Hell? Yeah, I've been there.

I, Sarah, attended my first session of burn your face off, seventh dimension of hell, 90 minute, hotter than hot yoga last night.  This session, and my recent purchase of a treadmill, mark the beginning of my quest to burn, run, sweat, and hopefully cut the baby weight right off my body.  I figure, Joey is no longer living in my body, so it shouldn't look like he is.  I remember looking at my mom (who went with me) during our 90 minute sweat session, with this sense of helplessness (and please save me because I am for sure dying) and admiring her for producing not one, but two children.  I NEVER want to go through this baby weight thing again, EVER, and I have a new found respect for those who do it more than once.

I don't know if I imagined that the 600 ice cream sandwiches, 26 thousand cheeseburgers and kazillion donuts would just melt off my body after Joey was born, or what.  But I was clearly smoking a bunch of drugs as I consumed all of those things without a single thought to what I would do with myself and the 60 pounds I put on during my pregnancy after he was born.  I was out of my mind crazy.  And now I am here with 20 pounds to lose to get back to "pre-pregnancy."  Ugh, barf. 

In a purely sadistic and douchey thought of "hahaha," as I was suffering through this yoga b.s., Rick was having a grand ole time with our teething child.  The text I received while I was in the alternate dimension read; "Get bread and creamer please, and a baby that isn't an asshole."  Rick and I were both suffering and, I think, appropriately so.