Um, in an alternative universe, I also weigh 14lbs 9oz
My dear beloved friend MLQ pointed out this morning her initial confusion about why I would need help weighing myself. If only she were here and NOT miles away in Cairo, she might know the true answer to that question. But when she realized I was channeling Charlotte and NOT discussing my own battle with the scale, it certainly got me thinking about how happy I am even though I have never seen such disasterous digits haunting me from the seemingly harmless piece of glass that resides all to prominently in the bathroom of two previously vain weight-concious individuals. Not to say that we didn't pack Charlotte up in her new carrier so I could walk around the neighborhood bearing her newfound weight at 6 this morning, however, it is clear, in a way I would have ben lying about before, that though part of me yearns for the return of "The Other Bond Girl" most of me is posessed by the spirit of the bewitching little lady who discovers the world perched from my or her father's arms. Those arms may not be too happy about this year's sleeveless season, but alas, to have in exchange for some less than fab/fashionable months (not years I promise) this beam of hope and possibility for someone elses life, I am alright with what I weigh today in THIS universe.
