3 weeks postpartum, I'm not ashamed to say that no, no I do not have my body back. It's cool. I'm not in a hurry. I just made a human, so I'll give my body a little rest, a little bit of time and patience to come back to me.

But dude.

I'm in that awkward, horrible gray area.

All my maternity jeans are too big. I have to hike them up all day long, and I actually saw a picture of my butt in those jeans the other day and it was like dowdy mom saggy diaper ass.

All my non-maternity jeans are tight. I can actually button one lone pair but NO, the best part of this muffin is not the top. Plus I have to stay standing the whole time I'm wearing them. Maybe I just like dried them SUPER hot last time I wore them. Riiiiiiiiiiiight.

But I can sidestep the whole Sophie's Choice of muffin top or diaper booty. They're called yoga pants. Problem solved.

The worst part about this gray area is this: people keep asking me about the baby. In my belly.

"Do you know, is it a boy or a girl? It looks like a girl to me."
Boy. His name is Buster. He lives outside of me now. He breathes air and stuff. Because I'm not pregnant with him anymore.

"When are you due?"
3 weeks ago. Yep. Had him. Thanks.

"How far along?"
On this journey of life? Oh, we've only just begun, my friend.

Come on, man. It's not that it hurts my feelings. Seriously, I'm 3 weeks out and I'm not Beyonce, so I'm good with where I am.

But that shit harshes my mellow so bad.
(I don't actually say "harshes my mellow." I'm kind of trying it on. Not gonna lie, feels a little funky. But good funky or bad funky? I can't tell. Stand by...)

You know what harshes my mellow?
(Mmmmm... leaning toward bad funky. Leaning toward aging Dead head.)

Watching you get super fucking embarrassed when you realize how badly you just fucked up being a socialized human being. I don't want to deal with your embarrassment. I don't want to have to convince you "it's ok," or watch you turn pink and stutter and stammer and say something along the lines of, "Well, I wasn't sure... but you look great!" I don't want to have to spend the energy making a big show of not giving a shit about what you think of me or my post-baby gut, just so you don't feel bad about being a purple plumed ass hat.

Because legit, while I don't look not-pregnant, I don't look THAT pregnant. 4 months, tops. I'm comfortably within that is-she-or-isn't-she zone when you should NOT be initiating a conversation with a strange (possibly armed) woman about an unconfirmed pregnancy.

Here's a partial list of reasons a woman could look pregnant:

- she's standing weird
- she has a gourd-sized stomach tumor
- she ate a Denny's grand slam breakfast
- she's wearing an unflattering outfit
- she's bloated
- she just had a baby
- she just had a miscarriage or stillbirth
- she just got back from a cruise
- she's just shaped like that
- she's actually pregnant

So I guess I have to like, find the time to go buy a damn pair of jeans and some flowy Dead head tops. Maybe if I dress like the kind of person who thinks a mellow can be harshed, people will stop harshing my mellow.
(yeah it's bad funky. Don't like it. Over it.)