I've come to the realization that even when I put down M- and D-, I'm still carrying our other stubbornly clingy toddler, Belly. I mean, 20 pounds roughly equals one toddler, right? So I'm going to start thinking of it that way, to provide myself with a tiny, weak, easily vanquished, and non-intimidating enemy.

Belly is a stubborn and demanding child, though he does keep me warm. Still, he's always known I hate him, so there's no point in pretending anymore that he's imagining my whispered snide remarks and double stink eyes anytime I feed or care for him alongside the other kids. He is most definitely my least favorite child, and in fact I consider his paternity highly in question.

I suppose you may find it disturbing, then, that after personifying this lil fella, I plan to ramp up my efforts to starve him and crush him into oblivion day by day. After months of walking even more [http://literaldan.blogspot.com/2008/02/steppin-to-ocd.html] than before, I feel like I can walk anywhere without tiring. Luckily our neighborhood has grocery stores, convenience stores, hardware stores, restaurants, and the library [http://literaldan.blogspot.com/2008/02/going-out-to-eat.html] all within a few blocks, so it's pretty easy to just walk everywhere.

Hundreds of pushups and crunchers have also helped rebalance my body composition, and they have left little Belly on the defensive, wondering what he ever did to deserve this treatment. Soon he'll be like one of those poor, emaciated, swollen little children on one of those charity commercials, but unfortunately for Belly, there will be no creepy bearded man gratingly badgering and guilting people into sending money to allegedly help him save the waif.

Little Belly will instead stand like Oliver Twist before the Master, pleading for more pizza and junk food, but he shan't receive a crumb beyond his allotment, and so shall I hang him for his insolence. I swear by the benevolent gods Mozzarella and Canadian Bacon, Bellicose J. Tumtum shall perish from this Earth by the close of a fortnight!

[Editor's note: Okay, more like several months, since I take a relaxed approach to most everything, and because I don't want to die, but I'm trying to really scare him here.]