do have is this:

Today I pointed to this picture that is in our hallway. Lovey Loverpants looks like a bouncer for a Mafia bar (but dead handsome, no?) and I look half-baked (my allergies were horrible that week!).

Who's that? I asked.

Baby Girl points to Loverpants, "Dis dis Daddy."

Baby Girl points to Mama, "Dis dis Mama Mine," and pulls her greedy hands to her chest on "mine."

I could die fat, but I would die happy.